AN: Okay, so after being a fan for well over a year, I finally get off my arse and write something. And I do believe I told a friend I'd write this half a year ago almost. Yeesh. Well, Boktai section, you are now desecrated by my work, you know I love you.

Disclaimer: I no own any people or places of mention, but the actual fic and all events mentioned I do. :3


When Sabata had earlier asked Django just what he was being dragged to, Django had found no better description than a 'social gathering'. Sabata had steeled himself for the worst.

The worst turned out to be a dance party of sorts, at night, at the Pile Driver. They were dancing on the Pile Driver. This was about when Sabata decided the entire city was insane. But at least they were the pleasant kind of insane.

Either the two brothers were running early, or the majority of everyone Sabata knew was running late. He could only pick out a few familiar faces in the crowd so far. One was Smith, seated next to the refreshment (aka: alcohol) table, who Otenko floated off to talk about 'The Good Old Days' with. (Sabata made sure to stay out of hearing range.) Another was Violet, who was twirling around with Kuro despite the fact it wasdefinitely past her bedtime. The last two were Cheyenne and Lady, who were dancing the waltz together. Or at least Sabata thought it was the waltz, he had no real knowledge of dancing, so it could've been the flamenco for all he knew. He also wasn't sure if he should mark that sight as 'scarring', or 'potential blackmail'.

Sabata, who had temporarily lost Django in what little crowd there was, managed to spot him sitting on one of the otherwise deserted benches set out, and joined him.

"So, why did you insist I come to this?" Sabata demanded of his younger brother. The Solar Boy kicked his feet in the air and smiled sheepishly, looking out over the courtyard.

"Well, it was actually Mother and Father who started this tradition…" That changed Sabata's opinion of the whole thing entirely.

"It was?"

"Yes, it was Mother's idea. They started coming out here at night on the Full Moon and dancing, just the two of them. Mother thought it was really romantic." Ah, romance, there was a word that made the former Dark Boy uneasy.

"And it turned into this, how? …"

"Someone, I think it was Violet's mother, Smith's daughter, found out what they were doing, and dragged her husband, the undertaker, out for a night too. It kind of grew from there…"

"Ah… wait, the undertaker is Violet's father?"

"Yeah, didn't you notice the resemblance?"

"Well yeah, but it never occurred to me… I never see them together."

"He hasn't been able to look at her since his wife died…"

"… Oh." Django decided it was best to change the topic, fast.

"They fell in thewater once. Our parents, I mean, while dancing." Sabata stared.

"You know, I'd like to believe you're kidding." Django smiled at his brother's disbelief.

"They did! I was really young at the time, but I sort of remember it. And Otenko loves telling the story."

"Odd that I haven't heard it then. Of course, that's probably because he keeps repeating that one about the bar…"

"That's his favorite." Django leaned back slightly on the bench, looking up at the full moon in the sky, which was partially covered by the light overcast that night. "Well, Father tripped on his own foot right next to the edge—"

"Oh for the love of…"

"—and Mother tried to catch him—"

"Which obviously didn't work."

"So they both fell in. And after everybody managed to pull them out, Mother realized her best necklace—Father had given it to her as an engagement present, it was really beautiful—had fallen off while she was in the water. And Father, as soon as he heard that—"

"Jumped right back in?" Sabata finished for him, and after looking over at Smith and Otenko, the former of which was imitating the motions of someone half-drowning, figured they were conversing about the same thing. "And the problem being, he couldn't swim, could he?"

Django grinned from ear to ear. "At all."

"…Did they even find the necklace?"

"Yeah! Father somehow managed to grab it before they dragged him back out of the water."

Sabata shook his head in mock-remorse, "Well, there goes what respect I had for the man." His brother only laughed. Raising his head and scanning the crowd again, Sabata spotted something green, very, very green, coming straight at them.

Was that Lita?

Oh, wow. The batty old seamstress of San Miguel finally went completely off her rocker and really out-did herself. "Uh, Django, you might want to look a little south of us…"

Djangodid. And stared.

