Soaring through the oceans of clouds, the chill past her ears and the air so thin... Her closed eyes opened up, done imagining that mory for the umpteenth ti now.
Stood upon a balcony alone, stars above her; a lavish white blouse with frills going down her neck and around her wrists—a glass of cream liquor in her hand.
It had been an hour or two since the fireworks stopped; she couldn’t quite get the best view of the cityscape from this lower balcony, but the pretty bright lights painted enough of an image.
With a sigh into the midnight, she took a sip as she turned around. Her long, gold embroidered skirt and freed blonde locks fluttered in the wind as her shoes clacked back into the palace.
The guests had gone to rest, all the fireworks still ringing in their ears the sa it did in their mories. The blonde simply was the last person to return to the grand ballroom.
The first hours into a new year and her mascaraed eyes imdiately glazed over as she entered the room, where multicoloured strears and confetti littered the floors, chairs were dragged out of place and the music was long gone.
Jotou arched her head back to stare straight up to the ceiling, "Why the hell is ko on the chandelier...?"
With an empty bottle of champagne and an opulent gold gown, the princess approached, "Oh, you’re backh Joey Toes~ Don’t worry, ssshe’ss fine," Daiyu... reassured?
"I FOUND IT! I FOUND THE CICADA THAT INFILTRATED THE BALLROOM! DON’T QUESTION MY DETECTIVE ABILITIES EVER AGAIN!" the upside down brunette yelled down.
Jotou peered back down to a redhead in a sparkling blue dress slumped over a table, with a tipped over glass of so drink; her ears were folded and tail was at rest while her shoulders moved with every breath.
Daiyu stumbled over and hung her arm around Jotou. With a devious grin she pointed up to Fuko and loudly whispered, "There—chuckle—isn’t a cicada up there—sniffle—Sobi’s right over there.
She’ss, making a fake cicada—hIccup—with the noises," Daiyu pointed over to Asobi below, who was waving her wand up to the ceiling.
The magician with coiffed hair and in a black dress, swayed from side-to-side, "Wine, wine, bubbly wine, makes bubbly all the ti~" she sang in a mutter to herself. With a humming smile, she moved the cicada away.
"IT’S GETTING AWAY!" Fuko with shadows on her palms and feet, crawled across the ceiling to chase it.
The loopy grin barely faded from the Undying Princess, "We’re ssing with Fus, she got drunk~! She’s been chasing that thing across the ceiling like a cAt," she snorted.
Jotou fluttered her lashes...
"Ms Jotou, welco back," Feyan approached; combed hair and a purple suit he wore.
"I don’t know if I wanna be welcod," Jotou watched as Fuko darted across the ceiling. "At least soone’s sober," she faced the half-elf.
"Hmph, he didn’t drink at all. Party pooper," Daiyu stuck her tongue out.
Feyan shook his head, "I believe it is ti we head to sleep. There will be festivities in the morning as well. I could restore so amount of inhibition to so of them. I would suggest we start with Detective Namora before she injures herself..."
"Probably a good idea. Asobi, get the cicada down," Jotou shouted over.
"Huuh...? Oh, got it...!" Asobi moved the cicada across the ceiling and down the wall, with a Fuko—in a magenta gown and skirted white leggings—trailing behind it. So of the worried staff exhaled in relief.
"Hotaru’s knocked out; no need for spells, I’ll carry her back to our room," Jotou told.
"Where’s Araaa?" Daiyu squinted around.
"My lady, she went to send my brother off, rember?" Feyan raised his hand to Daiyu and began to cast.
"Hey, hey! NO!" Daiyu protested childishly and recoiled back.
"Princess, it is just to restore your inhibition, please. You will feel terrible when you awaken in the morning."
"No, no, no! I like my head, I like my buzzzz, I like my feeet, which you’re gonna have to outrun to do your witchcraft!" Daiyu cackled and sprinted away- "THUD!" Her heels ca flying off as she tripped and fell onto the ballroom floor. "Ow..."
"My lady," Feyan sighed. Both him and Jotou pulled Daiyu back up on her feet, where she barely stood. Feyan put an arm under her shoulder to keep her up. Daiyu’s head hung whilst her eyes drooped.
"I think you should just take her to her room. She’s not busy with anything that needs her brains tomorrow, so I say her let suffer the consequences."
"I do not want the princess to suffer... but I suppose you have a point Ms Howllett."
Jotou took a deep breath and stared to the rest of the disordered room. ’Self-proclaid detective Fuko Namora, the Amazing Asobi and the Azure Firefly... Two of them drunk and one completely wasted...
The Undying Princess, the monarch of Cravolta, who’s fully drunk, just fell face first into the floor after attempting to race her royal advisor while wearing heels... This seems like a good on for the rest of the year...’
_
Hotaru had curled up in bed, hugging her tail. Tucked under the sheets after Jotou had managed to change the redhead’s attire. The last she recalled of Hotaru being conscious, was when she got that kiss at the stroke of midnight not but a few hours ago.
The blonde slowly removed her makeup over the bathroom sink, watching the movents of her own eyes in the mirror. Only then she realized she wasn’t smiling in the slightest.
New Year’s day. Awfully close to a special day... Jotou shook her head and cleaned off any leftover traces of costics, not that there was much to begin with.
With bags under her eyes and a face freshly washed with cold water, she changed into a more comfortable nightgown and yawned. The hour had gone past four in the morning.
