Despite the fact the vast majority of dreams are never even slightly remembered by the dreamer once they've awoken, there's always a chance an especially vivid dream may pierce the border between the subconscious fantasy and conscious reality. Even then, those rare instances fade quickly after awakening; in seconds, crucial people and events fade away, and in a minute the entire dream may crumble into unknowings. Attempting to cling onto the decaying fragments of those dreams can be a great struggle regardless of how clear it was just seconds ago. Faces and bodies lose shape, names blend and blur, and eventually enough mental reconstruction will overwrite those dwindling recollections with manufactured patches. Those details wash away quickly, yet the emotions of the dream itself strangely linger greater, a sense of significance even without an image to tag.
A black silhouette hardly humanoid for its limbs and shoulders are unnaturally broad, its skin jagged like stone, forming spikes at the top of the head like a crown, a silhouette without a name, a silhouette without color, yet a silhouette with an innate grave significance. Attached to its presence was a voice, or rather a collection of voices, a sea of voices so broad none were individually parsable. No distinct words were recalled, only the screeching sound of what best resembles screams and shrieks, though it's quiet, muted, almost drowned.
Something about that figure was important, that was perhaps the only property of this dream that persisted. The justifications to that tag were lost, the context that the figure was a part of and how it imposed its own significance were lost, only that it was of significance. In fact, it was undeniably the most important figure at the present, or at least the feelings of the dream demanded so. It should be important at least, whatever that figure is, whatever those voices are, it should matter.
But trying to concentrate on those voices only further drowns it, trying to focus on the silhouette only bleeds its shadow into an unrecognizable mist.
That black mist blends in with the thicker gray clouds that faint crimson luminescence peers through. In the center of vision where that silhouette once loomed is a different figure, one also difficult to perceive detail, as it was coated in a bright pink light that drags a trail like a tracer ray. Furthermore, the figure is not upright but flat, their body aligned aerodynamically as they soar through the clouds. The viewer does too, judging by the clouds racing past them, the roaring winds of flight nearly overpowering the hum of the propulsive force driving the viewer forward. The position of the figure ahead, while concealing them more, does at least allow for more of the surrounding environment to be observed, which is at first just more of the same thick clouds.
Moments later that changes as the figure and pursuing viewer pass through another thick cloud, leading not to the sight of more but rather a vast overhead perspective of an urban landscape dominated by a dense network of box-shaped buildings colored scarlet and white. They aren't particularly tall, at least nowhere near skyscrapers as they remain close to the ground, the uneven terrain being the primary cause for some towering above others. That is because the entire city seen ahead is built on a hill, one with a progressive incline on the far edges where among those box buildings stand towers with cone tops. The incline dramatically slopes closer to the center where only a single building stands atop, one that alone isn't too tall but covers the entire hilltop with a perimeter composed of structures with crimson roofs, all but for a central area where a single distinct building stands.
Observing the distant structure through sharp azure irises which radiate light from an imprinted star shape, the man following the pink ray examines the city below as his black wavy hair dances wildly in the winds, as does his samely colored cape which has a texture alike chainmail yet with the smoothness of silk. Glowing too are the frosty crystals in the shape of obelisks on his metallic golden shoulders printed onto his azure suit brightened by the network of azure streaks coursing through his body, originating from the central tilted obelisk on his chest representing a pencil. A far more prominent source of that light is the trail of light emitting from that suit, like a comet's tail that propels him forward, just beside the pink trail he maintains a close following to.
He frowns as the remnants of that ominous figure remain in his mind, a sense of trouble haunting him without reason. Yet those foreboding thoughts subside upon noticing the pink ray he's following begin to depress, and following its trajectory he notes it aiming for the structure at the top of the hill. He shakes his head away from those irrelevant concerns and depresses his own flight to follow the same path, diving down towards the surface.
On the opposite altitude from the hilltop, the edge of the hill where the true city's ground are, hordes of Japanese civilians flooding the once empty streets, exiting the city buildings they had hidden into during the invasion. Dressed in coats and dresses, they murmur amongst themselves, parents holding their children's hands and others calling out names of those they lost track of in the chaos. Other adults –whether younger or simply on their own– just try their best to slip between the crowd, apologizing for crossing between families, moving with urgency such that they bump shoulders repeatedly. Some even bump into children to whom they apologize profusely, which are taken well by shaken parents choosing to remain peaceful.
Stationed beside the streets, scattered and crowded are large metallic contraptions nearly resembling an automobile, although with significantly smaller wheels that hang beneath the body by rods, more akin to a plane's landing gear as the lower body smooths flat like a jet ski. Their bodies aren't the shiniest and their colors are all shades of gray, varied in spectrum but all monochrome. They have generally box-like shapes rather than a sportier design, granted their hulls are curved, protruding as bumpers around the lip, leaving cutouts for the glassy windows on the sides, back, and front windshield. Many of these vehicles are approached by the citizens sprawling back onto the street, some of them reaching where the front door would be before tugging on it, causing the door to swing open like any classic automobile.
It doesn't take long for the asphalt streets to become busy once again with populus, if anything it seems far more hectic with the unbalanced influx trying to sort themselves out and return to their schedules, many of them hurrying quickly with destinations to make almost casually after what could've been a catastrophic incident. As they resume their day, a few of them glance towards the hill, which from the ground towers more like a mountain.
Without question it's the tallest structure in sight, so grand it practically pulls the city itself from the ground, like a gravitational well warping space around itself. The towers stationed along the hill themselves aren't anywhere like skyscrapers in height, yet they still tower over the citizens given their elevated positions, for those citizens only reside by the base. At the very top of the hill alone stands the structure, itself not very tall as many of the city's buildings are actually taller than it technically, but of course it stands above all of them without competition.
However, what does appear above even that is the pink ray that bursts from the gray clouds among the red skies, which a few citizens murmur in comments about, acknowledging the bright descending star but not being all too surprised.
Yet when the blue comet follows not a full second after, many civilians do stop to take note, more of them pointing towards that comet and murmuring in tones more astonished and perplexed, for it's a sight they aren't accustomed to. In a crowd as dense, their words jumble into the sea, and many of them are prompted to resume their pace upon being bumped by other civilians trying to go about their business. Many civilians who noticed the blue comet, whether catching sight of it themselves or being directed to it by others, can't help but keep their eyes on the pair of descending rays while moving along in the traffic, fascinated by the anomaly but needing to keep pace, for a pebble cannot stand still in a running river.
