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Her daughter was twentytwo years old when she played her first solo gig. Araya had been fretting over the coming day for some time, practicing incessantly for weeks, essentially started living and eating in the studio. Ryoushuu had tried to visit, and while her daughter had been appreciative, it had done little to calm Araya's mounting nerves.
Still the day had arrived all the same. Ryoushuu had taken the day off work, she was one of the most senior staff, but seeing as there were no planned excursions today, nor any recent incidents requiring higher readiness levels, her employer had no problem approving one day's absence.
She was in her bedroom, picking out an appropriate outfit, ultimately she picked out a white shirt, a sleek black suit, a pair of pants complementing the black suit and lastly a pair of shaded sunglasses. No matter the outcome, which could be nothing but a success, for she knew how hard working and stubborn her daughter was, no one would be able to say that Araya's mother dressed down for the occasion.
Ryoushuu exited the bedroom and made way to the front door, anticipating the arrival of her daughter from her own readiness session. Moments later she arrived, her hair was brushed intensely from top to bottom, the natural highlights visible and shining, she had begun to grow it out, rather than keeping it short like she had during school. In a way starting to resemble how her mother wore her hair, the thought stirred something agonising in Ryoushuu, but only momentarily. Araya wore a plain shirt under a knee length cardigan, complete with her signature long coat and wide brimmed pants.
Araya's eyes however, bore witness to the previous day's stress. Her eyes were still irritated from going over sheets of notes, and the relative lack of sleep accompanying it. It tugged at Ryoushuu's heart, music had always been her daughter's passion, the thing most closely entwined with her joy, life and relationships. Seeing it bring her this intense misery, even if only temporary, almost made Ryoushuu swear off the concept altogether.
Her thoughts must have been visible on her countenance because Araya immediately rebuffed her.
“Mom, I know I look a bit tired, but I swear it's fine.” Her daughter managed a smile between sheepish and tired.
Ryoushuu just grunted.
“Are you sure you're fine? I have not seen you this exhausted since the exit tests.” She tried to sound as unbothered as possible, she did not want her daughter to feel hovered over at a moment such as this, but her heart did not allow her to completely refuse to inquire.
"Of course mom, Danil says that periods of intense turmoil is just the price to pay for good art. And…” Araya went silent for a few seconds. “... And this is probably the closest I have felt to being a real artist my whole life.”
Ryoushuu shook her head.
“Well, Danil is a masochist and a perfectionist of a MF, and frankly, soon to be less successful than you with thirty years more time. If I were you I would not put too much stock in his advice.”
Ryoushuu took a step forward and laid a hand on her daughter's shoulder.
“You have been playing in a band since you were a teenager, for paying audiences no less, in competitions and concerts, however small you may think they were. If that is not an artist, a musician, IDNKWI.”
Despite Araya's attempt to not fall for her mothers flattery by rolling her eyes, a small smile still peeked out from under her cheeks.
“Lucky for Danil, he has taught me most of all I know, so he must have been doing something right…” she sighs “... but you know what I mean, doing my own show, by myself, not part of a group… It's a big deal.”
She then looked pointedly at Ryoushuu.
“Oooo, but my mother claims a mere paying audience is enough to make one an artist, truly the world must be ending, so maybe it doesn't really matter in the end!”
Ryoushuu drew back and shrugged, realising that both denial or affirmation would make her a hypocrite. Araya waited for her mother to retort, but when she did not, her smile widened and her posture relaxed into familiar contentment.
“You know mom, a lot of people would be surprised that the badass fixer bodyguard of P corps best and brightest is in fact, a big sop.”
Ryoushuu raised her eyebrows, “Are you saying I am not badass?”
The daughter simply let out a light laugh, the sound was like clear rushing water to her mothers ears, Araya then stepped forward and embraced Ryoushuu in a right hug.
Then, a strange foreign sensation stirred within Ryoushuu, which was odd, for they hugged often. This sensation remained and grew from moment to moment, it was a sensation like grief, only more ephemeral and mixed in with something else. When Araya broke the hug, it quickly dissipated.
Momentarily shaken, Ryoushuu blinked around the room and then towards her daughter's face. There was something there, a strange expression of a kind Ryoushuu could not place.
Araya slung the case over her shoulders and both exited their home in district 16. The pair walked northwards, along the street, a helpful quirk of the nest they for now called home was that its singularity allowed for impossibly dense urbanisation, as such, most things were either within walking distance or a short tram away.
As they walked Araya glanced over to her mother. “You will stand out amongst the audience you know.”
Her mother slowed down to do a one over on herself, then glanced back at Araya. “Good or bad?”
“hmmm” she shrugged. "At least your presence will not go unnoticed, severe corporate is not really the crowd's usual style.”
“Well, if anyone complains, I'll make sure to STS.”
“Yes, because the thing all musicians want is their parent making a scene at their solo debut.” Araya rolled her eyes for the second time that day.
Ryoushuu just growled. “Lets hope no one gets the idea to behave like a MF then.”
Araya lightly bumped her shoulder with Ryoushuu, the gesture signaling peace and affection.
After a short walk the pair arrived at the building, it was a modest hall, whose owner consistently rented it out for various functions. Ryohsu had offered her daughter more high quality options, considering the means at her disposal. Araya had rejected it all however, saying stuff about how she wanted it to be as authentic as possible, and having her mother just rent some luxurious performance hall would make her feel like a fraud. A compromise had been reached, where Ryoushuu forwarded a small sum of ahn to aid her daughter, while the bulk of it came from Araya's own pockets.
