wolfheartlog

Chance Maid-ting Logos x Doctor Althea

—Who would’ve thought THE Doctor Althea would work as a maid for a day and Logos could witness it firsthand?

; debuting with something silly ; based on Kay’s Daily Doodles ; #loghea ; #yumaiday24

***

“I did agree on replacing Mountain, but what is this about?”

“A special event?” Beanstalk smiled, tilting her head, trying to mask her amusement.

Doctor Althea turned to face the reproba, her heels clacking against the floor. The rim of the black skirt swayed and grazed the floor as she did so, the lace on the apron moving along. She crossed her arms, the puffy upper sleeve a bit deflated from it.

“I get that it’s a special event,” she sighed, massaging her temple, “but do I really have to wear a maid dress?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll wear one too, so you won’t be alone!” Beanstalk clapped her hand, beaming at the woman. “Besides, you know there are many operators who would love to see you like that!”

“Please don’t say it like that. You’re gonna get HR called on me.”

Standing in the back room of the Metal Crab Cafe, the two women each wore a maid dress. Beanstalk’s was more casual and free, with its knee-length fluffy dress and short-sleeved upper. Meanwhile, Althea’s was more classic, a floor-length loose and elegant dress, somewhat reminiscent of how she wore her usual robe and jacket.

Althea adjusted her collar and the bow on it and sighed. The dress was quickly made by Bibeak who was delighted despite the suddenness of the request. It fitted her perfectly, but it still felt awkward. As far as she could remember, she never wore something like this, especially not to act like a maid too. This was almost like she was going to be undercover as a maid. How silly.

She shuddered.

…why did she suddenly feel Kal’tsit glaring at her?

““Doctor!””

Her train of thought was broken as three pairs of footsteps rushed into the back room.

“Woah!” Althea held Bubble with Popukar and Ceobe hitting her back, stopping them from collapsing onto her. “You three okay?”

Popukar rubbed her nose and popped up from behind Bubble. “I-I’m okay, Doctor.”

Ceobe gave her a thumbs-up and moved to the side. “I’m oka—WOAH! Doctor, you look so pretty!” She immediately noticed Althea’s dress and watched her with glittering eyes.

“Kay is right! Doctor is pretty! So so so beautiful!” Bubble pumped up her fists, jumping around as she walked around her. “The dress fits so well with the lace thingy Popukar made yesterday!”

“R-really?” the small girl inches closer and wows at the elegant detailing of the apron. “It is! It looks so beautiful…”

Althea scratched her cheek and laughed. “Aww, thank you, all of you,” she said, “I’m still sorry Mountain has to go so suddenly… if I knew…”

“No, don’t worry! As long as Doctor is here, the day will still go smoothly!” Ceobe smiled, nudging Popukar. “Right, Popukar?”

“Y-yes! Doctor is great with talking to people too, so it’ll go fine!”

“You three,” she smiled, sighing in relief. “Let’s hope it’ll all go well, okay?”

“Mhm, it absolutely will! So don’t worry, Doctor!” Bubble nodded along. “We’ll take care of getting the customers too, so today will be perfect!”

Ceobe and Popukar cheered along with the cerato before excusing themselves to Althea and Beanstalk, ready to pick up the flier and get some customers into the cafe. The three children then rushed out, leaving Althea watching their back, still unsure how she should feel.

Looking at her sullen face, Beanstalk shook her head and took out her ace card.

“Doctor, the girls did so much preparation for today… you don’t want to disappoint them, right?”

Althea grimaced. It was her fault for sending Mountain on an emergency dispatch, so when she heard Ceobe, Popukar, and Bubble were planning something with him, she took over. She would’ve never guessed he was supposed to be a butler in Beanstalk’s cafe maid day event.

They came up with it after reading a comic about old Gaulish nobles, giving them ideas on decorating the cafe for a maid cafe event. Since Dobberman got Ethan to help with the A1 team to pay for his slacking, Mountain was the only one aside from Beanstalk who could work as staff of the cafe for the day. The girls would get customers to come while the two alongside the metal crabs worked in the cafe. And now that Mountain was gone for a week… she needed to fill in his shoes.

Althea sighed.

“Just keep Dr. Kal’tsit away from here, okay? I don’t wanna hear it from her.”

Beanstalk chuckled. “Of course, don’t worry about it, Doctor!”

