Chapter Text
WONDERLANDS X SHOWTIME OFFICIAL GROUPCHAT
Rui | 12:15 pm
I’d like to test out an idea for a show. Could everyone come to SEKAI around 5 tomorrow to see it?
Rui | 12:21 pm
Also. It'd be my way of explaining things.
Nene | 12:22 pm
That's not ominous at all
But sure
Emu 🩷💖🎊🍬🌺 | 12:24 pm
Yeah! I'm excited to see it! 😁😁😁😁
Tsukasa ⭐️ | 12:25 pm
Of course!
~
Before the electric spotlight became more widespread in theaters, there was the limelight. Quicklime—or calcium oxide—was set alight, the flame being fed by hydrogen and oxygen. The lime would then glow incandescently, illuminating its subject in the fluorescent “limelight”.
The warmth of a spotlight is already somewhat uncomfortable, especially in costume. Rui wonders how it feels to be lit up via chemical reaction.
Standing on the SEKAI’s massive stage, Rui opens and closes her fists repeatedly, trying to shake off her nerves. She has one hour before the rest of Wonderlands X Showtime makes their way into the audience seats to watch her debut as, essentially, herself. One hour until she bears her heart to the world. She has faith everything will work out.
It’s been four and a half weeks since Rui made her wish. Three weeks since the rooftop revelation. One week since she talked to KAITO outside of Emu’s room, exhaling a sigh of relief at the prospect of finally grasping an idea of what to say to her friends. In the days since, she's told the VIRTUAL SINGERS her plan and rehearsed the show in its entirety.
It'd been easier than she’d initially thought to tell the VIRTUAL SINGERS who she was–a simple I’ve actually found out who I am, and I’d like you to know because you're important to me, once they were all gathered in one place. If only she could say that to her troupe mates without freezing up. She knows she’s not supposed to hold herself back, and yet…
The VIRTUAL SINGERS had been excited when Rui and KAITO had presented the idea: A spinoff of the original show–the first one, with the same characters, only a new story being told. Rui’s story.
“Rui! I found you!” sing-songs a voice from the tent opening, startling Rui out of her thoughts.
Miku bounds through the empty audience, coming up to the front of the stage. Rin and Len follow, ducking through the entrance and running down the aisle.
“Wait, she was here the whole time? I thought she left with KAITO after we finished rehearsal!” says Len, frowning.
Rui smiles. “I was just checking the lighting effect one more time, making sure the mirrors were in place. That sort of thing.”
“Rui, MEIKO said that KAITO said that he wants to talk to you,” Rin says, her hands grasping the edge of the stage. “And also that whoever found you first wins!”
“Oh my… wins what, exactly?” Asks Rui.
“She didn't say!” Rin says, face scrunched up in dissatisfaction. “But whatever it is, I guess Miku gets it since she found you first.”
“Ha-ha-ha! I won!” Miku crosses her arms over her chest, wearing a self-satisfied expression that looks eerily similar to one Tsukasa makes so often.
“I see. Oh, by the way–where is KAITO, if you don't mind me asking?” Rui asks, shifting the subject.
“He’s by the singing flower bed in the plaza!” Len supplies helpfully. “Rui, are you excited for the show? You'll have to put your costume on soon!”
Rui's heart beats a little faster, her stomach twisting. “I'm ready,” she says, somewhat avoidant. It's not a lie: she is ready. She's been ready for days. She knows what she's going to say and how to say it; that's the beauty of a script.
But audience reactions can only be predicted, not definitively declared. People are not robots. That's what makes life wonderful and interesting–along with it being occasionally terrifying.
Everything will be fine.
Rui runs her hand lightly over the audience seats on her way out of the tent. T-minus 54 minutes until she plays herself–plays the girl again.
Rui thinks she's going to be okay.
~
It’s quiet for a minute after Rui joins KAITO, the two of them standing next to the flowers. The sun is nearing the end of its arc through the sky, the lights of the rides not turned on quite yet. Rui listens carefully to see if she can detect any hint of electronic whirring from anywhere in the SEKAI. She's unsuccessful.
“Rui.” KAITO’s voice breaks her out of her train of thought. She turns toward him slightly.
“We’re all proud of you, you know that?” KAITO says. “All of this must've been incredibly hard on you. It's amazing you're doing your best to get through it.”
Ah.
What does she say to that? She's done nothing extraordinary, really–just cried and talked and plotted. Her usual course of action.
You've been brave, some part of Rui thinks quietly. That much is true, she can admit to herself.
I’ve never felt this comfortable with myself. It's been so difficult to try and get here. Perhaps she should give herself a little more credit.
