Complaints and sounds of regret echoed. But then, from behind the black curtain, a completely new melody began to play. It was no longer the somber "Moonlight Sonata," but a dramatic, powerful, bloodthirsty piece – a vampiric rendition of Bach's "Toccata and Fugue in D minor."
Yumi and the other girls pressed their eyes to the crack, curious about what was happening behind that black curtain.
The music surged forth, relentless, like hurried footsteps in the dark night, like the beat of a heart thirsting for blood. The melody rose and fell, sometimes gentle like a seductive whisper, sometimes screaming like the fury of a queen of the night.
The music built to a crescendo, then abruptly stopped on a piercing high note.
The black curtain was drawn up.
And everyone—Yumi, the Gyaru girls, and even the club members—stood frozen.
Before them was no longer the masculine Daiki.
It was a woman.
A stunningly beautiful woman, with long black hair reaching her waist, skin as white as jade under the silver light. Her eyes, lined with sharp black eyeliner beneath thick, curled false lashes, held an irresistible, bewitching charm. Lips as dark red as fresh blood curved into a smile full of allure, yet saturated with cruelty and arrogance.
Silence fell. Phones were still held up, but no one remembered to press the shutter button. The initial excitement was replaced by a breathtaking sense of awe.
Daiki—but no longer Daiki.
Before them sat a stunningly beautiful woman at the piano. Long black hair cascaded down her back, skin as white as snow under the silver spotlight. Her eyes, sharply defined with black liner, were accentuated by thick, sweeping false lashes. Lips, dark red like blood, curved into a charming yet deeply cruel smile.
The deep red vampire costume had been adjusted – fitting more snugly to her body, highlighting her sensual curves. The white collar was removed, revealing a proud, elegant neck. On her hands were long black gloves reaching to her elbows, adding an air of mystery and power.
Outside the window, a deathly silence, then an explosion of sound.
"OH MY GOD!"
"NO WAY!"
"DAIKI?! IS THAT DAIKI?!"
Shouts of astonishment rang out, completely taken by surprise by this dramatic transformation. Yumi stood transfixed, mouth agape, unable to believe her eyes.
On stage, "Luna" – the female vampire – smiled, her red eyes sweeping over the stunned Gyaru group outside the window. Then she turned back to the piano, her fingers striking the keys, continuing the piece.
The music now grew even more intense, fervent, like the transformation itself. Each note was like a declaration of power, of deadly beauty, of a charm that could make the world kneel.
She played with astounding proficiency, her body swaying gracefully with the rhythm. Sometimes she leaned forward, her black hair falling like a waterfall. Sometimes she threw her head back, eyes closed as if lost in an intoxication of music and blood.
But no, she wasn't just playing the piano.
On the large screen behind her, short clips played. It showed the male vampire in the ancient castle, gazing enraptured at his own reflection in the mirror. His eyes were full of worship, as if admiring a perfect work of art.
Then the scene shifted to the moment he transformed into a woman. And something strange happened: instead of horror or confusion, he – or now, she – felt an overwhelming excitement.
"Luna" on stage stood up and left the piano. She walked to a large mirror set up on the stage. Her voice rang out, like a mesmerizing soliloquy:
"I thought nothing could be more perfect than myself... until I saw myself."
She raised a hand, gently touching the mirror. Her eyes were filled with infatuation, not for anyone else, but for her own reflection.
"As a man, I was perfect. But as a woman..." She laughed, a deeply self-satisfied laugh, "I am perfection multiplied."
On the screen, the image of Luna in the castle began a strange dance. She danced alone, but not for any audience. She was performing for herself. Her graceful gestures, her enamored gaze, all were directed at her own image in the giant mirrors surrounding the castle.
Then she began to sing – a soprano voice, clear yet full of dark magic:
"I am the lover of myself
The paramour in every looking glass
I need no other to make my heart stir
For I myself am the cosmos entire"
She twirled, the deep red dress flaring out like a blood-soaked rose. Every movement was executed with perfect precision, as if she were trying to please an invisible audience – herself.
On the screen, the scene grew more haunting. Luna embraced herself, kissed the mirror, whispered words of love to her reflection. She needed no one else, wanted no one else. Her love for herself was enough to intoxicate her.
"Luna" on stage stopped, facing the audience. Her gaze seemed penetrating:
"You seek love in others
While I – I have found heaven within myself
My perfect half?
It is I, in another form!"
She laughed, a smile both arrogant and lonely. Then she returned to the piano, her fingers gliding over the keys one last time. The piece ended on a high note, echoing like the cry of a soul forever trapped in its own beauty.
As the lights gradually faded, "Luna" remained seated, eyes tightly closed, her face showing a fleeting expression of ultimate satisfaction – satisfied to admire herself, to love herself, and to be herself in her most perfect form.
Silence enveloped everyone. No one could utter a word. They had witnessed not just a transformation, but a story of self-love to the point of sickness, of a soul too beautiful to love anyone but itself.
And in that moment, Daiki was no longer Daiki, nor was he just Luna – he had become the embodiment of self-perfection, of a love that needs no other, of a beauty that could intoxicate even its own possessor.
Outside, the Gyaru group was completely captivated. Their initial mockery had vanished, replaced by admiration and astonishment. They no longer saw a boy crossplaying as a woman, but truly saw a powerful and dangerous female vampire.