I looked down at the legs of the piano. It looked like wheels were installed.

Must’ve been recent, perfect! 

I unlocked them, moving behind the piano to start pushing it towards the door. I struggled with the sheer mass of it, but I kept going. I wasn’t going to back out now.

I had about half of it through the double doors barely; it was a tight fit. I winced every time any edge of the piano made even a hint of a scraping sound.

Just then, I heard a low whistle rightward outside of the door. A mop of blue hair peaked inside. Identical blue eyes narrowed with a mischievous grin to match. All the telltale signs of one curious Arthur Conan Doyle.

“What do we have here, luv?”

I brought the piano to an abrupt halt and stood leaning on it casually. 

“…Nothing.”  

“Well, it seems to me a lot like you’re trying to snatch Wolfie’s piano.”

I stared long and hard back at his keen azure eyes, my position unchanging.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

He flinched. His grin melted off of his face into something between a grimace and a pout.

“MC!!” He whined, “You know I don’t like being compared to that woman-hating bloke.”

“Shhhhhh!” I attempted to hush discretely and assertively. I paused, on the lookout for any signs of more vampiric movement.  

None.

I rolled my eyes at his insistent snickering.

“I am taking this piano for myself, now are you going to help me, or do I have to eliminate you first?”

“Eliminate me? Last I checked, I won our last bet, and you owe me a favor.”

“You cheated! I called out your loophole and you still haven’t paid up for that.”

“…alright, dove, I’ll relent this time, but I’m not back down from my favor rights.”

The thought of Mozart’s absolutely livid expression when he finds out about this was an utter delight to the resident troublemaker.

“Oi!” I glared at the sudden feeling of contact from a gloved hand, swatting the offensive hand away.

“You’re not getting any favor until this mission is completed, Sir Arthur.”

“Alright, alright. Just don’t call me Sir again. It’s much too formal for us, pretty bird.”

Arthur proceeded to push the piano, flashing a practiced flirty wink to me.

I could not roll my eyes any further back than I already did. This man never rests, does he? Not that I minded.

Not that I would ever admit to him that I did not, in fact, mind it.

‘Focus. Piano. Mine. First.’

“Where are we taking this to anyways?”

“Your room,” I answered instantly, “Duh.”

~*~

It was a long day at rehearsal. Mozart’s entire body ached from standing, conducting, yelling, and just being out in public in general. He rubbed his temples insistently on his carriage ride home with Jean, praying he could just be in his piano room at last.

Arriving after sundown, Mozart made a beeline for his room to change clothes, then to his sacred piano room. He had a stack of sheet music tucked under his arm, as he went to unlock the room.

Wait. It was already unlocked.

Oh no. Oh no.

He opened the door with the force of a hurricane. His lavender eyes wide and enraged. The sheet music scattered on the floor haphazardly.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The vampire composer’s sadness and sorrow could be heard loud and clear in every corner of the mansion. The crows flew off of their tree branches, the squirrels scurried off into the wilderness, and the worms hid beneath the dirt. But none of these creatures were half as terrified as the mansion’s residents.

Well, almost all of the residents.

Two lovely troublemakers leaned against the subject of Mozart’s anguish, laughing hysterically together. We currently settled in Arthur’s room with the hostage piano standing proud, nestled between his bed and his writing desk. The chaise-lounge was moved to the side for space. The fortepiano’s solid white wood contrasted with Arthur’s dark oak furniture, creating a magical air to it. It carried itself like a precious treasure out of a dragon’s den. 

Our laughter died down as I slid Arthur’s chair in front of the guest piano of honor, sitting elegantly as I would in front of an audience. I brought my hands gingerly over the keys, softly pressing to play excerpts of pieces I learned in the 21st century.

Arthur slowly settled into his chaise-lounge on the sidelines. It may have started as a prank, but now he deemed himself the luckiest man in the world to be the sole audience member in this moment.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of a furious Mozart loudly announcing his presence in the room next to us. The suddenness of it caused me to strike a harsh dissonant chord that surely reached the composer’s ears.

‘Shit shit shit shit.’

Wordlessly, I flattened myself on the floor and rolled under Arthur’s bed to hide, leaving Arthur to confront Mozart’s rage single-handedly. Luckily for me, Arthur was too caught up by the sound of Mozart’s entrance to notice. 

