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The Grand Imperial Visit had turned Den Haag into a theater.
Flags hung from marble balconies.
Drums echoed down cobblestone streets.
And at the center — beneath a sky too blue to trust — the golden train of the Kyokujitsu Empire rolled in with precision.
The Emperor of the Rising Sun.
His son — stoic.
His daughter — smiling like a doll carved from porcelain and secrets.
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But Selene didn't care.
She was at the gazebo.
Alone.
As always.
Until she wasn't.
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Thump.
A red umbrella.
Opened.
Even though the wooden roof blocked all light.
Princess Michiko — thirteen years old.
Face powdered.
Kimono perfect.
Shoes untouched by dirt.
And annoyingly humming.
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Selene stared forward.
Silent.
Still.
Michiko sat beside her.
Too close.
Still humming.
Louder.
Off-key.
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Selene's fingers twitched.
Michiko kicked her feet playfully under the bench.
Still holding the red umbrella like a shield against ghosts.
Then — the horror escalated.
She started singing.
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In a high, wobbly voice:
🎵 Nani mo yuzuranaide…Wakari aeru hito ga ireba tatakau koto dekirukara 🎵
Selene's eye twitched.
The Admiral never trained her for this.
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"Stop that," Selene said — the first time she'd spoken all day.
Michiko blinked.
Turned to her.
Grinned.
"Eh? You don't like anime songs?"
Selene stared at her.
Blank.
"What's... anime."
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Silence.
Then Michiko gasped.
Deeply.
Dramatically.
As if someone had just insulted her ancestors.
"You don't know anime!?"
Selene blinked.
"No."
"Is it a form of weapon?"
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Michiko nearly dropped her umbrella.
She grabbed Selene's hands — tiny, cold fingers wrapped in bright red silk.
"No, silly! It's... it's stories!"
"Big eyes! Emotions! Power of friendship!"
"And sometimes... ka-boom!"
She gestured wildly, nearly elbowing Selene in the face.
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Selene stared at her — not angry.
Just... lost.
"Why do they sing while fighting?"
"Because that's how feelings work!"
"But that's tactically dangerous."
"Exactly!"
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A pause.
Michiko calmed.
She leaned closer — still holding the red umbrella, casting her shadow onto Selene's lap.
"You know..."
"You scared me three years ago."
Selene turned.
"...I did?"
"You looked like a doll with dead eyes."
"You still do."
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Selene looked forward again.
"...thank you."
Michiko giggled.
"I like your weirdness."
And just like that — the humming returned.
Softer this time.
Calmer.
Less like a battle.
More like a lullaby.
Selene didn't say anything.
Didn't ask her to stop.
She just sat beside the strangest person she'd met since the Admiral.
And somehow...
The garden didn't feel as dead.
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