The four of them wandered through the glowing halls of the Sky Atrium until the scent of roasted meats and freshly baked bread drifted toward them. Their tired steps drew them into a restaurant perched by one of the glass walls, overlooking the endless skies below. Chandeliers of crystal feathers hung from the ceiling, scattering starlight across velvet booths and polished marble floors. The faint hum of strings and piano floated through the air, refined yet warm.
They were quickly guided by a pair of uniformed attendants to a table of carved ebony wood, its surface inlaid with silver threads forming constellations. They took their seats—Blanche sitting tall despite the faint pout still lingering on her lips, Yuxin dropping herself into the chair like she didn't care whether it was a throne or a bench, Vila perching with rigid posture, and Ruka hugging her bag close with that uncertain look in her eyes.
Moments later, a line of waiters approached in perfect synchrony. One carried the menus like sacred tomes, another a notepad and enchanted quill that shimmered faint blue, the quill's tip already poised to write.
The menus were opened and offered. The waiters bowed lightly, then stood in silence, awaiting their decisions.
Yuxin scanned her menu for all of two seconds before giving the waiter a flat glance.
"Something simple. Rice with grilled chicken. And milk. A big glass."
The quill scratched the words down as though carved by magic, the waiter giving a curt nod.
Vila leaned over her menu, staring with narrowed eyes. The elegant descriptions meant nothing to her, a forest elf who had spent centuries dining on herbs, roots, and venison roasted over fire. She tilted her head slightly toward Yuxin, then toward the menu, then finally pointed with quiet decisiveness to something that resembled what she'd once seen in the academy café.
"...This one. Looks familiar enough."
Her voice was calm, unreadable, though her eyes betrayed faint uncertainty. The quill scribbled again.
Ruka, meanwhile, fumbled with her menu, flipping back and forth, her lips moving silently as she tried to read every word. The prices nearly made her choke. She glanced toward Yuxin, then Vila, then back to the ornate lettering, her fingers curling nervously against the fabric of her uniform.
Blanche noticed. With the faintest smile, she reached over and, without hesitation, plucked the menu from Ruka's trembling hands. She tapped her finger firmly against a particular item, then closed the menu with elegance.
"She'll have the marbled beef platter with garden sides. And the sparkling tea infusion."
The quill wrote it down, not even pausing. Ruka's eyes widened, her mouth opening to protest, but Blanche silenced her with just a gentle wave of her hand and the serene composure of someone utterly certain she knew best.
Then came Blanche's turn. She lifted her chin ever so slightly, her silver hair catching the lamplight like strands of frost. Her finger traced down the menu until it landed on the most elaborate dish listed—an extravagant feast prepared with phoenix-fire seasoning and starlight herbs, garnished with rare fruits that only grew on floating isles.
She closed the menu with a delicate snap, handing it to the waiter without a trace of hesitation.
"I'll take the Grand Seraph Feast. And your most exquisite vintage wine to accompany it."
The waiters' brows barely flickered, but the smallest ripple of surprise passed among them. The quill's strokes gleamed brighter, as if acknowledging the weight of her order.
Yuxin side-eyed Blanche, her lips curving upward in faint sarcasm, her voice carrying that teasing bite that seemed aimed to pierce right through dignity.
"you'd pick the single most expensive thing on the list. Trying to prove something, your grace?"
Blanche did not so much as blink. She folded her hands neatly atop the table, her expression calm, serene, even pleased.
"Not proving. Simply indulging. Money is a river that flows endlessly—I see no reason to let it stagnate."
Yuxin snorted softly, muttering under her breath.
"...Unbelievable."
Ruka tugged Blanche's sleeve with wide, worried eyes.
"B-but… isn't that too much? I mean, I don't think I could ever…"
Blanche turned to her, the softest smile spreading across her lips, reassuring yet unshakable.
"You'll eat what I ordered for you, and you'll enjoy it. That is all that matters."
Ruka lowered her gaze, cheeks tinged pink, mumbling faintly.
"...O-okay."
The waiters, with their notes complete, bowed in unison before withdrawing. The menus vanished in their arms like they had never existed, the rustle of fabric and footsteps fading as they disappeared back into the kitchens.
