[POV: Noa Yukimura - The Summoner]
[Location: Royal Guest Quarters - The Rose Suite]
To Noa Yukimura, the concept of a "Ball Gown" was structurally unsound.
It was too much fabric. Too much volume. It defied the laws of ergonomics. If she had to paint it, she would have used a chaotic, messy brushstroke to represent the sheer overwhelming frilliness of the room.
"It's heavy," Noa complained, lifting the hem of a midnight-blue dress that weighed more than her backpack. "And it has wires in it. Why does clothing require structural reinforcements? Am I a building?"
"You are a canvas," Sayaka Minori corrected, adjusting her own glasses. The Sorceress was currently standing on a podium while two seamstresses fussed over the hem of a sleek, silver gown that looked like liquid mercury. "And tonight, the art style is 'High Fantasy Royalcore.' Please adhere to the aesthetic, Noa."
"I have a hoodie," Noa argued, pointing to her beloved, paint-stained oversized sweatshirt lying on the chair. "It's comfortable. It has a pouch for snacks. It is superior."
"Noa," Yui Kanzaki popped her head out from behind a changing screen. She was currently wearing a puffy pink dress that made her look like a sentient cupcake. "We can't wear hoodies! The Princess invited us! We have to look like... sparkles!"
Yui twirled. The dress spun. She looked dizzy but happy.
"Sparkles are unnecessary," Noa grumbled, sitting down on a velvet stool and crossing her arms. "I summon paint dogs. I don't need to look like a princess. I need to look like I haven't slept in three days, which is accurate."
The room was a storm of silk, satin, and lace. The Royal Tailors had turned the girls' suite into a war room of fashion. Mannequins stood like silent soldiers, draped in colors that cost more than Noa's entire tuition.
Sayaka stepped down from her podium, the silver fabric flowing around her like water. She walked over to Noa, her expression serious.
"Noa," Sayaka said, pushing her glasses up. "We spent the last month covered in mud, goblin blood, and sweat. We slept on stone floors. We ate bricks."
"Hardtack," Noa corrected.
"Bricks," Sayaka insisted. "Tonight isn't just a party. It's a mask. For one night, we aren't the terrified kids who got kidnapped to another world. We get to be the 'Heroes' they think we are. We get to be... pretty. Don't you want to feel pretty for just a few hours?"
Noa looked at the blue dress. She looked at her dirty fingernails. She looked at Yui, who was trying to braid her own hair and failing.
"Fine," Noa sighed, defeated by logic. "But if I trip, I'm summoning a slime to cushion my fall."
"Acceptable," Sayaka smiled.
Suddenly, the door to the connecting room burst open.
"Emergency!" Mei Tachibana shrieked. "Wardrobe malfunction! Code Red!"
Mei stumbled into the room. She was wearing a gorgeous, strapless emerald green gown. It was elegant. It was sophisticated.
It was also sliding down her torso.
Mei was clutching the bodice to her chest with both hands, her face bright red.
"It doesn't stay up!" Mei wailed. "I put it on, I exhaled, and gravity took over! Why is there so much extra room in the chest area?! Is this an insult? The Royal Tailor is mocking my stats!"
"It is not an insult," Hanae—who was sitting in the corner nervously sewing extra buttons onto her own modest brown dress—piped up. "It is a volume miscalculation. The dress assumes a standard 'Heroine' physique. You possess a more... aerodynamic build."
"Aerodynamic?!" Mei cried. "I'm a surfboard! I can't wear this! If I sneeze, I'll flash the King!"
Noa snorted. It was the first time she had genuinely laughed all day.
"Here," Yui hopped over, her pink dress bouncing. "We can pin it! Or use a sash!"
"I need tape," Mei panicked. "Does this world have duct tape?"
"I have a better idea," Sayaka said, examining the dress. "Shoulder straps. We can repurpose the ribbon from the waist."
"Do it," Mei begged. "Please. Before I die of exposure."
While Sayaka and Yui went into emergency engineering mode on Mei's dress, Noa finally stood up and walked to the midnight-blue gown.