"I’ll survive with a bit of coffee and sleep tomorrow," she hushed to herself. Thoughts of yesteryear clouded her mind, both before and after she crashed in that car.
"Tch..." With her mind not at rest, she could only knit her brows. She opened up a chest in the room, taking out a painting canvas, a few brushes and multiple paints arranged in a small box.
She left the curtains open; not like Hotaru was going to wake up. Jotou stepped onto the balcony, stars and wisps of clouds over her head as she sauntered over to an easel to set the canvas upon.
Squeezing out the paints from tal tubes onto the protruding bottom edge of the easel, the blonde flicked a dium paintbrush onto the blank canvas—and began painting whatever thoughts plagued her mind.
’It’s been two months since I woke up after Fuko saved . The Trailon Regi is officially out of the war. Still, with such a historic mont, cos a lot of work to deal with the aftermath.
Hotaru, Feyan, Daiyu and by extension Arabella, have all been extrely busy the past few weeks. Fuko, Asobi and , much less so.
I’ve been exploring the palace for the most part; there’s actually a lot to see. The pool, the multiple courtyards on different floors, the gardens, the little puppy sanctuary; the library alone would take a year or two to get through, not to ntion they get more books nearly every day.
The invasion border west of Galuvit is still being cleared out and reclaid. Apparently it’s lasted for a few years; enough ti for small settlents to form and even have families.
There’s been a lot of discussion and debate in the Council of Cravolta of the area. They’re now offering Cravoltan citizenships to the inhabitants there as they go through.’
Jotou switched brushes as she painted, not caring for the slight breeze drifting her bangs into her eyes. Her hair had grown back to its length prior to cutting it, her nails still curved and smooth however.
’They say you change when you get older, but I don’t think anyone ant a change this drastic.’ Her blonde bangs still ended in black and her eyes were still his; she gave a dry chuckle.
’Speaking of changes; Luxinor lost its king. Last month Daiyu and Arabella went to King Akimitsu proper funeral ceremony in Luxinor, leaving Feyan, Hotaru and Archduke Guuraj to manage the country for a couple of days. It seems now the queen is ruling Luxinor alone.’
"Rest in peace," Jotou muttered.
’Then, today’s party. Dressed up fancy again, Hotaru as my date, not too many guests, all from Cravolta. It was a pleasant celebration and the fireworks were really pretty. And I guess everyone decided to get drunk...’
Jotou gulped, dipping her brush into red paint.
’You’re a lightweight Hotaru. But your dad was a drunkard... How do you not fight the thought of becoming like him...? I know you’re just having fun, but how is that not a worry of yours?
Maybe it’s just ; you’re way more responsible and I guess a few tis isn’t as bad as getting drunk every night. But losing that much control, not knowing what you’re doing as you stumble about...
Being so far gone, saying and doing things you won’t even recall the next day. It’ll be like nothing happened, but everyone around you will rember your actions.
I could never. But I understand wanting to feel that buzzed; to indulge in sothing so intoxicating till you feel bliss. Ah...’ The strokes of the paintbrush llowed. ’So that’s what’s bothering —again.
The last day of the last stand... Over the course of weeks, the lives I took in that last stand have haunted . When I used that spell, I could barely see where I was aiming; as if I had turned into electrical energy myself.
But I could definitely see the corpses and hear the screams... How many families did I sever? How many stories did I cut short...? It’s a new year and I still feel like ; even after everything I’ve done, I’m the sa.
It’s not trauma, but just thoughts that keep coming back. I’ve completely moved on from killing all those people, maybe even on the day I woke up.
The thoughts that it was wrong and I should feel bad. But I already knew the solution, I just haven’t fully convinced myself I guess, even to this day. But every thought needs ti to heal and simr; and now at least, I know what to do.
I was never a person to make New Year’s resolutions, I thought it was stupid. Yet, here I am making one right now. Sigh...
In any case, I can’t let these things haunt ; it serves no purpose. The only thing I can do, is to move forward, and be considerate of those I face; I doubt that was my last ti raising a blade... but killing can’t be my only option.
I have to make it my last resort—an extre. Otherwise, I’ll be nothing more than a ruthless murderer, feared and hated... I promise to be better.’
Jotou set the paintbrush aside. Upon the canvas was a basic painting of a desert and hills; undried and unrefined. It’s not like she was going for a masterpiece. A starry night sky, with the Moon beaming down.
Across the sands were dozens of tiny black silhouettes of people; so stood but most were fallen. Red was all over the place, mainly in blotches coming from the silhouettes.
Yellow paint had been carefully splattered to look like sparks of electricity across the entire painting. Jotou took a deep breath... and let it all out.
She took the painting off the easel and walked to the edge of the balcony. She held the painting by the top and bottom in both hands.
’I’m sorry to all of the lives I’ve killed; but I can no longer feel remorse or think about you for the sake of my own life. So, leave alone, I made my choice; goodbye.’
"SNAP!" She broke the canvas in two over her knee covered in sparks. She held both pieces of the canvas and held it over the edge as lightning zapped from her hands.
In the breeze, the ash of the canvas flew bit by bit as she zapped it through. The yellow light glowed throughout the balcony till Jotou had a left fist full off ash, most of it taken by the wind.
She looked to her closed fist, her painting nothing but dust now. Jotou closed her eyes and planted a gentle kiss across her knuckles and opened her palm over the balcony.
Releasing the ash, she gave it one final blow to send it all off... And that was it; she dusted off her hands and leaned on the balustrade to stare at the stars...
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