The girls were left alone in the quiet glow of their booth, the air rich with the promise of delicacies soon to come. Blanche leaned back in her seat with poise, Yuxin tapped her fingers idly against the table, Vila rested her chin lightly against her hand, and Ruka nervously twisted the hem of her sleeve, the hush of anticipation descending like a soft veil between them.
The girls barely had time to get comfortable before another set of footsteps approached their table. A voice bright and theatrical cut through the soft hum of chatter around them.
"Well, well, well—what a radiant coincidence! Blanche, Vila, Ruka… and Yuxin too! Imagine meeting you all here."
Mika Aurenwave stood with a gleam in her ocean-blue hair catching the Sky Atrium's glasslight chandeliers. Her smile was a stage unto itself, broad and effortless, while beside her stood William Haldecrest—steady as ever, hands in his pockets, a polite curve at his lips as if he'd already expected this encounter.
Blanche straightened in her seat first, her noble manner sliding in like second nature.
"Mika. William. What a surprise. I didn't think we'd meet here of all places."
Yuxin didn't even bother to sit up straighter—she lazily lifted her hand in a half-wave, eyes heavy-lidded with that permanent air of disinterest.
"Yo."
Vila gave the smallest nod, almost perfunctory, while Ruka chimed in softly,
"Hi, Mika. Hi, William."
Mika clasped her hands together as though she'd been presented with an audience, then beamed wider, clearly pleased at the attention. William simply gave a polite incline of his head, that calm, easy smile on his lips.
Blanche tilted her head slightly, curiosity flickering in her pale eyes.
"What brings you to Sky Atrium?"
Mika gestured to the bags in her hands with a dramatic sweep.
"Shopping, of course! Darling, the boutiques here are irresistible. And William here—" she patted his shoulder with enough force to make him shift a step "—was kind enough to accompany me."
Yuxin arched a brow, mouth twitching into the faintest smirk.
"Wow, So basically, you two are on a date."
The words fell like a coin in water. Mika froze, blinked once, then burst into a laugh so vibrant it turned heads from the next table. She playfully swatted William's shoulder again—though her strength carried through, forcing him to roll his weight to keep balance.
"Did you hear that, William? Yuxin thinks we're on a date!"
William chuckled under his breath, rubbing the spot Mika had struck, though his calm didn't break.
"Could be worse things to assume."
Yuxin leaned back, watching the interaction with a faint glint of amusement in her eyes, though her tone stayed flat.
"Huh. Guess you two make a decent pair."
Mika, still brimming with her showy glow, leaned an elbow onto William's shoulder like he was the most reliable piece of furniture she could find. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she answered Yuxin's jab, laughter curling through her words.
"Oh, please. William's just a friend. A very loyal one, sure, but nothing more dramatic than that. He always comes along when I go shopping—like today. He's practically my favorite pack mule."
William gave a small laugh, more like a sigh with a smile painted across it. He spoke in that calm, even manner of his, voice steady like someone who rarely raised it for anything.
"It isn't only Mika. I've done the same for Rei plenty of times. Helping friends out, that's all."
Blanche, who had been listening intently with her fingers resting neatly against her chin, gave a quiet nod of approval. Her pale eyes softened, and the corners of her lips lifted into one of those rare, genuine smiles.
"That is admirable, William. Your reliability doesn't go unnoticed. It is a quality not many can uphold so consistently."
The words, spoken in that elegant timbre of hers, seemed to add weight to the moment. Mika, however, puffed up instantly as if Blanche had complimented her instead. She pointed her thumb toward William with dramatic pride, her voice rising like she was introducing a champion in an arena.
"Exactly! That's what I've been saying—William is the absolute best. Dependable, patient, strong enough to lug half a boutique's worth of clothes without complaining. Honestly, how on earth is he still single?"
William's expression twisted ever so slightly, not out of offense, but out of that self-deprecating humor he carried so quietly. He chuckled, lowering his gaze for a moment before returning it to the group with a small shrug.
"A question I ask myself more often than I'd like to admit."
There was something just faintly heavy beneath the humor, a hint of resignation hidden in his easygoing tone, like he had asked himself that question more times than he cared to admit. The table fell into a brief pause at his words—long enough for the weight to be felt but not long enough to turn awkward.