She touched the fabric. It was cool and smooth.
"Midnight Blue," she whispered. "Hex code #191970."
She slipped into it. The seamstress zipped it up. It was tight, compressing her ribs, but it forced her to stand up straight. The skirt flared out, shimmering under the mana lamps. It didn't have frills. It was dark, mysterious, and surprisingly... her.
She looked in the mirror.
The girl staring back didn't look like the weird art kid who sat in the back of the class drawing doodles. She looked like a Summoner. A dark mage.
"Not bad," Noa muttered, putting her headphones around her neck. They clashed horribly with the dress. She left them there anyway.
"Fifteen minutes!" a Royal Attendant called out from the hallway. "The Royal Procession begins in fifteen minutes!"
"Panic!" Hanae squeaked, dropping her needle.
"Focus!" Sayaka commanded. "Mei, spin."
Mei spun. The green dress held. The new straps worked perfectly.
"Oh thank god," Mei breathed, checking herself in the mirror. "I look... human. I actually look like a girl."
"You look like a Lancer," Noa said. "Sharp."
"Okay," Yui clapped her hands. "Shoes! Everyone put on the torture devices!"
They slipped into their heels—glass, leather, satin. Noa chose a pair of thick-soled black boots that were hidden under her dress. There was no way she was wearing stilettos.
"Ready?" Sayaka asked, smoothing her silver hair.
"Ready as we'll ever be," Mei took a deep breath.
"Let's go steal the show," Yui grinned.
They walked out of the suite, a formation of silk and nerves, heading toward the light.
[Location: The Grand Ballroom]
The Ballroom wasn't a room. It was a biosphere of gold.
The ceiling was so high that small clouds of magical mist drifted near the chandeliers, which were made of thousands of glowing crystals. The floor was polished marble, reflecting the light like a frozen lake.
On the far wall, raised high above the dance floor, was the Royal Dais. Four golden thrones sat there, overlooking the room like gods on Mount Olympus.
The King and Queen were already seated, looking regal and bored. Prince Valerius sat on the right, reading a small scroll he had hidden in his lap. Princess Elara sat on the left, looking at the empty entrance with anticipation.
The music was live—a string quartet played by floating, enchanted instruments that bowed themselves.
"Whoa," Mei whispered as they stood at the top of the grand staircase. "It's... a lot."
"It's over-saturated," Noa critiqued, shielding her eyes. "Too much gold. Needs more contrast."
"It's beautiful," Yui sighed dreamily.
They descended the stairs. Heads turned. Nobles in velvet and jewels paused their conversations to look at the "Heroines."
Sayaka led the way in silver, looking like an ice queen.
Mei followed in green, looking vibrant and relieved that her dress was staying up.
Yui bounced in pink, waving at random people.
Hanae walked in brown, looking like she was expecting the stairs to collapse.
And Noa brought up the rear in midnight blue, headphones around her neck, looking like she wandered into the wrong movie.
They reached the floor level and scanned the crowd.
"Target acquired," Sayaka pointed. "Three o'clock. By the buffet table."
The boys were huddled together near a massive ice sculpture of a dragon.
"Oh my god," Mei covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. "Look at Toru."
Toru Makabe was visible from space. His orange suit was vibrating in the candlelight. He was gesturing wildly to Hinata, who looked like a mossy rock in his dark green suit.
Riku was adjusting his glasses, looking sharp in navy. Reiji looked like a classic Prince Charming in white and gold. Daigo was massive in crimson velvet.
And there, leaning against a pillar in the back, was a figure in black.
Noa paused.
Sora.
He wasn't wearing a fancy suit. He was wearing a simple black shirt and vest. It looked cheap compared to the silk around him. But...
Composition, Noa thought. The absence of color draws the eye.
While Toru looked like a clown and Daigo looked uncomfortable, Sora looked... natural. He blended into the shadows of the pillar, holding a glass of water like it was a prop. He looked tired, hollowed out, but undeniably present.