Those two rays continue down towards the structure atop the hill, silent from afar, like shooting stars during daylight, streaks blue and pink across the red sky.
It is true that there are buildings on the hill itself, designed similarly to the other box-shaped city structures with the same white wood material, albeit only a few stories tall, more resembling houses and small offices. They only populate the portion of the hill that's at a subtle incline, where it may be clear that the buildings are on a foundation not leveled with the ground but close enough that it's reasonable to walk those streets.
Higher up however, the incline's steeper, too steep for walkable roads and so there's a notable lack of such buildings, for only towers stand spread around the funnel. They're connected not with roads laid over the ground –for they'd be at sharp angles if they were– but stone paths and staircases built along the hill, perfectly straight. The paths aren't as wide as the streets, but they don't need to be as there's far fewer people walking them. Those who do are all adults dressed in the same wine red uniforms as the men on the docks, with formal postures, walking not in casual strolls but strict marches.
Many of these walkways spiral around the hill, branching into separate paths split by staircases leading to towers of different elevations, as there's no single bridge that forms a complete ring around the hill. The staircases branching off these walkways are also short, designed mostly to connect paths together, most of them individually not too long, only about ten steps on average.
There is a single exception however: a staircase drastically wider –about a street's width– beginning from the base of the hill and leading directly to the top. Walls run along the path, with openings only to lead to branching walkways many of which diverge from the supreme staircase, and along it too are several pairs of towers like pillars to a long temple.
That staircase, which just from a glance would be a tremendous hike to climb, leads to the flat peak upon which the single structure stands, one with a tall wall that encompasses the entire perimeter of the hilltop's edge, the bottom half dark red and the upper half white. The buildings that compose this campus differ in height, with a few taller towers standing at the corners, and between them are shorter structures that function almost like connective hallways that lead into wider office spaces.
The pink ray approaches the top of the supreme staircases, aiming right outside of the wall at full speed, and following behind is the blue comet though with a notable deceleration.
Past the top stair is a small platform made of the same dark salmon stone as the stairs and accompanying walls, which the pink ray strikes at full speed, or rather it seems to but remarkably makes no impact, not a crater nor even a cloud of dust. In reality, the head of the ray doesn't make contact with the platform, as the head remains suspended about a foot above it in levitation: the woman in the black and rose gold kimono with silky long pink hair. No longer in flight, her body's pronounced without such a substantial glow from her trail, however she remains lit by a gentle outline of pink luminescence around her body.
A moment later follows the blue comet, which slows down considerably before landing right a few feet from the woman, the light encasing the head fizzling away to reveal the man in the blue suit, his wavy black hair like his cape as he brakes just a foot off the ground, letting himself softly drop with no visible impact.
Tapping the stone floor with his black boots, the man's focus locks immediately onto the barrier blocking him from entering the campus, for at the end of the stair's platform, carved into the perimeter wall –about twenty five feet tall– is a pair of gate doors as tall as the wall itself, separate from the rest of the perimeter as it has its own hanging roof. The gates stand between extrusions in the wall towards the staircase, forming an enclosure of sorts around the two. Beside the gate doors on the walls of each side are four bolted devices resembling deadbolts, and extruding from them are long metal bars functioning as such locks, long enough to cover the full gate. The bars have sharpened tips, resembling the blades of a katana, and protecting each pair of locks is a strange bubble glowing salmon red, a concentrated field of plasmic energy like a force field. The bubble protects the physical mechanisms locking the gates, and above it is a metallic plate featuring an insignia in the shape of an eye, with the iconography of a katana piercing through a stretched red circle, like a bubble being stabbed through.
Hanging over the gates are the crimson roofs featuring a kawara design, looming over the two. The man stands, feet placed on the ground physically, whereas the woman beside him levitates freely, both of them matching to the same height.
After raising his head up and lowering it back down to examine the towering gates, Meditat turns to Kokei and opens his mouth to question, judging by his perplexed expression, though he's interrupted by the sound of electric hums and whooshes from ahead of him, prompting his starry eyes to face forth with intrigue as Kokei's calm pink eyes already remain forward in expectation.
From the top to the bottom, each of the four rows of deadlocks deactivate their bubble shields, one by one, each deactivation announced with the whoosh that sounds akin to a generator being disabled, as if the bubbles themselves take considerable power to operate.
After the bottom row's shields deactivate, the two blade-shaped bolts crossing over the gates from the top locks begin slowly retracting into the locking devices bolted to the wall, not seeming to fold or collapse into itself while out but otherwise somehow fitting in the visibly smaller compartments. The movements of the bolts are steady, heavy given the weighty sound of the recessions as though the mechanisms pulling back the bolts struggle to do so. As those top bolts recede past the center of the gate, the next two bolts begin to reel backwards. As the top two bolts slip entirely into the compartments that once emitted the shields, the third pair begin to open.
Watching in anticipation, Meditat takes a step back, though upon noticing Kokei's lack of hesitation, he reclaims that step forward. He keeps his gaze on the door, watching the fourth pair of locks begin to recede, steadily and slowly unlocking the gates.
After the retraction of the final pair of bolts, the gate in front of the two then slowly begins to swing backwards, the metal doors showing their weight by the sounds of the mechanisms fighting to to swivel the borders, chugging even. A thin slit of light pierces between the doors, one that widens as the gates swing further out.
His eyes initially sharpened apprehensively, Meditat's gaze widens in curiosity as he takes one step forward past Kokei, to which Kokei subtly carries herself forward to stay by his side, preventing him from leading on his own.
Past the door behind which the ground was stone, Meditat can note the ground to have a gravel path, and raising his head up he catches a glimpse of another building straight ahead, one with the same signature roofing style. The roof was far taller than the others too, being about as tall as the walls themselves, as the white walls only seemed to give the building two stories but the roof adds three, potentially more.
His eyes remain locked on that structure as it's the only one prominently featured within the perimeter, otherwise surrounded by gardens of trees with predominately red and blue leaves, gravel paths leading through each of them. While the perimeter itself is a grand collection of buildings, they all surround this one in particular, this one clearly holding significance.
But as the door continues to open past halfway, his view of the building is obstructed by four lines of men dressed in red wine uniforms, their coats buttoned up, their caps firmly placed on their heads. Four stand in a row, but behind each is an additional five, a grand total of twenty just to greet them, a surprisingly large group to be summoned so immediately.