Mika suddenly slapped her palms against the table with that playful flourish of hers, the sudden noise making a couple of nearby diners glance over in irritation before going back to their meals. Her grin was as wide as ever, eyes shimmering with that cocky confidence she wore like perfume.
"Well, anyway! I didn't actually come here to sit down and bother you guys. Truth is, when I was walking around earlier I happened to glance through this restaurant's window and—boom—there you were. Thought I should pop in, confirm it with my own eyes, maybe say hi. That's all. So, now that I know it really is you four… I'll take my leave."
She rose in one quick motion, brushing invisible dust off her skirt, then spun on her heel with theatrical exaggeration. William stood too, calmer in movement but matching her exit naturally, as though he was accustomed to following Mika's unpredictable rhythm. Before stepping away, Mika turned back, flashing her trademark grin with that mix of nobility and mischief.
"Don't you dare get eliminated before we face each other again. I'd hate for all my training and ambition to go to waste if you drop out too early."
William, ever polite, lifted his hand in a small wave, his voice steady but carrying enough warmth to soften the competitive edge Mika left hanging in the air.
"Until the tournament. Do your best, and we'll see each other then."
At the table, only Blanche and Ruka raised their hands in response—Blanche with a graceful, restrained gesture and a small polite smile, and Ruka with a quick, almost awkward motion that carried more sincerity than confidence. Yuxin just watched in silence, her eyes following their backs with that unreadable, half-lidded stare of hers. Vila did not even bother to raise her hand, her gaze sliding away as though already dismissing the entire encounter.
With that, Mika strode out of the restaurant with her usual air of self-importance, William trailing a few steps behind. The bell above the restaurant door jingled faintly, and just like that the noise of conversation around them returned to its steady buzz.
The four of them settled back into their seats, the momentary interruption fading. Silence stretched for a little while, until the faint clatter of plates and the aroma of food drifting from the kitchen reminded them of what they were waiting for. Their hunger reasserted itself quietly, and together, they leaned back into the simple rhythm of waiting for their meals to arrive.
The wait was long enough that the clinking of cutlery and the faint, muffled laughter of other diners started to blur into background noise, but finally—finally—the waiters came, arms loaded with steaming trays of food. Plates were laid down one after another: Yuxin's simple meal with a tall glass of milk, Vila's familiar café-style dish, the carefully chosen plate Blanche had insisted Ruka try, and Blanche's own extravagant order, its presentation practically glowing compared to the others.
The scent filled the air between them, warm and rich. They didn't dive in like hungry wolves, though—no, exhaustion had settled too deep for that. They picked up their utensils slowly, savoring each bite at their own pace. For a while, the table was quiet save for the occasional clink of a fork or the soft hum of satisfaction from Ruka as she tasted something she clearly liked. Yuxin drank her milk steadily, almost rhythmically, as if she were focused on nothing but the cool sweetness in contrast to her usual flat expression. Blanche took her time with her lavish meal, posture upright even when she cut into her food, though now and then she glanced at her friends with a softer look than usual. Vila ate silently, every motion composed, her eyes half-lidded as if savoring the quiet more than the food itself.
By the time they were done, plates scraped clean and cups empty, the heaviness in their bodies wasn't just fatigue anymore—it was the weight of full stomachs. They rose together, Blanche smoothing her uniform as if she had to erase any sign of the indulgence, Yuxin stretching her arms with a small sigh, Ruka patting her stomach absentmindedly, and Vila brushing a strand of hair behind her ear before falling back into step.
The afternoon light outside the restaurant was bright, the floating glass and stone structures of Sky Atrium glimmering as if deliberately showing off their wealth. The four of them drifted into the crowd, walking side by side until Ruka's voice, soft but questioning, slipped into the air.
"So… where do we even go next?"
Yuxin tilted her head slightly, her brow furrowing as she muttered almost to herself.
"I don't know. Feels like we've already done the eating part, so… what else is left?"
For a moment it looked like the idea might die right there, until Blanche stopped in her tracks, eyes catching on a storefront across the street. Elegant mannequins dressed in finely cut gowns and uniforms stood proudly behind glass, and the shimmering sign above the doorway gleamed like polished silver. She turned back toward the group with a spark of eagerness that was rare to see on her usually composed face.