Lita was all decked out in a silk evening gown, the same color as her eyes, as well as matching dress shoes, dress gloves, and two leaf-shaped hair clips. It had a low—but still quite decent—neckline which, along with the pinched-in waist, was decorated with stylish embroidery of vines and leaves. There were also bunches of other little details, however, none of which were the kind of thing a guy would actually notice. What they saw on whole was what counted. And Django was still staring.

"H-hello! Master Django, Master Sabata…" Lita greeted, somewhat out of breath from running across the whole courtyard in a long dress and shoes that were practically slippers. She smiled nervously and blushed slightly, waiting for one of them to say something. Unfortunately, Django failed miserably at this.

"Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh…" For Django's sake, Sabata discreetly gave him a kick in the shin. "You look great!" The blond boy blurted out, suddenly regaining the wondrous ability called thinking. Lita turned crimson.

"R-really, you think so? …" She asked, stuttering again, and played a bit with the hem of her sleeve. Django nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah! It looks perfect on you, Lita." The Earthly Maiden would've turned redder if she could, but instead had to settle for widening her anxious smile. The two started polite conversation and she gradually managed to get a hold of herself, and Sabata considered the entertainment for the night to be over. Until someone shouted in his ear.

"HEY!"

Actually caught off-guard for once, the violet haired boy whirled in to his left to see—pink. And jumped back in shock. "Ack!" And then realized it was only Zazie. In a dress. Well, at least he was justified in almost screaming. Unfortunately for him, Zazie (not entirely) mistakenly thought he had recoiled in horror.

"What," she snarled, "think I look terrible?"

"Yes! Er, no! Wait, what?" Django, noticing his brother's evident distress, kindly kicked him in the shin. "No, you look fine, but what kind of reaction do you expect when you give someone a heart attack?" Sabata glowered, Zazie glowered back for a moment, and then drew herself up to her full height of cotton-candy pink terror.

"Well excuse me, but normally nobody can sneak up on you. A little off your game tonight, hmm?" She eyed him suspiciously. "Have you been drinking?" Sabata glared indignantly.

"Do I look drunk to you? —No, wait, don't answer that." Zazie 'hmped', then promptly snatched his arm and started dragging him off to the crowd. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

"Not dancing by myself is what!"

"Dancing—Oh hell no! —I have no idea how—"

"So!"

"But I'm not even dressed for—"

"So!"

Sabata couldn't teleport off with her attached to his arm like she was, and from her tone of voice, he realized he'd have to shut up if he wanted to make it through the evening alive and hopefully in less than three pieces. At least, he thought distantly, she didn't have her staff with her. That would've been really bad.

And, as it turned out, Zazie was no better at dancing than he and maybe worse. Lita had much more gently managed to cohere Django into giving it a try, and from what Sabata could catch of the two, they at least had some idea of what they were or weren't doing.

Squashed toes aside (Sabata couldn't help but wonder if Zazie really had to wear heels, he had lost most feeling by now), it hadn't been too terrible until one particularly bad twirl got the ends of the Moonlight scarf caught around Zazie's neck. Zazie had immediately reacted by pulling on it the worst way possible, turning what had been a loose knot into some sort of suffocating monster of a knot. Another yank somehow managed to also tighten it around Sabata's neck.

Sabata couldn't get it undone and was starting to run out of air. Lady and Cheyenne had actually been the first two to notice what had happened, quickly followed by Lita, Django, Smith, and Otenko. Cheyenne, Sabata, Smith, and Django all pulling at it from different spots (with Lady and Otenko advising the procedure and Lita panicking) finally got the two teens free before they turned too noticeably blue in the face.

It had started with Lita. It had been a soft, barely audible noise, and she quickly clamped a hand to her mouth to smother it out, but the damage had been done. Django's lips started twitching, along with Cheyenne's and Smith's, and Lady began raising her hand to her mouth.

And suddenly, they were laughing.

Django and Lita were hanging onto each other for support, laughing and giggling their heads off. Cheyenne and Smith were roaring with laughter, and Lady was laughing politely, but the twinkle in her eyes said that she was going to blackmail them later on. Zazie herself was rolling on the ground, ruining her cotton candy pink dress, beating at the stone with her fist and howling. Everyone was laughing.

And suddenly, Sabata realized he was a part of 'everyone' too.