At least she was free from paperwork today, she thought as she walked out and started preparing the cafe.

The morning went by quite quickly. As projected by Ceobe, there was a spike in customers because of the event. Althea kept saying it was because of the decor that the girls had helped transform into a cozy Gaulic castle interior but Beanstalk knew it was actually because the Doctor, unmasked and in a maid dress, was there.

Despite her prior apprehension, Althea navigated serving customers quite well. Her smile, despite almost falling a few times due to some customers pulling out their phones to take a picture of her, was natural. The way she moved around the metal crabs walking around, twirling, and helping carry the tray was nothing short of amazing. Most know her as an overworked, tired woman, a weird woman who kept eating Vanilla’s slug and the ramen stash in the pantry, a great strategist, or the ghost of Babel—so something like this was surprising.

Lunchtime arrived, and the number of customers started rising even more. She tended to each of them quickly and effectively, already forgetting the costume she was in. That is, until the door opened again and someone familiar strolled in.

“Welcome to Metal Crab Cafe, how can I help y—”

Althea’s sentence ended abruptly when she saw the figure standing on the cafe door. The tall man’s crown twitched a bit as he scanned her up and down, his mouth nearly hanging open in surprise.

“...Logos?”

The banshee took a few seconds to compose himself before talking. “Doctor, why are you here? And wearing that?”

She laughed, eyes darting away. “This? I’m helping Beanstalk.”

“I see.”

They stood in silence for a few seconds, unsure of how to navigate the situation. They are close, sure, but mostly in professional settings. Both carried themselves with professionalism aside in some situations like stool racing or scouring for noodles, so even they couldn’t realize or imagine both wanted to get closer in a more casual manner, more than mere admiration for each other.

Well, some, like Blaze, already noticed how much warmer and lenient Logos was towards the Doctor and often spent her time trying to get the two together, despite their confusion.

“Doctor~ Please help me get this coffee sent~” Beanstalk yelled from the counter, sliding the coffee on it. “The metal crabs are busy~”

Startled from her daze, Althea turned to face her. “Got it, a minute!” She yelled back at Beanstalk and turned to face Logos again, her hand on her chest. “So, would you like to take a seat?”

Logos closed his eyes, seemingly thinking, before opening them again. “If you can, please.”

Althea nodded and glided over to an empty seat with Logos following behind.

“Then please take a seat here.”

Logos sat down, looking up at her as she took out a note and waited for his order. “What will you order? Our specialty here is coffee, but we also have other items.” She started reading other things on the menu with the eloquence he always admired. “Of course, I recommend specialty coffee. It’s brewed personally by Beanstalk and picked from only the highest quality beans aboard Rhodes Island.”

“Give me a specialty coffee please,” Logos said.

“Understood,” she bowed before walking to the counter.

After fifteen minutes, Althea walked back to Logos’ table with one hand on a tray, balancing it perfectly before putting the cup down on the table.

“Why did you come here anyway?” She pushed the cup to him. “You’re not a coffee person, aren’t you?”

Logos reached for the cup, gliding his fingers on its rim. The aroma of the coffee was great, and the cup was high quality, prepared especially for today’s event.

“The children were walking around where I was, spreading flyers about Beanstalk’s metal crab cafe event for today. To be sure, I was already confused about who would be a maid in a metal crab cafe, so I wanted to check it out, but I certainly didn’t envision you to be the one doing it.”

“It’s a long story,” she said with a chuckle. It wasn’t long, she just didn’t want to talk about it.

Logos nodded. “But, I implore you, do not be ashamed of it, Doctor,” he lifted his cup, bringing it to his lips, “after all, you look good in that dress.”

The words came out of his lips so easily she would never have thought the feathers slowly covering part of his eyes and cheek was so she couldn’t see his red face.

“Thank you, Logos.” She smiled, running her fingers through her hair, hiding her own embarrassment. “Bibeak did a great job with it.”

He sipped the coffee as she watched, both clearly wanting to spend more time with each other yet unsure if they could say something like that so blatantly.

Althea was the first one to speak again, clearing her throat and speaking in a light-hearted manner. “Bibeak said I could keep the dress, so maybe I could wear it for some casual time?”

“Well, it’s up to you, Doctor,” he said, glancing at her, “but I would love to see you wear more of it.”

She chuckled. “Is that so?”