"How about the boutique? A clothing store. We could go inside—maybe… do some shopping together. Just once. It would be fun with friends."
Yuxin blinked at her, the corner of her mouth twitching as she raised one eyebrow.
"Wait. You mean all this build-up was just… for clothes? That's your big idea?"
Blanche nodded, her cheeks coloring faintly though her voice tried to hold its steady noble tone.
"Yes. Just clothes. It's not strange, is it? I thought—well, I thought it might be nice. I never get to do this sort of thing with anyone else. Not really."
Yuxin stared for a second longer, lips parting as though she had more sarcasm lined up, but instead she exhaled through her nose, turned her head away, and muttered almost reluctantly.
"No, it's not weird. Just… caught me off guard, that's all."
Blanche's eyes softened at that, her faint blush still lingering, and for a moment the tension broke—the noble, the elf, the quiet girl, and the shadow-user drifting toward the boutique together, their footsteps light against the glowing tiles of the Sky Atrium.
The boutique's doors opened with a soft chime that sang like crystal, and immediately a pair of attendants bowed with perfect grace, their smiles polished but not intrusive, voices carrying the kind of professional warmth reserved for noble clientele. The air inside was heavy with the faint fragrance of lavender and some expensive blend of oils that clung to velvet curtains and golden racks filled with dresses, coats, and outfits that glowed under carefully placed lights.
The four of them stepped inside together, but it didn't take long for the group to scatter among the aisles. Blanche's eyes lit up the second they passed the first row of gowns—like a spark of genuine excitement broke through her stoic composure. Ruka trailed behind, arms folded and eyes darting curiously but with no real clue what to look for. Yuxin slipped between mannequins lazily, fingers brushing fabric here and there without any real interest. And Vila—well, Vila stood stiff as a tree in the middle of the boutique, her gaze blank, shoulders square, expression unchanging as though she had no idea what the point of all this was.
Blanche reappeared suddenly, cradling a dress in her arms as if she had just discovered treasure. Her steps were quick, her face glowing with an almost childlike thrill. She stopped in front of Vila and held the garment up against her, tilting her head to measure the fit with her eyes.
"Vila, you have to try this. Just once. Humor me."
Vila blinked, looking down at the outfit, then back at Blanche. She didn't protest, didn't say yes either—she just stared for a moment, then gave a small shrug and allowed Blanche to press the clothes into her arms.
The attendants guided her to a fitting room, and when Vila stepped out minutes later, the boutique seemed to pause for a heartbeat. The outfit was simple, a casual cut meant for leisure, but on Vila it softened her sharp, stoic aura in a way that felt almost surreal. Her pale features framed by the casual wear gave her a completely different presence—less the last elf of a fallen forest, more… an ordinary girl.
Yuxin leaned against a wall, arms crossed, her mouth curving into a slow, wicked grin.
"Well, well. Look at that. Turns out Blanche's idea wasn't terrible after all. Not bad at all, Vila. Not bad."
Blanche beamed, cheeks faintly flushed from pride, while Vila just stood there like a statue, expression flat, gaze forward, as if none of this mattered to her. Still, she didn't move away when Blanche circled her like an artist admiring her work.
But Yuxin wasn't satisfied. The shadow user plucked a different outfit from a nearby rack—something sharper, with edges of bold design, slightly more modern than the casual cut Blanche had chosen. Without warning, she shoved it into Vila's hands.
"Your turn again. Humor me this time."
Vila vanished back into the fitting room, and when she emerged again, the change was striking. The new outfit added lines to her figure, gave her a cool, commanding presence. She didn't look approachable anymore—she looked untouchable. Powerful. Almost intimidating in her stillness.
Yuxin's grin widened, a low chuckle slipping from her lips.
"There it is. Now that's the kind of look I'm talking about. Cold, sharp, dangerous. Perfect. You're basically a walking warning sign."
Blanche clapped her hands together softly, though her eyes were still glowing with delight.
"Yuxin, don't tease her. She looks wonderful."
And so it went on. Outfit after outfit was pulled from the racks and draped across Vila's shoulders, shoved into her arms by either Blanche or Yuxin. She didn't resist, didn't complain—she just changed quietly, stepping out again and again in new styles, each one transforming her into someone else. A gentle maiden in soft pastels. A noblewoman in deep velvet. A warrior with tight, sleek lines of fabric. A scholar in minimalist attire.