"Hey, guys!" Yui waved, skipping over to them.
The boys turned around. Their jaws collectively dropped.
"Whoa," Toru whispered, nearly dropping his skewer of meat. "We are... severely outclassed."
"You look amazing," Reiji said, stepping forward and bowing politely to the group. "The dresses... wow."
"Thanks," Sayaka smiled, a rare genuine expression. "You clean up well yourself, Reiji. White suits you."
"Toru," Mei poked his orange lapel. "You look like a traffic cone."
"A sexy traffic cone," Toru corrected, striking a pose. "And you, Mei... you look like you have actual volume. Magic?"
"Engineering," Mei winked. "Don't ask."
Daigo walked over to Noa. The giant Vanguard looked down at the small Summoner.
"Nice headphones," Daigo grinned. "Formal wear?"
"They're noise-canceling," Noa said, touching them. "In case the music sucks."
"It's classical," Daigo groaned. "It definitely sucks."
Noa looked past Daigo. She looked at Sora.
Sora was watching them, a faint, crooked smile on his face. He didn't step forward.
Noa walked over to him. The midnight blue dress swished around her boots.
"You're late," Noa said.
Sora blinked. "I'm on time. The party just started."
"You were late to the reunion," Noa corrected. She looked at his clothes. "Nice vest. Waiter chic?"
"Budget chic," Sora shrugged. "It has pockets. Look." He demonstrated by putting his hands in them. "And I didn't have to fight a tailor for it."
Noa studied his face. The bruise on his cheek was fading thanks to Ayaka's magic, but the eyes were still the same. The eyes of someone who had seen the bottom of the pit.
"It suits you," Noa said quietly. "Black. It's your color."
Sora looked surprised. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Thanks. You look... good, Noa. The blue works. Though the headphones are a choice."
"They're my armor," Noa said.
"Fair enough," Sora nodded. "We all need armor."
"Hey! Lovebirds!" Toru yelled. "They're bringing out the food! Actual roast beast! Let's go!"
Sora rolled his eyes. "I'm only here for the food. Coming."
As they moved toward the table, the atmosphere in the room began to shift.
The heavy oak doors opened again, and this time, it wasn't students.
It was the Court.
Hundreds of nobles poured in. Dukes with monocles, Duchesses with fans, Knights in ceremonial armor. The room filled up rapidly, the noise level rising from a murmur to a roar.
"So many people," Hanae whispered, shrinking behind Daigo. "The population density is exceeding safety protocols."
"Just stay close," Daigo said, patting his shield-arm (which currently had no shield).
The nobles began to circle the students. They didn't approach directly yet, but they stared. They whispered behind fans.
"That's them? The children?"
"The Vanguard looks like an ogre."
"Is that the Hero? The one in white?"
"Who is the one in orange? A jester?"
"And the one in black... is he a servant?"
Noa felt the eyes. It felt like ants crawling on her skin. She reached up and touched her headphones.
"I hate this," Noa whispered to Sora.
"Just focus on the food," Sora whispered back, his voice low and grounding. "Eat the expensive cheese. Make them pay for staring."
"Attention!" The Royal Herald banged a staff on the floor.
"His Majesty, King Alaric! Her Majesty, Queen Valerica! His Highness, Prince Valerius! And Her Highness, Princess Elara!"
The room went silent. The Royal Family stood up on the dais.
Princess Elara stepped forward to the railing. She looked down at the sea of faces, her eyes searching until she found the group of colorful, terrified teenagers near the ice dragon.
She smiled.
"Welcome, Heroes," she said, her voice amplified by magic. "Tonight, Altherion celebrates you."
The crowd erupted in applause. It was loud. It was overwhelming.
Noa shrank into her dress. Beside her, Sora stood still, his hands in his pockets, watching the Royals with a cold, analytical gaze.
The party had begun. But to Noa, looking at the hungry eyes of the nobles and the blinding smiles of the Royals, it didn't feel like a celebration.
It felt like they were being put on display.
Like animals in a zoo.
Or sacrifices on an altar.