As the tension between the two of them started to get more friendly, another person cleared her throat and called out to Althea.

“Doctor~ Don’t flirt on your shift~”

“I’m not flirting.” She groaned, turning to the grinning reproba. Only then did she realize how most operators and staff in the cafe were looking at the Doctor and the Banshee Lord, an Elite Operator talking so casually to each other. She sighed, trying to ignore them. “And don’t smile like that, go back to grinding coffee.”

“Hehe, yes, Doctor~”

Althea shook her head, fiddling with the tray in her hand. “I’m afraid I must go now. I still have to finish this… job.”

She turned on her heels, but as she was about to take a step away, he spoke up, calling her name.

“Dr. Althea.” Logos looked up at her, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Maybe we can talk more after you’re finished with this?”

Althea chuckled, turning slightly to face him. “Gladly.”

Remark Simon “Ghost” Riley x D'Arcy “Canary” Parmentier

—She left an impression on him.

; first meeting ; tw battle , injuries , death ; #simarcy

***

“—on the other hand, Makarov has also taken over a town near the border.”

The image of a ransacked Russian town flashed on the screen, most houses and vehicles destroyed, and burned, puffing clouds of anarchy and disorder.

“They surrounded the town and captured hostages, with multiple injured,” said Laswell. The image switched to the faraway shots captured by those who provided intel, hostages upon hostages, tied up and huddled onto the corner. “And they’re willing to wait out until the news spreads of the ULF conducting this.”

As she closed her briefing, the Task Force 141 members turned stern. Price was leaning on the table with Gaz beside him breathing out into his fist, while Soap walked around in a circle, muttering curses in Scottish under his breath. Meanwhile, Ghost hung back near the wall, eyes unmoving from the screen.

“Not them taking hostages for the false flag now,” said Soap. “It’s gonna be hard breaching in like this.”

“And if they find 141 is involved with dead hostages, I’m not sure it’ll be better,” added Gaz.

Ghost huffed, looking over the screen, furrowing his brow. “He’s also taunting that the ULF could get into the US since they’ve managed to get to Russia. He’s bloody blowing everything up the scale.”

The Captain glanced around. Farah and Alex went to manage the other half of Makarov’s plan; planting evidence back in Urzikstan, so he couldn’t ask for them to handle the hostage situation. He glanced at the hostages’ pictures, his lips a straight line. Based on the intel, there were around 20 hostages, and to be honest, 141 never really dealt with hostages—not that many, not that injured.

But he also couldn’t let any of them die, not like this.

“So what’s the next step, Captain?” asked Gaz.

Price looked up at the rest of his team, each one of them returning his gaze.

“We need to clean the place up and most importantly, rescue those hostages,” he said, pulling up info to the screen, an image of a brown-haired woman displayed on it, “so time to contact a medic.”

***

“Sergeant D’Arcy Parmentier, Medical Sergeant, Green Beret.” D’Arcy stood straight as she walked into the base, hands clasped on her rifle. She was around Soap’s ears, her dark blue eyes piercing, the center point of her stern expression. Her light brown hair was neatly tied into a small ponytail on the base of her neck. “Honored to be here.”

Price patted her shoulder as she finished talking. “This is Canary. We met back in joint force with her ODA. One hell of a combat medic,” he glanced at Ghost, “and one hell of a sniper too.”

The man in the skull balaclava glared at Price’s statement, glancing at the woman beside him. The challenge was more than clear to him, but she didn’t seem to realize it.

“You’re exaggerating, sir,” she said.

“Nonsense.” He patted her one more time before stepping aside, letting her walk up to Soap who was holding the shoulder part of his vest, positively brimming. “Get to know each other first. We’ll start the briefing in a minute.”

After Price left, Soap started chatting her up while Gaz and Ghost hung behind, talking about the upcoming mission’s location and possible roadblocks.

“Canary, huh?” Soap laughed. “Call me Soap. Nice meeting ya.”

“Likewise.” She nodded. “It’s a pleasure to be able to join Task Force 141.”

He laughed, punching her on the arm. “Don’t be so stiff. Captain said we need to get to know each other, right? Right, I’ve never worked with someone from Green Beret before.” He took a step sideways and gestured at the two men behind him. “Let me introduce you to the rest of 141. That's Gaz and that’s Ghost.”