They hold sharp, daggerish glares aimed straight at Meditat, whose innocently curious expression defensively sharpens too, taking a step back to allow Kokei in front. She sighs and carries herself forward, muttering casually: "I knew she'd do this; if I tried taking you the short way, she'd probably try shooting you down."
Keeping his arms at his side formally, the man standing on the right center of the row sternly states, "The empress did not receive any alert that you'd be bringing guests, Saikyo-sama."
Medtat's head tilts in perplexity with a raised eyebrow as Kokei huffs and crosses her arms in front of her chest before asserting in an impatient tone, "I just saved the country your life is supposed to protect, again, I don't do that by bouncing forms and messages around all day. He'll be my alert and I'll deliver him to her in person myself."
That lecturing guard chuffs and shakes his head, an older man seeming to be in his sixties whereas most of the guards are in their twenties and early thirties. Still clearly upset, he reprimands in the same stern tone, "You know the mountain of trust the empress had to offer for you to enter and exit the palace as loosely as you please. You are stretching that trust more than she likes, this was never part of the agreement."
Carrying herself forth another step until she's just a foot away from the guard, her arms still crossed, Kokei glares directly down as the guard in actuality is slightly shorter than Meditat. Staring down at him, she asserts with that impatience approaching its boiling point, "Then I'll ask if I hurt her feelings, I'd prefer her to communicate that herself like a respectable person. Unfortunately you seem to be in the way of doing that, and unfortunately you seem to be wasting my time from doing that. Did the empress tell you that she likes when you stall me from her?"
Upon that last confronting question, the older guard chuffs again, but he bows his head down in shame. He then softly apologizes, "My apologies Saikyo-sama, me and my men will part for you and your guest whom we trust in yours."
He then turns to the guard on his left who follows his gaze, and upon nodding, that officer begins to motion to the left, prompting the guard to his left to also motion to the side. The older officer steps to the right, and the walls of guards begin splitting like the sea, row by row, revealing the gravel path to the building at the center of the hill. No longer visually obstructed, the two shut doors can be seen straight ahead, made of a dark, rich crimson wood. Standing beside the door are two more guards, waiting patiently in sharp postures, arms at the side. It's the same posture as the welcoming officers who form two long interlacing lines, and they turn to face the other, functioning as walls of a corridor, including the initially argumentative guard who's blended into the crowd.
Centering her gaze at those closed doors, Kokei begins her approach, her feet dangling over the gravel path as her steps are made in the soft hum of her levitation. Following beside her albeit just slightly behind, allowing her to lead, is Meditat who glances at the guards in formation curiously, stunned by how formally they fell into place by her command. His steps, grounded, do leave the sound of gravel being crunched under his boots.
To keep pace with Kokei, Meditat cannot leisurely stroll but has to walk with some haste, a hurried march to chase after the woman who so effortlessly moves forth, not needing to lift a leg. Glancing at the other wall of guards, Meditat observes their stoic faces, like statues without expression, firm as soldiers. It's not long before they pass the last guards, continuing on the path towards the central building, yet those guards remain stationed as walls.
Now turning to Kokei, Meditat tilts his head before quietly questioning, "'Saikyo'...is that your last name?"
Maintaining her pace and gaze ahead, Kokei answers with a confused, slightly offended tone, "You…just happened to forget? I thought you were a huge fan of mine, I'm a little disappointed in your gaps of knowledge. I guess that explains why you refer to me so casually, you're lucky I'm not in the mood to fight over that."
Awkwardly smiling from his slight mischaracterization, albeit recognizing it's one he'd need to maintain at least for the time being, Meditat sighs before apologizing, "I…apologize. Never mind, I must be exhausted. It's an…interesting last name."
Kokei huffs to that ambiguous comment, simply stating, "I expect you meant that only in the best intentions," to which Meditat swiftly assures, "Excuse my wording, of course," before he frowns to himself in thought, as if struggling to make sense of this fact, as though it conflicted with another truth he was better accustomed to. Kokei dismissively sighs, concluding their exchange as Meditat's eyes dart to the floor in contemplation, his eyebrows scrunching as further introspection only leads to more internal befuddlement. He subtly shakes his head to himself and slightly parts his lips to whisper under his breath, though before he can Kokei then halts, and Meditat's quick to raise his head and do the same, albeit stopping an extra step forward, planting him right beside her.
Just a few feet ahead of both of them are the two guards standing in front of the closed doors. Without either of them lifting a finger, a creak triggers both of the doors to slowly begin swinging open, pulling towards their direction as if an unseen force is pushing the doors from the other side. The guards march to their respective sides of the doors to avoid contact, therefore removing themselves as barriers, as just to enter this building had so many layers of security.
Alas as the officers stop beside the entrance, the doors pass halfway swung, ultimately revealing the interior to Kokei and Meditat. That interior is spacious to a nearly empty extent, for the opening doors lead to a single huge room with dark red floors with a marble-like material. Along the wooden walls are windows covered by white blinds albeit able to pass in light, all of the walls visible as there's hardly any furniture in the room to obstruct the view. Dangling from the ceiling towards the center back is a single golden chandelier, thus the corners aren't perfectly lit, and protecting those corners are stationed guards.
In fact, there are many of them stationed in the room, almost all of them by the walls, leaving the floor as clear as can be. That is for the exception of two guards who stand before an elevated red-carpeted stage in the center back of the room, and hanging over is a canopy of red and black curtains, a golden ring along the top holding them together. Extruded from the ring are intricate sculptures of waves, more resembling solar flares, providing the ring with a shape representing a crown with additional ornaments of raised disks. Extruded from the front of the ring facing the door is a sculpture of the same insignia outside the front gates: a katana plunged through a stretched circle.
The chandelier hangs above that canopy, illuminating what's underneath to be a majestic throne chair with a golden frame and dark red cushions; seated on that throne is a Japanese girl, perhaps in her early teenage years but not much further, with silky long black hair and sharp purple irises. She's dressed in a uniform similar to the guards in color, though with golden pauldrons linked by a golden chain, and another chain hangs on her right shoulder. The uniform sports a red shoulder sash with small golden medals hanging off. A salmon fabric belt is wrapped around her waist, the same color as pads embedded onto the forearms in a curvy design resembling flares. Different from the guards, this uniform features an integrated skirt, below which she wears dark red leggings, and beneath that she sports tall, black boots.
Despite being vastly younger than all the guards in the room, she sits with a commanding presence, glaring straight at the two between the doors that swing all the way open.
