Until the Curtains Fall

A spotlight follows the trajectory of a spinning dagger, letting the blade shine with a silver hue. It cuts through the air until a hand grabs the knife’s handle in its fall.

    A smile on his face, tiny cats’ heads painted under his eyes, Edward raises his hand, angling his dagger behind his head. Wearing a crimson blouse and black-and-white striped overalls, a glint of excitement glistens in his eyes.

    Without further ado, he throws the dagger at full speed. The blade wheezes through the air. The public holds back their breath.

    A thud, followed by a tremor vibrating up the blade.

    Part of the spectators let out a sigh of relief as a mere strand of night blue hair falls to the ground. Her wrists and ankles clipped to a huge wheel, Fujiko is left unharmed. Unbothered during her sleep.

    But the show doesn’t stop there, and just like the circus’s music keeps playing, Edward keeps throwing daggers at Fujiko, the wheel beginning to rotate…

⋆༺♱༻⋆

“Not like this!”

    With a chuckle, Tatsuya pulls on the long obi wrapped around my waist, of a white-and-purple chequered pattern.

    A yelp.

    I’m sent spinning towards Tatsuma, the latter catching me and the edge of the unwound obi with a laugh echoing his brother’s.

    In seventeen years of life in this dumb world, I’ve already wished for many, stupid things. Such as being able to dive into a pool of mochis. Or running away from my house on a quest to find a kind family willing to adopt me. Granted, I was eight years old.

    But never, never had the thought crossed my mind I would one day be able to get what a yo-yo can feel.

    After fussing around me for a while, the twins take a few steps back to observe the work done. Hands on hips, they exchange a glance before nodding to me.

“That will do!”

“That’s not bad!” Tatsuma concludes.

    Hesitant, I glance at the overlong sleeves. A vermilion fabric with golden stitches… Somehow, I even ended up with a traditional haircut and a headdress adorned with multicoloured flowers.

“Why a kimono?”

    It’s my first time wearing a traditional outfit. Kinda odd it’s happening in a circus. Am I asleep? Is this all but a weird dream?

“Ready, Megumi Hoshimori?”

    As I hear the unmistakable sound of his annoying voice, I turn my eyes towards Poltergeist. Rubeus dressed in a grey-and-white traditional outfit, he takes a few steps closer.

“You…” I point an accusatory finger at them. “The hell is this about that stage performance I’m supposed to take part in? You never told me about such a thing.”

“Ahh, yeah. Next performance is gonna be Rubeus’, and you’re going with him.” Poltergeist casually says. “See? Told ya. Now you’re aware of it.”

“I’m going to commit a murder tonight.”

    Just as I am about to reply, a sudden bunch of applauses turns my attention to the stage.

“Seems Evren is done,” Poltergeist notes, “come on, the stage is awaiting you!”

    Rubeus takes my wrist, leading me to the stage.

“What? Wait, no!” I protest. “What am I even supposed to do?”

    The moment Rubeus turns around to face me, reaching out his left hand, I realise he’s not holding Poltergeist.

“You’ll just have to follow my lead.” Rubeus utters.

    Without further notice, he lifts me upon his arm with an easiness not matching his stature.

    In the process, I catch sight of the white rabbit left sitting on part of the decor, a curved tree branch carved into white-painted wood.

    Evren bypasses us with a smile, leaving behind him a scent of incense. Purple smoke hovering all over the stage.

“What in the world am I doing here?”

    Step by step, as if I weighed no more than a marionette, Rubeus approaches the public, the mist concealing his feet. He circles the edge of the stage as if to show me off. I don’t even dare to make a move nor a smile…

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the director’s voice echoes from the speakers, “tonight Rubeus and Megumi present you a performance inspired from bunraku.”

    The sound of a unique string echoes in turn, vibrating as Rubeus returns closer to the centre of the stage. His fingers briefly brush my back, and a vague stinging up my spine makes me frown.

“My boy… Bunraku?” I mutter under my breath.

“Mmm?” He replies in a tone too genuine for my own sanity, his voice equally unnoticeable for the spectators. “Does a Japanese girl know less about her culture than the humble French I am?”

“I didn’t know weebs were into the Edo period these days.” I correct.

    The only time I saw a performance of this kind of theatre with huge marionettes, it was in a Yawntube New Year program.

    Soon, other vibrations follow one by one, and I spot Fujiko sat in the distance, a shamisen on her lap.

    And then, I see it before I feel it. My arm outstretched before my eyes in a mechanical, yet too graceful move to be mine.

“What the…”

    From the purple mist, a huge sphere seems to ascend from the ground. Glowing yellow, as if supposed to portray the Sun.

    The notes of the shamisen grow more enthusiastic, keeping Fujiko from nodding off. My body moves without me putting any will into it, following the pace. From my trunk to the tip of my fingers, I begin to dance while sat on Rubeus’s arm. Pacing around the Sun, he matches the rhythm of my moves.

    The public, enthusiastic, already applauds. Curious, a quick glance to the side allows me to understand. From Rubeus’s fingers, bluish strings of light seem linked to the part of my body moving at the moment.

“‘You’ll just have to follow my lead,’ he said. The brat wasn’t joking.”

“What if they notice you’re using magic?” I ask as he leans back so he can give me the same impulse, my fingers brushing the air above us.

“They already noticed, but maybe not the same kind as you did.”

“Huhh?”

“We’re at the Clockwork Dolls Circus, it’s our task to blow magic in our public’s eyes.”

    Ah, of course. A circus may be the only place where magic has its place. A place where abnormality is what is expected. According to the eyes… What was once made a monster can become an artist.

    While my body dances around the light sphere, the latter’s glow begins to falter.

“You don’t keep using magic only to get rid of Jikininkis, right?” I note. “Why put so much effort into these shows?”

    A smile conceals his silent laugh.

“What did you expect? Magic is a part of us we’re not gonna deny. We’re all going on a patrol right after that, but until then, we remain artists who bring wonder to their faces.”

    Suddenly he stops, and I hop off his arm at his command, keeping dancing while Rubeus pulls on the bluish strings. But my moves become more erratic, following the moments the sphere loses its glow.

“Don’t forget, it will end up being too late. You too, little march hare, choose before you lose your mind even more. Whose smiles you do wish to see, whose you do wish to protect.”

    With a final shamisen’s note, the sphere loses its glow. The light strings in my back break one after the other. Unable to resist the pull, I fall to the ground like a disarticulated doll. I can’t even ask the question left on my mind.

“Because we like our magic…” Rubeus concludes in a whisper, “let’s make them smile until the curtains fall.”

“Whose smile do you wish to protect, Rubeus?”