even if you were { upside down } // ele, blitz!

Seven.

Maybe?

He couldn't be sure.

He'd been trying to make his way to breakfast when he'd realized that he was accidentally in an elevator going up. The sensation had been wonderful, like riding an ocean wave. He'd stayed on the elevator and rode it up and down as people came on and off until the beginning of breakfast. He'd realized too late however that he should have gotten off with the last load. When the doors had made their happy little jingle he'd exited the floating room in search of the stairs instead. The elevator buttons were not engraved, nor were they equipped with brail.

He'd counted them carefully with his fingers and hoped for the best but he might have only managed to find the 'door open' button.

Since then he had gone down six flights of stairs, wandered around a bit and realized he was still on the wrong level and had gone up five to compensate. He'd wandered around that floor for awhile in search of the elevator but was unable to hear it's familiar ding. He'd found the stairs again and gone up some more and then down some and then up. Before he knew it, he was entirely and hopelessly lost.

He wouldn't mind so much if it weren't for the fact that he was sure he'd missed breakfast.

It was alright, he still had some spare cakes from the train ride hidden away in his coat pockets. His stylist had tried to take it from him, they had wanted to burn it. Kite had refused. His coat was warm and he knew where all the pockets were on it.

He had begun to try entering random doors in the hopes that one of them would lead to breakfast but so far they all seemed to be locked.

With a sigh he shoved his shoulder against a door, fully expecting it not to give under his weight (a very unimpressive weight his stylist had said).

Unfortunately it did.

He fell into the room with a small sound of surprise and a thud on cold tiles. He had not been expecting tiles, not at breakfast at least. Breakfast had carpets if he recalled correctly.

Ouch.

He'd hit his left elbow hard on the tiling and it stung all the way up his arm. He bit his lip, cupping his elbow with his right hand, rubbing the bone only covered by his coat and then a thin layer of skin. No matter how often he managed to miss a step and go tumbling down he could never get used to the sharp, stinging pain.

He heard movement in front of him and automatically raised his head as if to look at it. His body never seemed to remember that no matter how hard he tried he would never see.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

His mind raced as he tried to figure out what he'd done wrong and where he'd ended up.

The floor was tiling, when the voice spoke, female, it echoed.

Oops.

His cheeks reddened as he pulled himself to a sitting position, frowning slightly from the fresh bruises probably already forming on his knees. Kite had never been the luckiest of people but there was nothing he bemoaned so much as the pain of falling on his knees.

"Ah, I'm sorry," he said softly, "I-" He stopped, ears caught on the way the words sounded in the room. The sounds bounced off the walls and collapsed onto the floor, only to get a second wind and bounce up to the ceiling. It was beautiful.

"I was looking for the dining hall."