Staring back at that seated child with bewilderment to the strange choice of a being seemingly in some extent of authority, Meditat just stands in place whereas Kokei drifts forth into the interior of what's best described to be a palace. She waves her hand and greets in a fairly casual tone, "Hey Michi, you're welcome for stopping the invasion, thanks for not sending-."
Before Kokei could finish expressing her gratitude, the young girl interrupts her with a voice naturally youthful, yet in place of innocence is a harsh agitation, her voice sharp and aggressive as she demands, "Who is he? I do not recognize him, I do not recognize granting him access to my presence."
After the judgement passed from the other guards, Meditat clearly wasn't all too stunned to find himself being called out, but the directness even to the interruption of the greeting still threw him off guard as he awkwardly smiles in a desperate attempt for first impressions. Before he could speak for himself, Kokei –who drifts forward again a few feet– gestures her hand back towards him in a motion to tug his wrist, which is beyond reach physically for her but that's when Meditat's hand suddenly illuminates with a pink outline before it's then yanked forward, prompting Meditat to stumble as though physically tugged with shock as she waves with her other hand and answers, "He's my fall guy to explain why I don't have the man I would've preferred bringing to you. He's completely harmless."
After regaining his footing, Meditat sighs upon the recognition that his voice would be channeled through Kokei's, frowning at his own incapability of explaining himself, but the heavy atmosphere at the same time makes clear to him that he'd be best treading cautiously. His face sharpens upon beginning to examine the room around him a second time with keener eyes, especially being thrusted into a room where he's being glared down on by who very well may be the most important person on the continent he's found himself in.
Once again investigating the room from his stationary position, Meditat's eyes train on the guards spread around the room, who all are already staring back at him, though strangely there aren't that many when accounting for the significance of the life they're protecting. What's even stranger is that by focusing on the individual officers, none of them are outright armed as their hands are free, and there aren't any visible devices on their body. There's no gadgets by their arms or holsters on their waists, and judging from sight he can't discern any potential hidden pockets or compartments where a weapon could be stationed. Especially with his presence which has triggered such upset by the front guards and now her, the fact not a single officer has drawn any weapons is a peculiar observation to him, as even in the case that they have a hidden mechanism to arm themselves, it'd surely have to be ridiculously quick for them to not see a need to preemptively draw.
His attention is pulled back to the Empress on the throne upon her chuffing to that informal dismissal before she leans forward and reprimands in a raising voice directed now to Kokei, "Of course I'm not the one who should be scared here, even if he came here himself. But this isn't some kind of open house that lets just any random tourist peasant tour around here; he's not properly dressed in fact I'm not sure what weird dress he's wearing, he could be leaving dirt all over the floor for all I know, in fact I didn't see a bow. Hey, blueberry, do you have any manners for royalty? Your body should be a corner right now!"
Once more spoken to directly by the Empress, Meditat's eyes dilate, snapping out of his analysis, and upon determining the expected behavior tying historic traditions with implications of her verbal command, he apologizes hastily, "Right, excuse me," before placing his arms at his side in a straightened posture, and then bowing his upper body, lowering his gaze to the floor.
His entire upper body then flashes with a pink outline before he abruptly straightens his posture out of the bow in a jerked motion, forced by Kokei's hand that gestures two fingers up as she sighs and calmly assures, "Michi, Michi, come on, listen to what I have to say first, it'll explain his lack of awareness."
Huffing in continual irritation to the presence of the stranger and his lack of formality, the Empress leans back against her cushioned throne, relaxing her stance and rolling her eyes before dully agreeing, "Okay, go on."
A friendly smirk flares on Kokei's face, and she drops her arm to her side, relinquishing the pink outline from Meditat's body. He stumbles back as that relinquishment leaves a light shove, so Kokei begins to explicate as he stumbles, "I caught Ekitai's invasion before they crossed inland, tried the same old talk down that usually gets him to give up. And maybe it would've worked but that's when this guy fell out of the sky. Ekitai had a fuss thinking I had backup, I figure now that wasn't you who sent him, which good because that saves us an argument, but anyways that's why he started the invasion. This guy got himself involved, tried to help with stopping the attack, but I had it under control and in fact it almost went perfectly. I had a clear shot…and then for some reason he just lost his mind and dragged him away, and I guess Ekitai escaped him and got away and now he's gone."
She points her hand at Meditat who freezes in place upon the accusation: "So he's the reason I didn't catch Ekitai. See, I do report my stuff, I even bring evidence."
She shrugs her shoulders and admits in a more relaxed tone, "Anyways, so Ekitai got away, he'll probably bite his nails for a week or two and come back, and I try the whole thing again. Business as usual."
Behind her, Meditat's eyebrow raises dubiously to her claims before then muttering, "Wait, that's not-," but the Empress's voice speaks first in response: "Oh I got it, he saved the enemy, he's a conspirator. Well I do wish you didn't bring his vile presence inside my palace but it's fine, we'll have him arrested here, maybe he'll cough up some information with enough prying."
At once, the two officers standing before the throne march one step forward, in the direction of Meditat who instinctively takes a minor step back, and while maintaining a formal posture, hastily attempts to reason: "Wait a moment, there's a misunderstanding. I was actively fighting his fleet, I'm not on his side, I can explain myself! Kokei was there too! Please, first allow me the privilege to provide my case Michi," to which Kokei's eyes widen in immediate dread, her jaw dropping in astoundment.
"EXCUSE ME, YOU ARE NEVER TO ADDRESS ME SO CASUALLY," the Empress roars, leaning forward and gripping the arm rests of the throne, nearly about to push herself off though she pauses to remain seated.
On her throne she strictly commands, "You will address me as Her Majesty the Empress, and ONLY Her Majesty the Empress. Not that it matters, I believe you've made your case quite clear already, an arrest won't be enough. Guards, execute this treasonous, conspiratory, vile, wretched, disgusting, vile monster!"
She raises her finger to point it directly at Meditat, who the two guards before her begin marching towards, raising their fists. The other soldiers in the palace, including the ones guarding the open doors begin to approach him from behind to, which he notices with a hasty swivel. He strides a few steps back to distance himself from the guards ahead, shifting into a defensive stance as Kokei releases a heavy sigh, placing her hand on her forehead in disappointment.
Swiveling his head to find the other officers stationed by the walls of the palace room also marching towards him, gradually boxing him in, he observes that oddly enough none of them draw any weapons, not from hidden holsters or otherwise. His eyebrow raises in befuddlement to this, for it'd be quite strange if the officers were meant to rely purely on raw strength to execute him. It's not that it'd be impossible for a group of adults to beat one man to death, but he was no ordinary man, for he reflexively ignites both of his hands in azure flames, priming himself for combat.