“It's tiring,” she says finally. “I'm ready to be me, fully.”
KAITO nods thoughtfully, smiling. “You'll do great.”
Rui believes him. She’s got this. No need to be so nervous.
“Ru-ui,” calls MEIKO’s voice from the big top entrance. “Your costume’s ready!”
Rui grins, heart beating faster in anticipation of what's to come. No more hiding. She's around people that want her to express herself fully, now–she owes it to them to be the person she's meant to be, unapologetically.
~
“Once upon a time, there lived an alchemist who created extravagant shows,” Miku narrates from stage left.
The spotlight blinks on over Rui, and she doesn’t look out into the crowd to see if Tsukasa, Emu, and Nene are seated there. She doesn't think about the flame setting the lime alight. She bows elegantly, one hand out to the side, the other pressed to her chest. The drones and robots she's prepared scuttle and whir around her, the same way they did when she performed some of her guerilla gigs in Phoenix Wonderland.
The costume is warm. She’s borrowing the costume from KAITO’s original performance of the alchemist, the wide-brimmed, pointy hat providing some relief for her face from the spotlight.
Rui rights herself, listening to the applause of Rin and Len, playing townspeople. A few plushies join in, cheering softly.
“Despite the great attention his incredible shows garnered, he was still all alone, feared and misunderstood by the world around him.”
MEIKO suddenly appears next to Rin and Len, hands on their shoulders protectively. “What are you two doing? Don't you know that his gimmicks can get you hurt? Come on, let’s go,” she adds hurriedly, ushering them away. The plushies follow obediently, leaving Rui by herself.
“But one day, the alchemist found he wasn't alone anymore.”
KAITO, Rin, and Luka walk back on stage, smiling.
“That effect was incredible! You must perform with us–with your help, we might finally attract an audience!” KAITO says. The way VIRTUAL SINGERS imitate Tsukasa in the SEKAI is uncannily accurate. Another side effect of being made from his feelings, she supposes.
“I suppose I could lend a hand,” Rui says as the alchemist. It's hard not to smile as she remembers how this play’s original performance had made her feel so long ago, but she keeps her air of cool indifference.
“Welcome, alchemist! We’ll have lots of fun in this troupe!” Rin says excitedly.
“Their new troupe consisted of an egotistical leader, a headstrong clown, and a songstress that couldn't bring herself to sing in front of audiences.”
“Ha-ha-ha!” KAITO laughs, the sounds punctuating the air loudly. It's another chilling imitation of Tsukasa’s laugh. “Today, we go on to explore new heights of fame never achieved before!”
“Yeah! Let's go!” Rin shouts excitedly. “Alchemist, alchemist! What do you have for us today?”
Rui produces a small doll from behind her back. “For you, songstress,” she calls to Luka. “This doll is for you to sing through, until you're ready for an audience.
“For you, clown,” Rui says, turning to Rin. “These balloon animals will delight the people who see us and bring smiles to all.
“And for our leader,” she says, facing KAITO. “A list of the wonderful roles you will play and the effects that will accompany them.”
“Thank you!” The rest of the troupe says in unison. Rui grins.
“Together, they performed dazzling shows that captivated their audiences far and wide, spreading joy all over the world.”
Together, the four friends take a bow.
“There was something bothering the alchemist, though.”
“Alchemist, alchemist! Can you give me advice on this role?” Rin asks excitedly. “She's so energetic, but I'm not sure how to make that come across fully…”
“Certainly,” says Rui, approaching Rin. She feels small under the lights and the feel of her costume and the weight of the knowledge that she is doing something permanent and irreversible. “If I played this girl, I would…”
She raises her arms and mimes a few gestures she remembers from the day everything turned upside down before the curtains close. Rin, Luka, and KAITO applaud before scrambling into the wings. Rui is alone when the curtains lift again.
“Everything up until then had been fine for the alchemist. But this– this was different. He felt strange, different, somehow, after deciding to step into role of a girl.”
“I think I want to play her again,” Rui says softly to no one, eyes downcast. She can't bring herself to look at the audience yet, but she knows they'll hear. It's as exciting as it is scary.
“This new realization weighed on the alchemist heavily. He lost sleep, became more withdrawn, and made mistakes at performances.”
KAITO, Rin, and Luka are back on stage now, distance between them and Rui. It’s silent in the big tent, and her heart thumps loudly in her chest.
“My apologies,” says Rui. She means it.
“Alchemist, you're not well! Let us help!” KAITO pleads. “We’re friends– let’s face this together!”
“We want you to be happy,” Luka says. “Please let us help you.”
“No matter what, we'll stand by you!” Rin says meaningfully.