“Arthur…” Mozart was seething, every word dripped with venom, “what is my fortepiano doing in your room?”

Mozart’s expression was deadly calm, but the intensity in his eyes caught Arthur off-guard.

“Mozart, mate, you see… Me and—” Arthur’s confident aura dissipated as he found no MC behind the piano anymore.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t report you to le Comte.”

Arthur received his second shock of this conversation. His mind swirled with flashbacks to Comte’s relentless scolding and subsequent punishments.

“I… have none. But what I can do is help you return it to its original place.”

THE Arthur Conan Doyle... bargaining? I pressed my lips to avoid making a sound as I shook from laughter.

“Help me?! This is all your responsibility to put back without a single scratch.”

Arthur’s eyes darted for a split second to the edge of the piano.

Uh oh, Mozart noticed.

“ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE, YOU DARE DAMAGE MY PIANO?!”

Needless to say, Arthur would expect an earful from le Comte after the earful he just received from Mozart. Oh, he was definitely going to abuse his favor from MC after this.

Once the sound of their footsteps grew fainter with time, I slowly rolled out to run where no one could hear my laughter that was kept bottled up for the past 30 minutes.

I stumbled a bit as I tried to compose myself in the hallway when—

“Oi, Hondje. What are you off giggling about?”

Despite having calmed down from my previous laughing fit, recalling the past hour’s events got me doubling over in laughter again. I held up a hand as a signal to give me a minute. Theo pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering something about his time being precious.

“Ok, so basically…”

As I told him everything that unfolded, Theo went from facepalming to slightly shook to cracking a smile at Arthur’s demise.

“You brilliant Hondje,” he chuckled unexpectedly. 

I straightened up and courtsied as dramatically as I could muster with arms outstretched.

“Why, thank you.”

His smirk straighted into a line, his eyes carrying a challenging glint, “Pull that shit on me and I won’t let you go that easy.”

“Oh, I’d like to see you try to stop me,” while maintaining eye contact, I pointed a finger at his chest, “you’re next.” 

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Mozart scowled.

He narrowed his eyes down on her, elevating his intimidation threefold. If looks could kill, she’d have lasers shooting through her skull right now.

“Ok, Ok, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, I just wanted to play on the piano once!”

“That’s no excuse for damaging my prized piano.”

MC closed her eyes, shielding herself with defensive hands.

“The scratch was taken care of, wasn’t it?! No harm, no foul…?”

She lowered her hands slightly and peeked one eye at him. He continued to glare at her for another minute. Then he sighed tiredly and stepped away, allowing her some breathing room. He turned to face his neglected piano inside the room.

“I heard you playing in Arthur’s room. At the time, I couldn’t confirm if it really was you or not.”

“And… what did you think?” She treaded carefully into this conversation.

His murderous intent had somehow subdued. Silence settled between them while his eyes seemed to stare off beyond the piano.

Suddenly, he turned back to her with a huff, fixing his icy lavender gaze on her once more.

“Surely nothing that could compare to my music,” he scoffed.

He was about to turn away and shut the door behind him, but MC called out to him.

“Wait! Herr Mozart!”

She grabbed him by the shoulder, to which he clutched and twisted her arm off of him.

“Don’t touch me,” he seethed. She nursed her assaulted wrist and took a deep breath.

“Listen, I’m really sorry about what I did. To be honest, I’ve always loved the piano, and so when I saw yours, I couldn’t help it.”

“You… couldn’t help dragging it across the hallway and wasting all of our time?”

“…That was more of a heat-of-the-moment kind of plan,” she laughed sheepishly.

She took a deep breath and started again, “If I may be so bold, can I… ask you to teach me to play the piano... the way you do?”

The hallway fell silent again. A silence so heavy, it felt like it lasted an eternity.

“Can you sight read?”

“Yes.”

“Know your scales?”

“Yes.”

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

MC spoke with a renewed confidence, “I can prove it if you’ll let me.”

She tipped her head in the direction of Mozart’s prized possession. He shook his head, already walking back inside, but his gaze remained fixated.

“Meet me here tomorrow after breakfast. Be late and the deal is off. You’ve been warned. I don’t take kindly to tardiness.”