It was a reasoning Ryohsu respected, but standing here she wished Araya had not been so insistent. Sure, it was better than the most run down theater or abnormally large basement, but not by much.
Above the entrance a sign read “Sala de cobre”, meaning “copper hall” in one of the City's common languages, and the one most prominent in the nest of district 16, a language that for the last few years Ryoushuu have had to learn by necessity. Despite the name, the copper that once had adorned the building had long oxidized, giving the whole thing a green palette. She guessed it gave off a pretty retro feel, which Araya had no doubt appreciated when picking it out. It was also one of the few buildings in the nest she had seen that was a single storey high, lacking the highrise that extended from the base of every construction within P corps domain. Maybe that was the draw of the place, that it did not conform to the rest of the district's overwhelming sense of hugeness, she had not inquired how much it had cost to rent, but she was starting to suspect that maybe it was more pricey than it first appeared, precisely for such a reason.
As Araya turned towards her, the front doors burst open, out came Araya's bandmates. Ryoushuu had learned their names, Akachi, Sara, Fuli and Gustave. Sara lunged at Arya, followed by the rest of the friends who encapsulated her daughter in a tight circle of embrace.
Surprisingly, Araya had not been expecting this, Ryoushuu could see confusion in her eyes, even if it mixed with affection.
Akechi was the first to speak clearly, “You knew we would be here, but we thought that maybe… you know… you could need some extra hype before the show starts, so we have…”
He was interrupted by Sara who with unbridled excitement exclaimed “We have pizza! And some of those sweets you like, and beer if you need!” realizing it sounded like they may have planned to get Araya drunk, Sara quickly shaked her head and put her hands. “Just to take the edge off a bit, or to enjoy the pizza with, we got some soda too!”
The circle slowly defanged itself from its victim, Araya taking a deep exhale, her eyes were glassy. Ryoushuu rarely smiled, but seeing the scene unfold she could feel her usual frown disentangle itself just slightly.
It was then that the group all turned towards Ryoushuu, having completely missed her presence in the hurry.
“O, miss Ryoushuu, we didn't know you would arrive with Araya, of course you are welcome to also join.” It was Gustave who had taken to invite her.
While the suggestion was sweet, it sounded unbearably embarrassing to Ryoushuu's ear, she would not insist on invading Araya time with her friends just before such a big moment. If not for Araya's dignity, then for her own. So she put up her hands and indicated to Araya that she was ready to depart.
Her daughter nodded and with a somewhat apologetic expression led the group around the building, presumably to whatever rooms they had prepared the equipment and pizzas in.
Ryoushuu continued through the main entrance, inside was a small reception area manned by a single individual, a slightly larger man, who would probably serve as both bouncer and greeter to today's event. She simply drifted past, the man already aware who she was.
The main hall was rustic, she could see why Araya had preferred this place. Ryoushuu took a seat, not in the front row, but in the middle, not smotheringly close, but visible enough so that her daughter could easily find her if she wanted. She knew that her daughter was rapidly moving beyond the need for her to hold close after every little challenge, but it did not mean she would not take every opportunity to bring Araya comfort. Once again the thought of separating from her daughter, to ultimately let her go opened a chasm inside her, filled with feelings both frightening and alien. Instead of ruminating she took out her pad to distract herself until Araya would begin.
Slowly but steadily the seats filled with people, from being the first one inside, to being one of the crowd Ryoshy felt a bit put upon, she had never made good with crowds, still, it was bearable. It became significantly easier once she saw some of Araya's bandmates arrive from a side entrance, Akachi slightly waved at her and all of them seemed in high spirits, that was good.
At last Araya entered the stage, her guitar slung over her shoulder. She made way to the mic at the center of the stage, introduced herself, her songs, and began to play. Ryoushuu's heart swelled with pride as the notes and voice of her daughter reverberated throughout the hall. Occasional cheers, whispers and exclamations could be heard scattered in the air. Araya looked confident throughout all of it, her last weeks of hell seemingly washed away in the sublime act of performance and expression.
A sense of calm and peace descended on Ryoushuu, the certainty that all was right in the world and thus she closed her eyes to immerse herself in her daughter's art…
Her consciousness sprang to life in a puddle of gore and exhaustion. The end of the mirror dungeon was behind them.
“Great job guys, that went really well, we only had two fatalities this time around!”
The ticking, which only the sinners could hear as words, rang throughout the group. Ishmael grumbled, being the only other person in the day's party to expire. Still, the struggle was over and the sinners made ready to shake off any lingering aftereffects of the identities.
To that end Ryoushuu did not have to do much, since her return to the House of Spiders, her sense of self and state of mind had reached a level of serenity never before seen. She chalked it up to the destruction of the Nursefathers, but there was the everpresent feeling that the cause was something much more distinct.
She clutched her scabbard, changed since her return, a piece of equipment she held close. Somehow, whatever was the cause of her newfound, almost supernatural tranquility, it had something to do with it. One time she had almost asked Dante and the others, but she got the distinct sense that there were things they did not know how to broach, maybe things taken by Arayashiki in her struggle against her parents, it had only been a few days after all.
As the party made their way back to Mephistopheles she continuously clutched the scabbard, as if asking it what it hid, beneath her now dreamless sleeps.