Rui says nothing, mouth pressed into a firm line and hands clenched at her sides. Maybe a few dramatic liberties have been taken with the plot of this play, but it’ll get the point across to its audience—it's representative of her soul. Imperfect and full of so much love.
“I'll fix it,” she says finally. The curtains drop again and she hears Miku narrating from the other side to audience members she still can't look in the eye.
Quickly, she helps KAITO with a bench prop. They set it down quietly, Rui assuming her position in the center. She remembers this part all too well. As KAITO backs into the wings, he shoots a smile of encouragement at Rui. She smiles back.
“The issue that the alchemist was trying to fix was hard for him to pin down. He was afraid of what it might mean for him and his friends.”
The curtains lift again and the bench is on stage, Rui already seated. MEIKO and two plushies come out of the wings to sit with Rui, and she braces herself.
“The alchemist sought help from the world of helpful fairies to see what the issue might be, still hiding from something.”
“Alchemist,” MEIKO says, her smile familiar. “Is there a chance you're bothered because this goes beyond just shows?”
It's not difficult for Rui to mimic the same wide-eyed expression from before, not difficult to conjure the fear and—looking back at it now—breathless excitement at the proposition of finding herself.
“I saw…” she swallows. “I saw the clown playing that role, the girl.” Saying it again is easier this time, despite the people watching. Rui inhales deeply. “And I thought, I didn't want to just play her. I wished that I could be her.”
MEIKO embraces her tightly. “Do you know what you have to do?”
Rui nods. She stands assuredly, still not looking at the sea of chairs in front of her. MEIKO and the plushies accompanying her leave for the wings again.
“The alchemist went to meet with an old friend who could offer insight on the issue, knowing they couldn't continue like this any longer.”
In the big top there's a back room full of props and costumes and sets for the stage. Rui thinks they manifest based on Tsukasa’s whims and hopes, what he thinks—perhaps feels is the better term—is necessary for the shows they put on.
There was a two-dimensional wishing well cutout in the room when Rui came to look for what she needed. She'd wondered vaguely if it was another one of those things that SEKAI did. The atmosphere. The plushies. The music.
Rui decided to take its presence as a promising sign.
The old, worn bunny plushie floats by the edge of the well. Rui’s contraption rests behind the cutout, waiting to be used. She swears the air is charged with something, although she can't quite pin it down.
“Hi there, Alchemist,” the bunny says sweetly.
“Hello, old friend,” Rui replies. There's a brief beat of silence where static fills her brain instead of her next lines.
Perhaps it's better to speak from the heart here anyways.
“I'm afraid of who I might be,” Rui says earnestly. “I have suffered for being different for so much of my life, and I’m somewhat terrified that this— this me, I'm becoming, will be the final straw for the rest of my only friends.”
“Alchemist…”
“I want to believe they'll still be my friends after I tell them that I…” she crosses her arms. None of this is coming out right.
“Nothing could make them stop being your friends,” the bunny plushie says kindly. “Especially not being your true self.”
She knows. God, she knows, and she’s so tired.
“There's this person I want to be,” Rui says, looking at the flat image of a well instead of her friends. “An alchemist exactly the same as I am, same interests, same friends. But that person is also different, in a way. Because she happens to be a girl.”
“Rui,” the bunny says, and it’s hard to miss the deliberate usage of her name. “Your friends love you because you're you. This won't drive them away.”
“Because I'm me…” Rui echoes. Everything is almost too much to bear at the moment. “And…I'm a girl.”
It's hard to tell, but Rui thinks the plushie smiles wider. “Do you have a wish to make?”
“I wish,” Rui begins softly, smiling despite everything. “That my dearest friends will see me for who I am truly, and still choose to love me for it.”
The device turns on thanks to another helpful plushie (perhaps they should be compensated in some way for this), and the world explodes with color. Over a hundred tiny beams of multicolored light scatter throughout the big tent, hitting strategically placed mirrors again and again to make the room glow with a dazzling light show.
This does look quite nice, Rui thinks distantly. The mirrors definitely help to further the effect. It would be nice to stay here for a while, just observing the rays as they refract and reflect and illuminate the world.
She can't.
It’s time for the final part. The device switches off, the effect finished. The spotlights are off, the big lights on, and suddenly the audience is not as obscured by the dark, and she can see the faces of her friends staring at her from their seats.
Be brave.
“The show doesn't have an ending yet,” Rui says, holding the sleeves of her costume tightly. She's trying to be nonchalant about this, but it’s hard when it feels like her everything depends on this very moment. “I was wondering if you could help me finish it?”