He turned on his heel, punctuating his declaration with a door slam.

...

...Did that really just happen?

‘I don’t know if I should feel honored or threatened? ...or BOTH??’

After a few seconds, the sound of the piano returned at full force, breaking MC out of her reverie. Whatever she was feeling was replaced with a sense of pride in getting herself out of his anger’s reach. Her worries slowly melted into excitement for tomorrow.

Feeling absolutely giddy, she almost forgot her last task of the day. ‘Dining room!’ She picked up her cleaning supplies and made her way to the kitchen, where a row of windows were waiting.

Just as she was done wiping the last one, a hand popped up on the windowsill, followed by another. MC jumped from the suddenness of it, taking a step back as she anticipated the intruder’s next moves. She replaced the towel in her hand with the sturdy mop as her weapon of retaliation. Holding the back end to the window, she prepared herself to attack.

“Oh, hello, Toshiko-san! The weather is lovely today,” he greeted cordially.      

Eh?      

“Dazai?!”

With a huff, he gracefully hoisted himself up and into the dining room.

“Thank you for opening the window for me, it can be such a troublesome thing sometimes,” he shot her a serene smile, one that she couldn’t trust whatsoever.

“You scared the crap out of me! Why did you just climb through the window??”

“Hmmm… Simply put, it’s fun!” He stated with his unwavering smile.  

“W-well, don’t do that. I won’t hesitate to fight you, next time.”

“Ah~ Yoshie-san. You’re so cute when you’re commanding. And what if I do it again, hm?” He challenged with a carefree smile. 

Before she could respond, he walked away with a casual wave behind him, like he didn’t just crawl through the window and scare the soup out of her.

After he turned the corner, MC stared long and hard at the window. Her gaze shifted between the windowsill where Dazai’s hands were once perched, and the archway to the kitchen, where a stick of butter on the counter caught her attention. 

“I guess I just have to show you then...” she mumbled with a wicked cheshire grin etched on her face.

~*~

MC washed her hands of the evidence of her latest scheme, whistling a cheerful tune as one does after applying copious amounts of slippery butter a set of dining room windows. 

She was tidying up the kitchen when Sebastian walked in, ready to make dinner preparations.

“You’re here early, excellent! You’ve been doing well to keep up lately.”

“Why, thank you. I learned from the best,” she mused with a wink.

“Everyone is coming to tonight’s dinner, so we better get started right away.”

Oh, perfect.

And so MC busied herself with dinner preparations, anticipating Dazai’s next unsuspecting climb.

Le Comte de Saint-Germain was happy to see the dining room full of his dear residents. Even Jean was dragged behind Napoleon, who had insisted on the former soldier’s attendance. Le Comte wondered if there was any special occasion that gathered them all, and he voiced his question to his old friend. The polymath shrugged, letting out a puff of smoke from his cigarillo.

Chatter was scattered in the room, Isaac and Napoleon were conversing with Jean. Mozart sat next to Jean with arms crossed, tapping a rhythm with his fingers. Arthur and Theo were bickering about their latest bet with Vincent appointed the mediator of their quarrel.

Le Comte looked on fondly at his residents before his eyebrows knit together in concern. He glanced at his pocket watch while MC and Sebastian made their rounds to serve everyone.

“Where’s Dazai?” Asked a concerned Momte.

Everyone glanced at the window of the dining hall, waiting for his entrance.

“Do you guys smell… butter?” Isaac asked, face scrunched up and confused. 

As if on cue, long slender fingers appeared from the darkness onto the windowsill, but they failed to maintain a firm grip.

“He’s not gunna make it!”

Try as he might, the window fought back.

Dazai’s life flashed before his eyes as time seemed to slow down.

Is it my time, already? Betrayed by my own window-chan. 

Well played... Toshiko-san.

 [Bonus scene]

Back in the dining room, Vincent and Theo, who were nearest to the window,  stood and peered over the edge to search for the eccentric novelist through the darkness.

MC had to excuse herself to avoid laughing out loud in front of them all.

“Not so fast, MC,” Sebastian blocked her escape. 

A thousand flicks were her punishment that evening, on top of a lecture about harming the esteemed residents of the mansion.

“But he’s a vampire! He’ll be fine~.”