Gaz met her eyes, nodding as he adjusted his hat, which she returned. Then she turned to Ghost, waiting for the same gesture, but it never came. All she got was a stern look and cocked head as he looked down—literally—at her. But it didn’t deter D’Arcy. She returned that gaze too, pursing her lips. She couldn’t read his expression, but she was sure he was more than doubtful of her.

Even though D’Arcy didn’t mind that gaze, Soap did. He grimaced at the staring contest between the two and patted her on the back, leading her away from Ghost’s piercing eyes.

“Don’t mind him, he doesn’t talk much,” he said, trying to change the subject, “anyway, you better tell me about your experience over drinks after this mission.”

She shook her head, seemingly already over Ghost’s gaze. “Well, I don’t drink unless it’s an official business.”

“No way?! Really?”

“Really.”

Soap complained about how she couldn’t have fun as they walked away, while Gaz crossed his arms, unamused by the fact Ghost didn’t start their halted conversation in favor of another thing.

“Are you interested, Ghost?” Gaz turned to face the man. “You’ve been looking at her.”

“Just basic observation,” he answered curtly.

Gaz just hummed. It sure felt different from his usual observation though. For starters, his gaze was more piercing than usual, and he was sure his hand twitched there. But Gaz decided to leave that matter alone, unwilling to step into whatever the fellow SAS soldier had in mind.

***

“Canary, you’ll go and secure the hostages with Ghost, don’t forget to tend to any life-threatening injuries.” Price turned to the masked man before looking at D’Arcy, tapping the map. “Then secure a sniper’s nest.”

Laswell changed the screen to display more intel. “Konni has an eye on the town, so they’ll send reinforcements.”

D’Arcy sneaked a glance at him while Laswell talked. She couldn’t read him under that mask, but he didn’t object to the assignment, which was great. She had more than enough experience of fellow soldiers flinching or almost letting themselves complain the moment they got assigned to her, so his behavior was a breath of fresh air.

After the briefing, she moved to strap up on the supply crate, stopping just beside the man she was going to do the mission with. He fiddled with his sniper rifle—an MCPR-300—before putting it away, not even glancing at her. D’Arcy craned up at him. Standing beside the man makes her realize how much of a giant he was, and looking to meet his eyes hurt her neck.

“Ghost, right? I’ve heard things about you.”

He peered down under his mask. His brown eyes barely popped under the white of the skull pattern and the black paint around his eyes, but it was still intimidating nonetheless.

“Good things, I hope?”

She slung her own rifle strap over her body before unloading it, checking the chamber as she mumbled. “You can say that.”

“Good to know.” His voice was gruff, uninterested, but his gaze didn’t leave her. He watched her doing her inspection before finally walking away, stopping for a second to talk. “I’ll meet you back with others. Don’t take long.”

“Rog.”

***

Ghost and D’Arcy breached one of the houses on the hill from its backdoor. The lock on it was primitive enough to break, and they managed to slip in without any of the Al-Qatala member stationed near the house noticing. She scouted the first room, hands on her assault rifle as she did so.

“Clear.”

They moved room to room in a single file, searching for any sign of the AQ members while they talked.

“Price said you’re a great sniper. Is that true?”

“Nothing like that,” she said, “I just do better than the average.”

“That’s called great.”

“No, I’m just above average,” she said. She peeked around the corner and walked into the next. “You’re the great one.”

They continued moving in a single file, Ghost watching her back, her short ponytail bobbing along as they climbed upstairs. D’Arcy continued scouting for the two, until they arrived at the house’s upper bedroom.

The AQ member keeping watch of a few hostages got alerted by their footsteps. He panicked and dragged one up, yelling and grabbing his pistol to put on the hostage’s head.

But Ghost pulled out his silenced pistol first, zeroing the AQ member's head, and exploded him within a second. Unfortunately, with the man’s finger still on the trigger, his gun went off as he went limp, hitting the hostage’s arm instead.

“Shit—!” D’Arcy cursed. Not a moment later she rushed to the hostage, slinging her rifle back.

“Take a deep breath.” She instructed the man before turning to the soldier standing behind her. “Ghost, put the pressure on the wound! I’ll tourniquet it!”