All of the officers pause their march in shock to the ignition, and upon noticing their hesitation to his hidden power, Meditat sharpens his gaze before repeating in a bolder tone, "I have no intention of harming you or your people, Her Majesty the Empress. I would still prefer not to, if you allow me to explain my accounts, we can have this situation cleared."
A heavier sigh emits from Kokei, not of relief but further descent into disappointment, as the Empress's face lights up with a fanatical smile before she sneers, "Oh, so I see you've attempted to harness our Supreme Flame? You not only try to deceive me so openly, but mock our conduit? It's far unrefined, no better than a tea warmer, my officers will melt your bones."
Just then, the two officers in between the throne and target raise their fists, and they among all other officers within the palace chant boldly: "Watashi wa tamashi o moyasu!" At once, their fists suddenly ignite with their own flames, vibrant red and purple flames that dance far more wildly than Meditat's. Not only their fists, but their forearms are set ablaze.
All of the officers ignite their arms, bleeding a red and purple hue into the palace room, forming a ring of fire that surrounds the single blue cinder. That cinder steps backwards again, though doesn't have many directions to reposition himself to, as there's an officer no matter where he approaches.
His head swiveling around himself, Meditat's initial dread strangely shifts to fascination before inquiring, "You're…all Exhumans? But sharing the same ability…how? Even for twins it's a miracle…but that…no…how?"
Bitter, vengeful hatred that burns in the Empress's purple eyes also shifts into dumbfoundedness upon the question, straightening her posture and asking in a demanding tone albeit with a discernibly innocent curiosity: "Huh..? 'Exhuman?' What are you talking about?"
Her eyes dilating upon registering another one of these odd misunderstandings, Kokei spins back to face the Empress before recalling in a voice still calm although slightly raised as though just marginally distressed, "He was spouting random words earlier too, he didn't know what Earth he was on, he didn't know the year, he didn't even know the term 'Ultiverse.' Which maybe he's just rambling whatever gibberish junk comes to mind to feign insane, but I don't know, something about him makes it hard to just wave it off as that. He doesn't wield the Supreme Flame, it has completely different mechanics, I'm not sure if I've even seen that conduit before. I'd ask what Earth he's from but judging by him having no clue about anything, I don't think he'd know."
She releases a heavy sigh before raising both hands in a soothing gesture, "He might be stupid, but he's…interesting. I know I'm asking for a lot, but can you just spare him this one time, and let me get some more time with him?"
Raising an eyebrow in intrigue to the bizarre request, the Empress just stares for a few moments in silent contemplation, scrunching her eyebrows.
Behind Kokei, Meditat maintains his defensive stance, his hands still burning bright. His eyes dart around to find that the many officers surrounding them also have their hands and arms blazing, theirs a mixture of red and purple. His gaze then darts back to Kokei, his expression desperate, before then planting his sight on the one who'd decide his fate.
Her forehead scrunched in deep thought, the Empress mutters the condition, "And if he does anything out of line, say anything out of line…."
"Blow him up," Kokei assures with rather frightening resolve, for even Meditat's eyes dilate in slight anxiety. She elaborates, "I'll stay with him at all times, he's harmless with me. If he does something bad, if he says something bad, if it looks like he thinks something bad, I'll either atomize every cell in his body or collapse it all into one atom. I promise you."
An air of relief washes over the Empress, whose forehead relaxes as she sighs. She still shakes her head with a tsk before lecturing, "You're really testing our boundaries today, Kokei. First you let a battle happen right over the city, then you lose their chief, then you bring some sinful, vile, abhorrent creature into my sanctuary, and now you're challenging my authority. You're playing with fire."
"Yeah I know," Kokei casually admits, "and it's heating up the room quite a lot by this point, it's already hot enough from the door being open." She extends her hands towards the Empress before proposing, "So…deal?"
Stern hesitance still dominates the Empress's expression, and remains such for a few moments in additional contemplation. She ultimately washes that with another huff, crossing her arms over her lap and administering, "Fine, deal." She then turns her gaze over to the circle of fire past Kokei's shoulder, who drops her arms with a prideful smirk.
Hearing the confirmation of relinquishment, all of the officers drop their arms to their side, and the flames blazing off those arms extinguish at once, cinders dispersing by the time they've returned to their formal stance.
Ascertaining that no guard left is flaming, the azure flames emitting off Meditat's fists extinguish too, and he loosens his stance to one formal. All of the officers turn to face the Empress and bow forward before they begin to disperse back to their stations, whether by the door, the walls, or the two guards returning in front of the throne.
Swiveling his head to watch the scattering mob, Meditat releases his own sigh of relief, turning back to the Empress to bow his head and thank, "Thank you Her Majesty the-," to which Kokei interjects, "Looks like we're all good here, I just wanted to give you that quick little update, main point is Ekitai is still out there and I'm sure he'll be coming for another rematch. If it's all good with you, I'm going to take him out of here, get out of your hair and all."
Leaning back against her throne, the Empress dismissively waves her hand and permits, "Please do, his outfit is damaging my eyes. If you bring him back here alive again, do please dress him in something more proper. I can designate a tailor if need be."
Kokei raises both hands with thumbs up and begins drifting backwards, dismissing back: "I think we should be fine, I'll have it figured out. But okay, cool, great, I guess I'll either see you tonight or earlier if Ekitai really wants to try a rebound. But I think we're fine, at least for a few days if not weeks."
As she passes Meditat, his upper body again is outlined pink and jerked upright, breaking his bow. The outline around most of his upper body vanishes, all except for his right hand which flings towards her, seemingly against his will as his entire body stumbles towards her, as though having been tugged. The outline then completely vanishes, leaving Meditat to follow after Kokei himself, spinning his head back to the Empress with an open mouth to leave any departing messages, though he chooses to shut that mouth and face forward again.
Understanding that practically any attempt to speak for himself is simply jeopardizing his own case, especially after all that Kokei did to save him, he resigns himself to following her out through the open doors, back out to the gravel path outside amongst the red garden.
Watching the two leave the palace with sharpened purple eyes, the Empress stalks in silence from her throne, leaning back in a relaxed stance, her arms back on the armrests. Her cold expression blends with subtle surprise and intrigue, overall quite thrown off by the interaction as a whole, including Kokei's sparing plea. Perhaps Kokei's made pleas of similar nature in the past, perhaps this is the very first she's ever made, but judging by the Empress's introspective expression, it's clear that her actions weren't ones made casually, at least not lightly.