And through it all, Vila's face never changed, her eyes calm, her lips neutral, her posture steady as if she had been turned into a doll for Blanche and Yuxin to play dress-up with. When one of them asked her to pose, she did so without hesitation—hand on hip, chin lifted, shoulders squared—each stance carried out with mechanical precision, her blank expression somehow making it all the more striking.
The attendants whispered among themselves, marveling at how naturally she seemed to embody each outfit despite her utter lack of interest. Blanche sparkled with joy each time, Yuxin smirked and teased relentlessly, and Ruka sat in the corner giggling softly, hugging her knees to her chest as she watched the spectacle unfold.
For once, the boutique was alive not with its usual refined quiet but with the rare laughter of noble and commoner alike, echoing off its golden walls as one elf stood at the center, unknowingly turning into the canvas for all their fun.
Blanche's laughter rang out first, bright and bubbling in a way that she almost never let escape in public, and Yuxin's smirk curved into a sharper grin, her shoulders shaking with amusement. They exchanged a mischievous glance that said the same thing without needing words: Vila was fun, yes, but they weren't done yet. Their eyes shifted almost in unison toward the smallest one in their flock.
Ruka, sitting innocently at the edge of a couch with her knees drawn close, felt the weight of their gazes settle over her. She stiffened, blinking her wide greenish eyes like a startled rabbit sensing wolves circling. Her lips parted, but no words came.
"Perfect," Yuxin murmured, already plucking something ridiculous from the nearest rack. "Our next victim."
Blanche's cheeks colored with the thrill of the game, her noble composure dissolving into playful cruelty as she followed Yuxin's lead.
Ruka's head shook quickly, strands of dark green hair swishing across her face.
"W–wait… wait, me? No, no, I'm fine just watching! Vila looks way better than I ever could—"
But it was too late. Yuxin shoved the bundle of frilly fabric into her arms, smirking as though she'd already won the battle.
"Try it. Just once. Don't worry, it won't hurt. Much."
Ruka's protest died in her throat, her gaze darting helplessly to Vila for rescue. But Vila only stood there, expression unreadable, arms crossed as she silently observed the chaos unraveling. If she disapproved, she didn't show it. If she wanted to help, she certainly didn't move.
Ruka sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat, and allowed herself to be herded into the fitting room. Minutes later, the curtain slid back, and there she was—swallowed up by a pastel confection of lace and ribbons, the kind of miniature princess outfit meant for a dollhouse playroom.
The sight hit Yuxin like a blade of pure comedy. She doubled over against the wall, one hand clutching her stomach, the other pointing mercilessly at Ruka.
"Oh gods—look at you! You're eight. Eight years old. Ruka, I swear you just regressed an entire decade!"
Her laughter was raw and unrestrained, echoing through the boutique.
Blanche, though more refined, pressed her hand to her lips, trying and failing to smother her delight. Her shoulders trembled, her eyes gleamed, and a soft, girlish laugh broke free despite herself.
"Oh, Ruka… you're—adorable. Absolutely precious. I can't—"
Ruka's face burned crimson, her fingers curling into fists at her sides as she shuffled awkwardly under their relentless gazes.
"I… I don't… it's not—stop laughing!"
But there was no escape. Blanche swept off again, her skirts brushing the polished floor, and returned with yet another ensemble. This time, it was something uncanny: a porcelain-doll inspired dress, stiff with satin, layered with ribbons, complete with a bonnet that Blanche all but forced onto Ruka's head.
When she emerged again, her small frame encased in doll-like finery, the transformation was startling. She didn't look like herself anymore. She looked like a life-sized doll, her expression frozen somewhere between misery and reluctant compliance.
Yuxin let out a sharp, wheezing breath, her eyes watering from laughing too hard.
"Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Somebody put her on a shelf already—no, better, in a glass case."
Blanche clapped her hands together in delight, her cheeks glowing pink.
"You're stunning, Ruka. Like a porcelain doll come to life. Oh, if only the rest of the academy could see you right now."
"Don't say that!" Ruka whined, stamping her foot lightly, the motion only making her look even more like a child throwing a tantrum.