He kneeled beside the writhing hostage, putting pressure on it with a torn piece of cloth D’Arcy had prepared. His eyes glided over to how efficient she was. Within a second she had pulled out her windlass tourniquet and tied it on the hostage’s arm a few centimeters above his wound. She checked his condition, making sure his airway was clear, his breathing normal, and his circulation was fine before moving on to checking his blood loss.

“Condition stable, blood lost in an acceptable range,” D’Arcy muttered. She glanced at the man before speaking in Russian, telling him how she’d take out the bullet. The man nodded and they talked for a while as she prepared her tools.

Ghost watched as she talked all the way to retrieving the bullet inside the man’s arm, chattering and moving wildly, a stark difference from her back at the base. So noisy in an emergency, just like a canary in a mine. Now he could see where her nickname came from.

After making sure the man was stable and the others weren’t injured, they moved on to different houses, neutralizing enemies either in close combat or through their silenced guns, until they arrived at an abandoned store with a rusted and broken ladder on its side.

“I’ll go first,” Ghost offered, and she nodded.

He slung his rifle back and climbed up, moving agile enough for the ladder to not fully collapse under his weight. He then jumped onto the cement roof, grunting as he almost stepped on a dead rat.

D’Arcy was next, and when she almost reached the top, he offered his hand. Without hesitation, she took it, clasping it hard as he lifted her.

“Thanks.” She stepped onto the roof and let go of his hand before wiping her dirty knees. Ghost just nodded before looking around the roof, mentally noting which location would be perfect for their nest. As he did that, he reported back.

“Got to the roof.”

‘Great. Their reinforcement should arrive in 5. Keep an eye for them,’ Laswell said.

Ghost and D’Arcy started setting up their sniper rifles beside each other on the ledge he thought would be the best spot and started waiting.

It turns out that 5 minutes is a long time. They waited for the Konni in silence, unmoving, feeling the second stretched into minutes as the wind blew nearby trees and short grasses alongside D’Arcy’s hair. They were used to it, but Ghost took the opportunity to talk.

“Hey,” Ghost called out suddenly, “wanna compare shots?”

“Why?” But before he could answer, she realized why first. “You wanted to test me.”

“Great use of that head of yours.”

“Thank you,” D’Arcy replied with a sarcastic undertone buried in that flat tone, “but just so you know, Lt., I’m not intending to take your place as the team’s sniper. Just in case you got that idea.”

“I’m not worried.” He closed his eyes. “Just interested.”

D’Arcy paused. She really couldn’t read him. But there wasn’t a downside to agreeing with him either. So fuck it.

“Okay,” she said, spying on the Konni jeeps that started rolling in. “We can do that.”

As the two got the okay to fire, the Konni quickly realized they were fucked. D’Arcy looked down her scope, and one, two, three were down at the same moment Ghost took another two. The battle was one-sided with the two snipers getting back-up from Price, Gaz, and Soap who were much closer.

She reloaded her gun as she took cover, glancing at Ghost who got another kill, the thought of the face under that mask passing through her head again. But she didn’t entertain it, preferring to go back, sniping a driver, causing the car to hit a tree and combust, getting her count to go up by four.

Within a few minutes, all the incoming Konni were down, and the two snipers had their scores. Ghost, of course, overwhelmingly topped her numbers, gunning down double what she did.

D’Arcy lowered her scope first and glanced at the man beside her. “Your win, sir,” she said. “Told you I’m nothing compared to the Ghost.” Without waiting for his answer, she clicked on her comm to report to Price. “Area cleared. No incoming hostiles. All hostages here are also stable.”

‘Great,’ Price answered, ‘check the ones down here, we got some injured. Ghost will cover you.’

“Rog.” She turned her comm off and stood up, this time finally looking down at the tall man. “Nice working with you, Ghost.”

“Same to you, mate.”

As she jumped over the roof to the lower houses, he glanced at her again, his thoughts unspoken.

***

“Parmentier!”

D’Arcy looked up from the old woman’s chart and turned to face her fellow Medical Sergeant, waving at her from outside the door, rushing in with a phone in his hand.

“Got a call for you.”

She accepted the phone. “From?”

“Task Force 141. Captain Price.”

“Really?” She raised an eyebrow and leaned to the receiver. Sure enough, the other side of it buzzed alive with Price’s voice.

“Canary.”

“Captain.”

“Hopefully you’re not in another ODA?”

“No, sir.” She looked down at the chart on her hand again. “Just have been working in an emergency room. Is there something urgent? Another hostage situation?”