That stare holds as Kokei drifts over the gravel path, bathed once more in the gentle red hue of sunlight, hearing the rustling of the leaves of the garden that surrounds the palace. She glances at those trees as behind her follows Meditat in a hurried walk, catching up with her while briefly spinning his head to take quick glances of the scene he just escaped from.
His gaze then shifts to the doors that creak before beginning to close shut, slow and steady just like the opening, the weight of the doors felt in the mechanical grinding of the closure. Both of the guards who are standing by the door march slowly back to their positions in front as the two doors press aligned to the wall, thinning the gap between. Meditat takes one last glance through that gap, watching it snuff out entirely before him with a loud thud, the palace gated once more. He returns his gaze forward with a low head, his gaze lingering on the gravel path he departs on, a frown apparent on his face in disappointment and shame. He sighs softly to himself as the wind plays with his hair once again, the same as Kokei's who's kept her sights forward. She places her hands behind her back while gliding, smiling subtly while taking in her surroundings.
Forward, she observes the gate at the perimeter wall where the horde of guards remain stationed, awaiting them. The gate has been closed shut, though the guards take notice of their approach, the older man speaking to the rest in an unintelligible command. Two of the guards turn and each approach a different side of the gate where on each side are two large levers planted onto a panel mounted to the wall.
Witnessing the process of reopening the gates, Kokei huffs before calmly mentioning, "Since we're already inside, we can just fly out from here. It's at least way faster, and the security shouldn't shoot you down for leaving."
Behind her, Meditat perks and tilts his head, frowning in apprehension to that flimsy assurance, though he shrugs his shoulders and accepts in a defeated tone, "You'd know their security far more than me, if you're confident then I'm fine launching from here."
A giggle passes out of Kokei which perplexes Meditat by his expression, and she elaborates playfully, "You sound so depressed, you know so many people here practically worship her, if they ever met her it'd no doubt be the most important day of their lives above marriage and having a child."
Huffing upon the awareness that his somber mood's been discerned, Meditat droops his gaze back down before reflecting, "I've spoken to officials before, world presidents, even of Earths that disliked me. I'm capable of proper articulation and conduct, I should've been able to establish positive relations there, yet if it weren't for you I'd have likely become blacklisted. I know the correct etiquette and yet…it's like there's this fog in my head, and I'm functioning subpar because of it. It's an excuse, I'm aware."
Kokei's relaxed expression morphs into one of contemplation, scrunching her eyebrows and subtly lowering her own head in thought. The back of her head remains to face Meditat, barring him from reading these expressions, as she then raises her head to the sky with a shift of resolution, her face again relaxing with a smile, brighter even. Bright as the idea that rose to her mind, Kokei relays that thought: "Here, follow me. It's clear you've never been here before, so if you're going to be stationed here too, you may as well know the area."
His eyebrow raising in curiosity, Meditat's head does too before he questions, "I'm…going to be stationed?" His gaze then locks not onto the back of her head but below upon noticing a gesture.
That gesture is of her hands behind her back, her right hand's fingers flapping up as if a command to follow. Her hand continues to do so as it rises, or rather her entire body does in a gradual ascent.
She simply repeats, "Just keep up," before she then accelerates into a rocket, shooting up into the sky, the pink outline around her body flaring up enough that it exhausts a trail of light.
Straight ahead below her, the gates to the perimeter wall just now begin to swing open, slow with a heavy grind, as all four of the levers formerly up are now down. The two officers who had approached those levers turn to stare back upon hearing the whoosh of the launch, and all the others do too, stunned.
Recognizing that they've stalled enough for the guards to take action only to immediately render it obsolete, Meditat flashes an awkward smile, and without wanting to be left behind to see their reactions explode, he raises his head and springs into the air before he too launches for the sky, exhausting his own trail of light.
Further away those guards become –facing one another in bewilderment after bamboozlement with shaking heads before pushing the levers back up– far behind and below Meditat who travels in a rising arc traced by the blue comet, following behind the pink tail. He squeezes his arms beside his torso in a more aerodynamic posture before accelerating with thicker propulsion, pursuing the tail's arc until he's beside its head, where Kokei's body isn't as tightly packed for she instead carries herself with a relaxed pose. She rotates her whole body while continuing forward to greet Meditat with a soft smile, before then facing forth and bending her flight path to flatten the arc, leveling out not too far below the clouds. Meditat follows suit with mirrorlike accuracy, briefly glancing at her to find her gaze lingering below, to which he guides his own towards the same in curiosity.
He's brought to the sights of the red city far below, the circular layout apparent from their altitude, as though the city was a ripple of the hill that the palace stood atop. Blocks of buildings seemingly without height are separated by the network of roads occupied by masses of dots, some of which are slightly larger, though generally the same from afar. What is distinguished is some of those dots move inhumanly fast, passing buildings within seconds which may appear small but Meditat's aware that sprinting that distance would be no easy feat.
That impossibility intrigues him, prompting Meditat's eyes to sharpen, and the lens of his eyes brighten a subtle hue like contacts, an especially brighter ring over his iris spinning like the zoom of a camera.
His sight does magnify as a result, the buildings growing much larger to a more reasonable scale and the dots enlarging enough to take distinct shape and color. The comparatively slower dots become pronounced as people, men, women, and children of all ages strolling the streets, many of them dressed in coats.
The dots that were moving suspiciously fast are defined as those vehicles resembling automobiles, yet they drive over the roads just as the people, as from his perspective it almost seems they're mindlessly cruising through them. However the sight is definitely not so grim, for it instead seems the automobiles are above those people given that they obscure the crowds, moving in two lanes opposing directions, some of them slowing down at intersecting paths and turning into orthogonal lanes. The vehicles resembled that of mid 1900s Japanese cars, small and boxy, though clearly more advanced.
Keeping his enhanced eyes trained on the moving vehicles, Meditat observes out loud whilst maintaining pace alongside Kokei: "So indeed there are pods here, similar to those I'm familiar with. Those used in the invasion were nothing like what I've seen however, they didn't resemble the trucks normally used in warfare, they didn't…resemble anything vehicular really."
Beside him, Kokei keeps her gaze samely to the city below but answers with a slight smirk, "Half of the things you say are gibberish, but I feel like every time you talk I maybe understand just a tiny bit more. If you're referring to the fars down there, yeah Ekitai's fleet wasn't made of them, he's not some low level gang too broke to afford a ship. And I still don't know where you're from because I've never seen any kind of group fight with trucks outside of transporting stuff, do they ram into each other or something? That'd be crazy, crashing yourself as an attack."