Try as he might, Comte could not bring himself to punish MC.  

Arthur had his head thrown back in laugther, enjoying the unexpectedly eventful dinner. Once his laughter died down, he wiped the tears from his eyes, trying to catch his breath. 

He glanced Isaac, who looked far from pleased, “Hey, Newt, do you reckon Dazai’s fall carried enough force to leave a hole where he landed?”

“Is this really the time to inquire about a hole in the ground when Dazai MIGHT HAVE JUST DIED- well, maybe not died,” Isaac’s hand latched onto a lock of his hair twirling it as he continued, “based on the height of the fall and his weight, the gravitational force may not end up large enough to cause fatal damage, but he could still end up with a concussion or what if he landed on a sharp end—that is, unless—"  

Frantic rustling leaves could be heard from the garden below.

“He’s fine! I spotted his head pop out of the bushes,” Vincent announced, and Theo tsked in disappointment. 

“Oh, or… that is also… a possibility.”

“DAZAI-SENSEI, ARE YOU OK?” Sebastian rushed to the window next to Vincent, having finished lecturing MC. Dazai’s head was spinning, but he didn’t seem bothered by the fall at all.

 “I’M FINE, I’M—” 

...and he fainted. 

Everyone turned to MC, who was laughing despite the earlier scolding and the bright red mark on her forehead.  

You don’t recall ever having that issue, deeming yourself lucky for once, which isn’t the case very often when it comes to you and Theo.

“Alright, if you say so,” you shrugged. Grabbing the tray, you turned to the dining room...

“You trust me, don’t you?”

You know you’re my dearest friend.

…but their words stopped you mid-spin. You looked back at them; there was an red glint in their eyes. In a flash, their eyes softened considerably. The look they gave earlier vanished entirely, maybe you had imagined it.

You shrugged again, muttering, “I have no reason not to.”

You’ve been with me through thick and thin.

You made your way to the dining room, where the early birds, Theo and Vincent, sat patiently, conversing with each other.

“Good morning, gentlemen!” You beamed.

You were met with a duet of good mornings. Theo sat back casually with his favorite newspaper, flipping through it as he always did. Vincent sat next to him, sketching on his own newspaper.   

‘Work never rests for these two’, you mused fondly.  

You placed Theo’s tray in front of him. He set the morning paper down, grabbing his utensils. 

Then he paused, “And where’s Vincent’s?”

But even you should know by now…

“Oh, they’re being made now, don’t worry. MC just—”

Theo dropped his knife and fork, settling back in his seat.

“I won’t eat until it arrives, then.”

Theo’s eyes were challenging, like he wasn’t taking any shit from anyone today. Bad mood, noted. You inhaled deeply to prevent snapping back at him. Thankfully Vincent was there to do it for you. 

“Theo… How many times do I have to tell you: Don’t be so rude!” Vincent sat up and pinched Theo’s cheek as he talked. Vincent then turned to you and apologized, saying he didn’t mind the wait.

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” You left with a tight smile, biting your tongue.

…that I cannot be trusted.

You made your way back to the kitchen.

“MC! Do you have Vincent’s pancakes ready?”

“Yeah, just a second.”       

“I think Theo’s in a bad mood, and I’ve already annoyed him because I didn’t serve Vincent first," you leaned against the counter with a huff, “Why is he always so mean...”

Not quite making eye contact, they replied, “Oh, well.”

I am so, so sorry, ____...

They handed you his tray, and you made your way to the dining room once again. What you hadn’t realized was that by walking out, you had sealed your own fate.

"Took you long enough, Hondje,” Theo grumbled, leaning forward to reach for the syrup.

Vincent smiled appreciatively, “Thank you very much, ___.”

...but at the same time...

“My pleasure, Vincent. Enjoy your breakfast!” You bowed, taking a step back.

Theo wasted no time in drowning his pancakes in syrup. He took one bite from his pancakes, and his eyes blew wide open. The look on his face was downright terrifying. You should’ve walked away. You really, really shouldn’t have stayed around any longer.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS, HONDJE?!”

"WHAT HAPPENED? WHAT DID I DO?”

...I’m so, so not sorry.

The last thing you heard before you were caught frozen under Theo’s intense, furious gaze…