Akuma stretched, the tension in his shoulders finally loosening as he leaned against one of the ballroom's marble columns. The party was still in full swing; the air was warm with laughter, music, and the gentle tinkling of glasses. His crimson eyes flicked across the floor — the sight made the corner of his lips curl.
McQueen, usually the picture of refined grace, was being tugged clumsily across the dance floor by Special Week, whose energy far outstripped her coordination. The two nearly stumbled into a waiter, McQueen's ears flattening in mild panic, but Week only laughed and kept spinning them around.
Not far away, Mischa was failing at pretending not to notice Mayano Top Gun's relentless puppy-dog eyes. The poor man sat stiff as a board, arms crossed, jaw clenched, as if refusing to acknowledge her plea to join the dancing couples. Gold Ship, ever the opportunist, had taken this moment of weakness to crouch beside him with a marker, drawing elaborate doodles across his bare abs.
A few steps away, Daiwa Scarlet and Vodka were clinking glasses with Adal in a contest of who could down more without sputtering. Rice Shower sat with arms crossed, lips puffed out into a pout as she muttered about how irresponsible her trainer was being, especially "in front of people."
Akuma exhaled, slow and deep, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he turned away. The chaos of that ballroom was its own kind of warmth, but he felt the tug of quiet. He slipped past the doors and into the cold embrace of the balcony.
The night stretched out before him — silver moonlight pouring over snow-covered fields. The Mejiro estate was endless, the grounds sprawling further than his eyes could follow, glittering like a frozen sea under the winter stars. He leaned against the stone railing, his voice low and flat as he muttered to himself.
"…The backyard alone is bigger than the entire Ishigawa Academy."
A soft chuckle answered him. "Correction, assistant."
Akuma turned slightly, catching the familiar figure stepping into the moonlight. Tachyon, draped in her labcoat even here, balanced two champagne flutes in her hands. Her smile was playful, her violet eyes mischievous as always.
"It's bigger than the entire district our academy is in," she finished, placing one of the glasses into his hand.
Akuma couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. "Touché."
They stood side by side in comfortable silence, watching the way moonlight carved silver spears across the vast white fields. The music from inside was muffled now, a distant echo. Out here, it was only the quiet crackle of frost and the rhythm of their own breaths.
With a sigh, Akuma tilted his head back slightly, his chuckle low and rueful. "You know… all those years I tried convincing you to join me, I never actually thought I'd succeed."
Tachyon swirled her glass, the golden liquid catching the moonlight. "Then you better thank those new 'family' of yours."
Akuma glanced at her, but she wasn't teasing — not fully. Her knowing smile lingered as she added, "I've seen the way you look at them, assistant. Those aren't just trainees to you. Then again, anyone you like isn't just anyone anymore."
For a moment, his chest softened, something warm sparking beneath the usual iron resolve. He nodded once, firmly. "…You're right."
"I always am," she quipped, smirking over the rim of her glass.
The silence that followed wasn't heavy, nor awkward. It was simply… there. A rare stillness where both allowed themselves to breathe. Akuma raised his glass, watching the moonlight ripple through it before whispering — his voice lower, almost caught by the wind.
"…I really am glad you took this second chance." He sipped, then slowly swirled the champagne, eyes locked on the white plains below. "It had always been my biggest regret… letting them let you go without even fighting for you. I'm happy I got to do something this time."
Tachyon froze. For a fleeting second, her chest ached, her pulse quickened — but then, true to herself, she broke the heaviness with a laugh.
She tilted her head, her violet eyes glittering. "Then prepare yourself… to be my guinea pig, T~R~A~I~N~E~R~~."
She stretched the words in that exaggerated, teasing way only she could, before raising her glass toward his.
Akuma huffed out a laugh through his nose. "That's what I'm here for."
The crystal clinked between them, sharp and bright, before Tachyon leaned lightly against the railing, smirk playing at her lips.
"Good," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "Because I intend to run again. And I'll do every experiment I need, every test I can, until I do."
Akuma's grin was soft this time, not sharp — not mocking, not hardened. Just soft. "Then I'll keep catching you whenever you stumble."
The balcony doors creaked open again, letting in a gust of cold air-conditioned air. Both Akuma and Tachyon turned their heads at the sound of heels crunching lightly against the frosted stone.
There she was.
Symboli Rudolf — regal even outside the ballroom, draped in her military-green attire with golden accents that glittered under the moonlight. Her long hair swayed behind her as she wrapped her arms around herself, shoulders hunching ever so slightly against the cold.
"Hah…" she sighed theatrically, before flashing a small grin. "It's freezing out here… no wonder, I should've known better than to stable myself on a balcony."
Akuma groaned instantly, dragging a hand down his face. "…You've gotten worse."
Beside him, Tachyon blinked twice, her manic gleam completely replaced by a flat stare. "…I feel like I just lost brain cells."
Rudolf only laughed warmly, her chuckles carrying in the night air. "Good to see you too, Akuma. Nice to know you haven't changed."
Akuma raised a brow, his sigh half exasperated, half amused. "Neither have you, apparently."
Then Rudolf turned her gaze toward him fully, her smile softening. "Aw come on now, Akuma-kun."
The title hit him like a slap. His ears twitched, his shoulders stiffened, but he couldn't exactly fight her on it. She was older, his senior both in racing and in the bond they shared. He clicked his tongue, turning his eyes back to the snowy fields, though his faint bristle betrayed him.
Rudolf chuckled knowingly. "Still the same." Her tone turned softer, more wistful, as she looked at both him and Tachyon. "It really is… good to see you both again. It's been a long time."
For a moment, even Tachyon snapped out of her deadpan haze, her lips tugging upward into her manic grin again. She tilted her head, eyes glittering with her usual chaotic glee.
"Ah yes, the last time we met was before I left. When I tried to make you drink one of my potions, wasn't it?"
Rudolf tilted her head, her grin widening slyly. "Indeed. And I still remember refusing. Because I never drink…" She paused, letting the suspense drag. "…unless it's something that can stirrup my spirits."
There was silence.
Akuma groaned again, muttering something about "why do I even bother," but Tachyon?
Tachyon just froze, her grin cracking like glass. Her eye twitched. Slowly, she sank down a little against the railing, her manic gleam utterly shattered. "…I can feel my IQ dropping."
Rudolf laughed, rich and hearty, clearly enjoying every second of their torment.
Then, as her chuckles died down, her gaze softened again — but this time, her eyes drifted past them, back toward the warm glow of the ballroom.
There, just inside the glass doors, stood Lucien. He wasn't smiling, but his gaze was fixed steadily on her, sharp and unwavering.
For a moment, Rudolf held that gaze — the regal commander and the calculating rival, staring at one another across the veil of glass and snow. Something unspoken passed between them, before she let out a quiet sigh.
"Well…" She turned back to Akuma and Tachyon, her voice gentle now. "I should leave you two to your peace. The night is young, after all. I do hope we'll meet again — on the tracks, but that's just on track for you guys."
Akuma gave a slow nod, still recovering from her verbal assault, while Tachyon just groaned softly, clutching her head as if Rudolf's puns had done more damage than any experiment could.
With one last smile, Symboli Rudolf stepped back toward the ballroom, her cape brushing the frosted stone, her silhouette melting back into the light.
And as the door closed behind her, the balcony was quiet once more — save for Akuma's mutter, "…I really didn't miss that part of her."
Tachyon could only groan in agreement.