Meditat chuffs and shakes his head, glancing over at Kokei to that inference before facing back at the city and answering, "No, that was never a common tactic." He then pauses and contemplates for a moment, frowning upon the recollection of memories recorded from a former self, before then subtly introspecting in a murmur, "How was that me?"
Not hearing that second comment, Kokei huffs pridefully before boasting, "Well hey, far or ship, they're all just as harmless and fragile to me. Maybe he will come back with an armada of little trucks, at least he'd waste less money on these pointless scuffles."
Meditat frowns upon that reminder, the illuminated contacts over his eyes fading away to reveal his natural hues which shift focus as he glances over to Kokei who continues, "He hasn't reached anywhere near the capital in a long time, which is good because honestly I don't really want them to have to rebuild it. I've gotten comfortable with this view, I mean it's far from the coolest, don't tell Michi this but honestly as far as cities goes, hers is a bit lackluster on the scale and stuff. But there's quirks here and there, it's not bad right? And from here, you can see everything."
His somber frown turned contemplative, Meditat's expression neutralizes before he faces back down at the city, and he hums gently to himself. He nods his head before recollecting, "I do admit I'm more accustomed to taller cities, the skyscrapers from home were grand enough they'd cover the skies from the streets, I'd practically always be surrounded by them less I was entering the atmosphere. But I've explored cities like these too, there's a different charm to them, it's calmer. Though from this height it's as if I can't see anything, usually I'd be much lower."
While his head remains low, Kokei raises hers to face Meditat, and she leans her body on its side as if laying on her shoulder, a smirk on her face as she remarks, "I, the great Kokei, was showing you one of my cherished hobbies and you immediately critique it, huh? You know my name so you clearly know me, who doesn't, yet it's simultaneously as though you've heard nothing of my reputation."
Raising his eyebrow first, next Meditat lifts his head and greets Kokei's gaze with his own, both of them still flying in the same direction forth beneath the gray clouds over the red skies. He hums in reflection before then tilting his head and innocently asking, "Speaking of, you don't know me either…do you? Neither did the empress or her guards, you truly don't recognize the name 'Meditat?'"
Straight on, Kokei just stares at Meditat with widening eyes, an almost oppressive stare for she falls entirely silent, only the sound of the blasting winds between them. Her hair ruffles against the current, yet her head remains perfectly fixed, just staring.
That stare digs beneath Meditat's skin as his innocently curious expression shifts apprehensive, then anxious as his own gaze wavers, bouncing off her and the endless horizon ahead, his mouth slightly agape to prime for a quick followup to break this awkward silence.
Her pupils like singularities and the pink irises like the ascension disk, Kokei's stare draws Meditat's whole mind in despite his fight to escape, stretching him into discomfort. But that's when she bursts out in laughter, giggling whilst sneering, "Wait, are you serious?? I can't tell if you're joking, if you are then you might be the funniest person I've ever met, and if you're not then you're definitely the funniest person I've ever met!"
It's as though a bullet was shot straight through Meditat's chest, as his eyes are now the ones to shoot wide open in shock, now the one to stare silently as Kokei continues to howl in amusement. His stare collapses with embarrassment as his cheeks redden and his gaze now completely pushes off of her, swinging back to the city once again with a frown, his mouth open but without words, for any of his would be drowned by her laughter.
Letting him ruminate in her laughter for a painfully extended moment, Kokei finally begins to calm herself as she wipes her eye –her hand momentarily losing its pink outline before contact before it then flashes again– and she climbs back down to more coherently offer, "Okay, to be honest I don't usually like flying too low but just this time, sure I'll let you have it. Anything to make a fan feel more special!"
She then turns her body again, not rotating it facing the city but continuing to turn completely on her back, laying on the sky with her gaze to the clouds. She smiles gleefully as she begins to descend sharply into a plummet. Meditat's eyes widen upon that sudden drop, and he races to follow into a dive, propelling himself with further energy to match her acceleration.
Enough time having passed since the invasion, the streets have balanced themselves back to their appropriate density, pedestrians strolling on foot calming their pace from the frantic rush out, now at a relaxed pace on both lanes. There are certainly outliers, younger adults weaving through the crowd with urgency, yet the majority of the citizens wandering the roads move in a steady saunter, parents holding their children's hands.
A few stories above them pass the airborne vehicles defined as fars, safely spaced so as to not form a low ceiling above the street, though the vehicles hover below the roofs of most of the city buildings. There aren't too many of them either, certainly no congested traffic a more chaotic city may face, for while they emit a hum of their engine, it doesn't drown the streets' pedestrian voices. Every several seconds, another far passes overhead, but it leaves the skies plenty clear, enough for the sight of the descending pink and blue comets to be noticed by one of the children guided by their mother. That child continues to follow their parents forward while their gaze tracks the comets behind him, silently watching as they draw closer.
Growing larger to the child's perspective, he stops abruptly to which his mother stops too, puzzled as she questions her child, but upon noticing him point to the sky, she now curiously wanders her gaze to the same sight where she too freezes in fascination. Other pedestrians take notice whether by the family or on their own, and some of them even begin backing away in concern as they plummet closer for them, no signs of tapering. Believing those comets to be on a collision course for them, some of the pedestrians huddle away and shout to one another anxiously, but just as the two comets reach the roofs of the city structures, they then lift sharply and level, continuing on ahead aligned with the road without crashing into it or the vehicles. The child, mother, and other citizens just watch in awe with gasps of astonishment to find the two comets fly so intimately to the streets, racing over the fars, gliding past them with a whoosh.
Soaring just above the rooftops, Kokei glides forward with her body outlined pink, that light great enough that it leaves a trail, similar to Meditat who follows right beside her, both of them taking different lanes of the road above the strollers and fars, several stories above the vehicles they zoom past given they're much faster.
Like the parallax effect without illusion, the two fly faster than the vehicles that drive faster than the pedestrians that walk. None of them are dots or blobs, for their shape, color, and character can all be read from a glance, whether it's the fars' various colors and sizes or the cityfolks' diverse attire and ages.
The buildings can be viewed as more than just white patches over the gray roads, but their walls stand beside the two, scarlet or white depending on the structure, the windows exposing glimpses into interior offices and hallways, where adults in suits work at desks or pace in groups.
