CHAPTER 383: UNITED IN CELEBRATION, PART ELEVEN

{Melisa}

Five days remained until the Lunar Festival.

By now, all sorts of rumors had slowly spread through the capital. People said nim were forming gangs to hurt innocent kitsune. People said more nim assassins were hiding in the shadows. Some people even said Melisa herself was here alongside the queen of Syux for no other reason than to try to establish her dominance.

And through it all, Melisa and Rakia kept working.

"Right, right, right, no, left!" Rakia instructed as Melisa helped hang some items up.

The festival preparation area was chaos. Beautiful, organized chaos, but chaos nonetheless. Kitsune performers stretched and practiced routines while others painted massive backdrops. The air smelled like paint, sweat, and that weird incense kitsune loved that made everything feel slightly fuzzy.

"Higher! No, lower! Perfect!" Rakia bounced on her toes. "Oh, this is going to be MAGNIFICENT!"

Melisa’s arms burned from holding up the heavy silk banner for the past ten minutes.

"Can I put this down yet?"

"Almost! Just need to... there!" Rakia clapped her hands. "You can let go now."

Melisa dropped her arms with a groan. The banner, depicting nim and kitsune dancing together under a full moon, rippled in the breeze coming through the open pavilion.

"It’s beautiful," one of the other performers said. She was a stunning kitsune with silver hair and exquisite breasts. "Very symbolic."

"Symbolic my ass," another performer laughed. "Rakia just wanted an excuse to paint naked people."

"Art doesn’t need excuses!" Rakia declared, grabbing Melisa’s hand. "Come on, we need to check the stage setup."

[This girl has more energy than Isabella after discovering a new spell. How is that even possible?]

The main stage was massive, easily three times the size of anything Melisa had seen in Syux. Workers hammered platforms into place while others tested the magical lighting systems that would illuminate the performances.

"So," Rakia said, watching Melisa watch the dancers rehearse, "what’s your background in performance?"

"My what now?"

"Performance! Dancing, singing, acting?"

"Oh. None."

Rakia stopped walking so suddenly that Melisa nearly crashed into her.

"None? NONE?!"

"I mean, I’ve been in some fights that probably looked choreographed?"

"Fighting is not dancing!"

"Well, arguably, they’re both about movement and timing—"

"NOPE! They are NOT the same!" Rakia grabbed Melisa’s shoulders. "How can you perform at the festival if you can’t dance?"

"I thought I was just going to stand there and look pretty while you did all the actual performing."

Rakia’s eyes went wide with horror.

"Just... stand there? Look pretty? JUST STAND THERE?!"

"Is that not the plan?"

"No! No, no, no, no, no!" Rakia started pacing in circles around Melisa. "You’re the symbol of nim-kitsune unity! You need to MOVE! To EXPRESS! To make people FEEL things!"

"I make people feel things. Usually it’s arousal or annoyance, but—"

"Not those kinds of feelings!" Rakia paused. "Well, actually, arousal could work. We could do something with that."

"Please don’t make me seduce the entire audience."

"Why not? You’re nim! It’s literally your thing!"

"That’s... kinda racist."

"Is it racist if it’s true?" Rakia tilted her head. "Besides, I’ve seen how you move. You have natural grace."

"I really don’t."

"Nonsense! Everyone is a dancer! They just need to find their rhythm." Rakia grabbed Melisa’s hands and pulled her into a spin. "See? You’re already moving!"

"This is just spinning!"

"All dance is just movement with intention!" Rakia dipped her dramatically, and Melisa’s face went red as she found herself staring up at the kitsune’s grinning face. "And you, my dear, have SUCH interesting intentions."

[Why does everyone in this country have to be so forward?]

"Rakia! Stop molesting our guest!" One of the silver-haired performers called out.

"It’s not molesting if she likes it!" Rakia called back, pulling Melisa upright.

"I never said I liked it!"

"Your tail says otherwise."

Melisa looked back to see her tail was indeed raised and the heart-shaped tip was twitching slightly.

[Traitor!]

"That’s just... biological responses. Means nothing."

"Mm-hmm." Rakia’s grin was insufferable. "Come on, let me at least teach you some basic steps. The festival is in five days!"

"Can’t I just—"

"No standing still! We’re creating ART!"

---

Three hours later, Melisa stumbled out of the rehearsal pavilion feeling like she’d been through a particularly aggressive washing machine. Rakia had tried to teach her at least six different dance styles, each more complicated than the last.

[I’m going to die. The festival hasn’t even started and that girl is going to kill me with choreography.]

The sun was setting, painting the palace grounds in shades of gold and orange. Melisa made her way back toward the guest quarters, her legs protesting with every step.

She found Armia sitting alone in one of the gardens, staring at nothing in particular.

"Hey," Melisa said, collapsing onto the bench beside her. "You look about as happy as I feel."

Armia glanced at her.

"Rough day?"

"Rakia tried to teach me to dance. I think I pulled muscles I didn’t know existed." Melisa stretched, her back popping. "What about you? You’ve been weird lately."

"I’m not weird."

"You’re sitting alone in a garden looking like someone kicked your puppy. That’s pretty weird for you."

Armia was quiet for a moment.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What do you... like about me?"

Melisa blinked.

"That’s a loaded question."

"Just answer it."

"Well..." Melisa considered. "Your cock is pretty great."

"Melisa!"

"What? It is! It’s like... proportionally huge. The first time I saw it I thought ’how does she walk with that thing?’"

Armia’s face was burning red.

"That’s not what I meant."

"I know." Melisa’s voice softened. "You want a real answer?"

"Please."

Melisa turned to face her properly.

"I like that you’re trying to be something more than what people expect. That takes guts. Most people just accept the box they’re put in, but you looked at yours and said ’fuck that, I’m making my own box.’"

"But what if I’m doing it wrong?"

"There is no wrong. That’s the whole point." Melisa reached out and took Armia’s hand. "You’re strong and elegant and smart and you care so much about everything. Even when you’re trying to act all stern and proper, I can see how much you care."

"Really?"

"Really. Plus you look incredible in a dress. Like, seriously, your legs in that gown at the gala? I thought I was going to pass out."

Armia laughed despite herself.

"You’re terrible."

"I’m telling you the truth," Melisa squeezed her hand. "And since we’re being honest? Your cock really is amazing. Like, scientifically impressive. I’ve done measurements."

"You have not!"

"In my head! It’s at least—"

"Stop!"

"What? I’m just appreciating your assets!" Melisa grinned. "All of them. The physical ones and the personality ones."

"You can’t just... jump between heartfelt and horny like that."

"Watch me. It’s called range." Melisa stood up, pulling Armia with her. "Come on. Let’s go find the others before Isabella does something that causes an international incident."

"She wouldn’t."

"She absolutely would. Yesterday she tried to sell wands to a shop and when they refused because of me, she threatened to ’make their dicks explode with magic.’"

"She WHAT?"

"Yeah, Kimiko had to drag her out." Melisa started walking, Armia’s hand still in hers. "Come on."

They walked through the palace grounds as the last rays of sunlight faded away. Despite everything, the rumors, the assassination attempts, the constant chaos, Melisa felt oddly at peace.

[Five more days. Just need to survive five more days and then we can go home.]

Though part of her wondered if, after all this, Syux would even feel like home anymore.