Emu goes first. She jumps out of her seat and runs up to the stage, knocking into Tsukasa and Nene on her way out of the row and into the aisle, approaching the stage. They follow her quickly, and it is extremely apparent to Rui that she will have an ending to her show soon.
“Rui, you idiot,” says Nene, stalking up the stairs. Emu barrels into Rui with a hug, and Nene quickly does the same. “You're an idiot, you could've just told us and it would've been fine–”
“Rui!” Emu cries into Rui’s chest, her voice muffled. “You know we love you no matter what, forever and ever!”
“I can't believe all of this was… argh, Rui, you're such a handful sometimes,” Tsukasa says, shaking his head. Rui thinks he's smiling. He puts a hand on her shoulder encouragingly.
“I…” It is much harder than Rui thought it would be to talk past the lump in her throat. “I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused you all these past few weeks.”
Emu and Nene finally let go, giving Rui space to breathe. “Are you serious? You were having life changing revelations and you’re…apologizing for being conflicted about it?” Tsukasa asks incredulously.
Rui steps to the edge of the stage, lowering herself to the ground to sink into one of the front row seats. She doesn't know what to say. She almost never knows the exact right thing to say when it comes to these things.
The VIRTUAL SINGERS are somewhere, she supposes, trying to give WonderlandsXShowtime their moment. She'll need to help clean up everything afterwards, put away all of the props…
“I didn't know what to expect when you invited us here,” Nene says quietly, sitting in the seat next to her. “And then you got to the part with the bench and it all kind of clicked.”
Rui gives her a sidelong glance as Emu and Tsukasa come to stand in front of them. “I was… It was difficult for me to say the truth to all of you because I value your friendship so much,” she says, willing the tears in her eyes to stop gathering. “I kept hearing these what-ifs go through my head about what could happen or could go wrong.
“It's frightening to not be the person you think you're supposed to be,” Rui says, thinking about Mizuki on the rooftop. “And I didn't want to lose you all because you thought me as strange.”
“I think it's silly you'd expect us to find you being a girl strange when you’re excited to launch me out of cannons on a regular basis,” Tsukasa mutters. Nene hits him on the arm.
“Do you feel better at all? Saying it?” Emu asks.
Rui lets herself smile. “Yes. Always. I’m happy to finally be the me I want to be,” she says, and she looks each of her friends in the eye when she says it.
“I just can't believe, the whole time, you thought we wouldn't love you for something like this,” Nene says. “For all your moments of genius, you think some pretty dumb things.”
“I know. It's not that, necessarily. I'm aware of the irrationality,” Rui says, unable to bite down her grin. “It doesn't matter anymore though, right? Everything is resolved.”
For a short time, no one says anything. Tsukasa sits in the chair next to Rui and Emu chooses to sit on the floor in front of her. Rui thinks about the bench incident and grips the edge of her seat, long fingers curling into the plush velvet.
“I think I kind of knew before,” Nene says softly, eyebrows drawn together and smiling apologetically. “You would do all these things. And then, when you played the lead that one time, I thought it might've occurred to you.”
Ah. “I need to change out of my costume,” is what Rui says. Being aware of how her loved ones perceive her is still strange, in a way. Still, she doesn't move.
“There's still time to go have dinner somewhere,” says Tsukasa. “It might be a nice way to relax after everything you've been dealing with.”
Before Rui can say yes, a heavy sense of exhaustion settles over her limbs. The adrenaline of performing has left her body, the fight or flight response no longer triggered. She sinks further into the seat of the chair, hands coming up to cover her face. While dinner sounds fun, so does going home and sleeping peacefully for a while.
“Wah!” Emu says, startling Rui out of her thoughts. “Rui, you don't look so good. Are you okay? Do you need to go home?” Emu’s face is pulled down in concern, her posture suddenly straight.
“I'm fine,” she says, smiling weakly. “I'm exhausted. You all have no idea how long I've spent trying to do this right, only to have a very anticlimactic ending to all of this. All my worrying was for nothing.”
I have to take the device home to fine-tune it if we end up using it, thinks Rui in the silence that follows. And get more mirrors, and maybe a new battery…
“You copied our original show,” Tsukasa says, though there's no malice in his tone. He turns his body in the seat so he's facing Rui. “It was fun. I liked the part with the light show a lot, we should add that into one of our performances.”
“Oh, me too, me too! Rui, your device was so wonderhoy!” Emu says brightly.
“I have to pick up all of the mirrors now. It’ll be harder to hide them on outdoor stages, but indoor theaters will work fine,” Rui says, looking up at the stage. No one replies.
What is she supposed to say? It wasn't nearly as dramatic as she was expecting. She's still in her costume, feeling somewhat ridiculous in the big hat. The VIRTUAL SINGERS are tidying up the stage, giving WonderlandsXShowtime the space they need.