Briefly glancing at Meditat, Kokei smirks to herself before she begins accelerating, passing him and prompting his attention. He watches as she spins around to face him, extending her arms out openly, as though parading her flexibility without sacrificing forward speed, having noticed his far tighter stance in flight.
Scrunching his forehead upon discerning this distinction, Meditat hums briefly to himself before then choosing to swing his feet forward, reorienting himself upright at the cost of aerodynamics in flight. Before his change in pose can affect his speed however, he reaches his right hand forward, and off the inner white material of his glove projects a cable made of a plasmic blue energy, one that fires much faster than him and Kokei, striking the corner of a rooftop further ahead.
That cable immediately straightens and begins shortening rapidly, pulling him at speeds that, despite operating off manual gestures, surpasses Kokei for a brief moment, leaving her gloating at nobody to which she chuffs to herself and accelerates to catch him, spinning back to face her path of flight.
Alternating hands, Meditat reaches forth and projects another cable from his palm while releasing his other hand, allowing the cable he just zipped from to dismiss itself in a dispersal of light. Given how far the cables manage to reach, he doesn't need to throw his arms hastily, as his body's motions appear relaxed if anything, effortless.
He glances to his left to find Kokei catch up beside him, rolling to her side to meet his gaze as they fly through an intersection where she abruptly turns left, yet her body remains facing Meditat who's quick to spin and project the next cable onto the corner of the left building's roof at the intersection, holding it without reeling it as his body then naturally swings around the point.
Among the crowd on the intersecting street beneath the traffic, a young man and woman walk beside each other, at the center of the intersection when they both raise their heads upon the whooshes of the pink and blue comets, watching the blue bolt spin a thread onto the building's edge to orbit, that thread then snapping and dispersing after it centers its course down the next street. They murmur to each other as do other pedestrians passing by, some of them peering over shoulders to try grabbing glimpses of the two comets that've already passed the next block, their trails slowly fading into the red skies.
Many of the buildings composing the city are offices, one of their meeting rooms featuring salmon-colored walls that surround the dark wooden table, supported on physical legs, similar to the surrounding chairs which adults are seated on, dressed in proper business suits, though many of them have their coats draped over the seat's back as their white shirts are plenty heating.
They discuss amongst themselves in debate as a few of them stand, one of them in front of the large window providing a view to the opposite building across the street. Judging by the inability to see the street or fars, the floor of this meeting room is likely above the natural far lanes. Only one of the employees notice a blue wire dart across the window, and just as he perks his head up, the man in the azure blue suit zooms past the window, yanking back the arm holding onto the retracting wire as a blue trail of light exhausts off his body, matching parallel to the pink trail residually offputted by the outline around the woman in the rose gold kimono.
Their passage carries a whoosh that reaches through the window and walls, prompting the other employees to turn their attention to the window as the one worker already staring then points his finger, much to the perplexity of the one standing in front of the window, his back turned to the brief sight. That worker turns around, not able to lay eyes on the cruising figures but their trails remain, dissipating noticeably but prominent just seconds past their release. Chatter uproars within the meeting as other employees stand to their feet, to which the one standing by the window gestures their hands in a downward wave to calm them down, lecturing them as clear by his stern expression.
The reflection of that office briefly flashes in Meditat's starry eyes, his focus not on the street ahead but the glass walls that stand beside it, for he's far more intrigued in what he can peer through, even if for fractions of a second. Swinging from block to block, more buildings are passed, their windows close enough to his elevation for him to glance at the window even if for a flicker of a moment. He wears a gentle smile at the sights, his hair dancing in the wind as forcefully as his cape, yet no strands obstruct his vision.
Despite his attention drifting to his side, his arms continue to cycle between cable zips with the same fluidity as when he was focused forward, his movements effortless, muscle memory etched into his body harmonious with his suit.
His gaze then drifts down below to the river of fars soared past with enough speed that they seem to drift slowly in comparison, a single layer above the physical street, both directions of traffic gliding adjacent. Between the blurred metal boxes are the pedestrians below, and from just staring directly downward, they all seem frozen in snapshot as they don't move discernibly before exiting his vision.
As he slowly raises his head, he can better watch the crowded strolling of the civilians, as the ones further in the distance are more clearly pacing. The streets aren't immensely packed, the asphalt roads are plenty visible, but it's far from desolate, a healthy current powering a living city.
Those civilians on the street raise their heads past the traffic, also taking notice of those watching them, witnessing the pink and blue rays of light shoot over the sky, though they're dim enough that they could just barely muster the figures of people at the heads. Those trained enough to catch a few seconds of those figures can perceive the blue cables projecting off of the hands of the one at the head of the blue streak, which travels across a whole block practically instantly before being reeled as the figure is guided by that path. Some of the pedestrians managing to spot that specification point it out to their peers with raised hands, pulling their inquisitive companions whilst continuing to pace forward, not stopping the flow of traffic but still admiring the sight.
Watching those strollers, keenly observing the ones looking back at him, Meditat's gaze remains forward at a downward tilt to enjoy the city's view from above yet not too far removed. His starry azure irises glimmer, his face relaxed as the stress of the imperial meeting has seemed to wash from his system, the wind blowing into his face not bothering him but if anything offers more to appreciate as he smiles at the physicality of the current he travels.
Next to him, Kokei's gaze also wanders around the city, relaxed although her expression is more neutral when gazing directly at the buildings and traffic, at least not smiling to the extent of the stranger. She lets out a soft sigh before turning her sights to Meditat, whose head remains forward, but from the side profile she captures she can clearly read the delight he derives from the serene vista. Her eyebrow raises, seemingly curious of his expression, pondering to herself as she keeps her gaze fixed.
Swapping his hands to project the next cable, Meditat feels the breeze that pulls his hair back, his wavy strands following the stream. While his head stays forward, his eyes dart to the corner upon sensing the attention, and he turns his head to meet the stare planted on him, meeting it with a soft, peaceful smile.
Taken aback by the sudden reflected attention, Kokei's eyes widen subtly, washing out her puzzlement, and she then recovers into a mirrored smile, huffing to herself as if finding amusement in her own thoughts. She then gestures her hand towards him as they pass another intersection, which her body gravitates towards in another turn, flying backwards to watch Meditat snap his current cable while spinning to then project another at the corner of the intersection, pivoting around to follow after her. She watches him complete that turn after such little signaling, and as he propels himself with a dash to reach her side, she spins around to face forward again, a playful spirit lighting up her pink irises as she advances forth in their aerial stroll.