The boutique attendants tried to stifle their chuckles behind polite smiles, clearly entertained by the noble lady and her friends treating the shop like their personal theater.
And through it all, Vila watched from behind them, her back straight, her expression unmoving, her amber eyes unblinking. She didn't laugh. She didn't comment. She simply observed Blanche and Yuxin, their strange bursts of energy, their playful torment of their smaller companion. The slightest shift of her lips hinted at something—maybe disapproval, maybe amusement—but whatever it was, it never made its way to the surface.
In the golden light of the boutique, the scene looked absurdly mismatched: two predators laughing, one doll-child flailing, and one silent elf specter looming in the back.
The golden glow of the Sky Atrium spilled across the polished marble floor as the four of them finally emerged from the boutique, the heavy doors closing behind them with a soft thunk. Blanche and Yuxin walked in front, steps light, shoulders loose, both looking entirely too pleased with themselves. Their hands carried several elegant bags embossed with silver crests from the boutique, swinging casually at their sides like trophies of mischief. Every now and then Yuxin would glance sideways at Blanche, a sly grin tugging at her lips, as though they both shared the same unspoken victory over their little fashion experiment.
Behind them, however, the mood was strikingly different. Ruka trudged forward with her arms crossed tight against her chest, her brows furrowed and cheeks puffed in an indignant pout. She still hadn't recovered from the endless humiliation inside the shop, her mind replaying Yuxin's cruel laughter and Blanche's over-enthusiastic clapping every time she closed her eyes. Her soft grumbling slipped out under her breath, almost like a chant.
"Unbelievable… absolutely cruel… dressing me like a porcelain doll… what were they even thinking…?"
Vila walked beside her, tall, serene, her long stride carrying her easily at Ruka's side. She held no shopping bags, no trace of frustration, her expression as unreadable as ever. Her gaze stayed forward, amber eyes following the flow of people crossing the grand plaza.
Ruka shot her an exasperated glance, greenish hair bouncing as she leaned closer, her voice low and grumpy.
"You should be mad too, Vila! They made you change outfits over and over before they went after me. You were just as much their plaything as I was."
Vila blinked once, the slow deliberate motion of someone whose thoughts remained far beneath the surface. She tilted her head slightly toward Ruka, her lips parting in that calm, quiet way of hers.
"Mm. Yes."
That was it. No frown. No sign of irritation. No spark of indignation that Ruka so desperately wanted her to show.
Ruka groaned, stomping her foot lightly against the glossy floor as they walked.
"Don't just agree! You're supposed to be angry about it. At least a little! They were awful!"
Vila's expression didn't change, her voice steady as a still pond.
"Yes. Awful."
Ruka's eyes widened at the flatness, her jaw tightening in frustration. She turned her whole body slightly toward Vila as though trying to force some kind of reaction out of her.
"You don't mean that at all! You don't even sound upset!"
Vila's gaze finally shifted, just a fraction, down toward the smaller girl beside her. For the briefest moment, something that might have been the ghost of amusement flickered in her eyes. But her tone remained calm, almost detached.
"Why should I be upset? Clothes are just… clothes."
Ruka gasped in disbelief, her voice rising an octave.
"Because—because they laughed at you! At us! They treated us like dolls!"
Vila shrugged one shoulder faintly, the motion smooth and unconcerned, her gaze drifting forward again.
"Then let them laugh."
That was the final straw. Ruka's pout deepened, her face turning bright red as she turned away with a huff, arms tightening even further around herself. She muttered through gritted teeth, though loud enough that Vila could hear.
"Unbelievable… you're impossible… like talking to a brick wall…"
Vila, unfazed, continued to walk beside her in silence, the faintest calm aura trailing around her like the hush of a forest.
Up ahead, Yuxin and Blanche glanced back at the two of them. Yuxin's sharp eyes caught the puffed cheeks and stormy glare aimed at Vila, and her lips curved into a sly, knowing grin. Blanche, meanwhile, slowed her steps slightly, her noble poise slipping into a softer expression. She seemed amused, but not mocking—more like fond curiosity at watching her friends' dynamic unfold.
Together, the four of them strolled through the bustling heart of the Sky Atrium, carrying both laughter and irritation in their wake, their little drama swallowed up by the towering spires of glass and the shimmer of floating lanterns overhead.