“Thank you,” Rui says quietly. She's not sure if anyone hears the words at all until Emu stands up and hugs her again, and then Nene, and Tsukasa, and she's unsure of what to do with all of the attention.
“We missed you,” Nene says. “You shouldn't feel the need to hide from us, you know. We’re your friends, dummy. We love you no matter what.”
“I have been thoroughly told of how dense I've been during this whole debacle,” Rui says, smiling, and she raises her right hand (with some difficulty, given the arms wrapped around her.) “I promise to be less …stupid about things going forward.”
“You're not stupid, Rui! Don't say that!” Emu says, pulling back. “It's okay to be scared sometimes. But…”
“But?”
“Can you pinky promise to talk to us the next time you feel sad?”
How lucky I am to be here. To be with these people. To call them my friends.
I'm allowed to want this. I can let myself be happy, Rui thinks to herself. It gets a little easier every day to indulge in that joy. She might rot her brain from how often she's been partaking in her own happiness lately.
“Of course, I wouldn't dream of doing anything to cause more trouble to you all,” she says, smiling deviously as she links pinkies with Emu. “Although, for one of you, I have a few interesting stunts in mind.”
“Hey. Wait,” Tsukasa says, leaning back from the hug. “Don't interrupt the nice moment with your antics. We're trying to convey our everlasting love for you.”
“Strange,” Rui says, mock pouting. “I thought you all loved me no matter what? Suddenly I can't encourage your growth as an actor?”
“I seriously can't with you…” Nene says, but she's smiling, and so is everyone else, and Rui gently places her big silly hat on the floor and lets herself laugh with her friends in a world that didn't end because she was a different person than she thought.
Objectively, things are fine.
~
Rui has never been good at coordinating her outfits. She’d always been used to throwing on whatever she had available, usually happening to be a loose fitting shirt and big pants. Now, though…
It's not that she'd had a large issue with her wardrobe before, but when Mizuki offered to go shopping for some new clothes with her, she said yes. She figured letting anyone else pick clothes for her would end up looking fine, and the choices Mizuki made for her were… they were nice. She can't see herself in the mirror, but she thinks she might even be pretty. The frilly blouse had certainly looked pretty when Mizuki had pointed it out on the mannequin.
Nene, Tsukasa, and Emu are gathered in her room for what was supposed to be a “gathering of intellectuals” (Tsukasa’s words) meant to discuss show ideas. Really, it was just an excuse to hang out together. Rui worked up the courage to ask if they wanted to see her new clothes, and they agreed.
“Rui, pleeeeeease show us!!! We wanna see!” Emu calls from her place on the floor.
“Yeah! Rui, come out already, we're waiting!” Tsukasa shouts from the jouch. Rui knows Nene is next to him, waiting.
The irony of Tsukasa’s words is not lost on her.
In her room, behind a large folding screen she found for an astonishingly low price online, Rui smooths her palms over her new blouse and down to the long black skirt she wears. It looks the same as her other wide legged pants, but it feels different.
Rui feels different. It's been surreal these past few weeks to feel… normal. Her entire sense of self is new, and yet the same, but it's pleasant. It's nice to be alive again.
And of course, they're still here. Her most beloved friends. She can't imagine living a life without them in it.
“Of course,” Rui says after a breath. “Presenting… me, I suppose.”
She’s never felt the need for an excess of attention on herself. Her works– sure. It's different when it’s just her, though.
When she steps out from behind the screen, it's not nearly as bad as she's expecting. Mostly, all she feels is anticipation for her friends' reactions.
Emu gasps loudly and claps her hands together. “Do a spin, do a spin!”
Rui twirls as gracefully as she can, the skirt flaring around her legs. Emu claps louder, and Rui thinks she hears Nene saying wow quietly. She feels that giddy excitement she normally gets when she thinks up a new idea for a gadget or a show bubble up in her chest.
“Does it look nice?” Rui asks tentatively.
“Yeah. I think you should let other people pick out your clothes more often,” Nene says, though her smile gives her away. “You're not wearing clashing stripes for once.”
“You look soooooo cute, Rui! Amazing! So wonderhoy!” Emu says, standing up to grab Rui’s hands and spin around with her. Rui grins and turns and feels so incredibly grateful for everything.
“You look happy,” Tsukasa says at a normal volume, once the world stops spinning. His smile is warm and soft and Rui stops spinning to take everything in. There's light pouring in through the windows, her computers humming idly. Nene and Emu and Tsukasa all in her room just to see her be herself.
“I am happy,” Rui replies quietly. “I have everything I could ever need.”