D’Arcy could overhear Soap faintly laughing in the background, calling her name, who was eventually silenced by Gaz.

“Not quite. It’s not a hostage one, but we could still use your help,” Price said before pausing, and someone on the other end said something that made him grunt. “We need another sniper who can do some R&R in my usual bar in London after. Someone’s request.”

She blinked, once, twice, not believing what she just heard. Thoughts of who this ‘someone’ was passed through her mind, and she huffed at the thought itself, not truly believing he would want them to meet again.

D’Arcy nodded, smiling. “Of course, sir. With honor.”

***

Bonus Scene

“Who do you think is the best sniper aside from you, Lt.?”

“D’Arcy.”

“Canary?” Soap blinked. “Hell, not even a pause?” But even with the shocked look he gave, Ghost still didn’t budge from his answer. “She sure does leave an impression on you, sir.”

“That so?” He glanced at the Sergeant.

“Well, you don’t easily say one can be compared to you,” he said, “why anyway?”

They’d only worked together for one mission, and yet Ghost had seemingly taken an impression on her. Was she really that good? It was unfortunate Soap didn’t get to work with her directly, but hearing how she managed to save every hostage in that situation was impressive. Was that why?

“Her ponytail.”

Soap was stunned for a second. There was no way he would predict that answer.

“C’mon. You’re kidding.”

He crossed his arms, waddling his point finger. “Have you seen the way it sways when she walks?”

“I mean,” Soap thought over it for a second, “it’s mesmerizing, I’ll give you that.”

“Right.” Ghost closed his eyes. “You also oughta see her when she’s treating someone. Relentless. No wonder Price picked her for the last mission.”

“Ah.” He smiled wider, holding back his laugh. So that was the real reason. “Got it.”

SURPRISE Itsuki x Letifaire

—Itsuki joined Zeliska to 'prank' Letifaire. It wasn't really what he expected.

; #.ymfmop24 ; happy birthday itsuki!! <3 ; #itsufaire

***

Gun Gale Online didn’t do April Fools. The game took itself seriously and it wasn’t like Itsuki cared about the foolish celebrations of the day anyway. So when Zeliska came up to him to ask him to join her in pranking someone, he was inclined to join—until of course, Zeliska mentioned the person she was pranking was Letifaire.

He immediately canceled his raid and took the elevator to Letifaire’s room with the woman. Inside the quiet elevator, Itsuki could only sigh, glancing at Zeliska who seemed amused by something.

“You know how to get me to join you, huh?” He glanced at her, smiling his usual shallow smile.

Zeliska chuckled, Daisy standing next to her in silence. “Sometimes you can be just a little bit too predictable, Itsuki-kun.”

As soon as they got in front of her door, Zeliska called in to say she was there and Letifaire opened the door for them remotely. Inside, her ArFA-sys, Cifre, lounged with his master on the couch, busy calibrating his AI’s setting. She looked up when the two walked into her peripheral vision, smiling.

“Hello, Zeliska-san,” she said, “oh, I didn’t know Itsuki would also come.”

“I hope you don’t mind me being here,” he said as casually as possible, trying to cover how his stomach churned when he saw that smile, a chuckle escaping his lips. Damn, he couldn’t keep it straight whenever he was around her.

“I invited him to make it more fun.” Zeliska walked up to Letifaire and turned towards Daisy. “Daisy, can you pull out that item?”

“Right away, Master.”

As Daisy searched for the item Zeliska mentioned in her inventory, she talked with Cifre, while Letifaire walked up to the two players.

“So, what is this about?” she asked. “It’s not often you two come here if not for a raid or mission.”

Itsuki glanced at Zeliska who was still smiling. Crap, he was so interested in meeting Letifaire that he forgot to ask what the prank exactly was. She better not hurt her in any way.

“Actually, I just made something I think you would like,” Zeliska said, ignoring Itsuki’s dagger stares, “you said you were searching for a new outfit the other day, right?”

A small spark lit up in her eyes, something that Itsuki didn’t miss. “Yes, did you find any?”

Daisy finally came over and sent an item to Letifaire. “Here’s the outfit Master made, Letifaire-san.”

“You made it yourself?” She accepted the outfit and turned to Zeliska. “Can I really try it on?”

“Of course!” She smiled. “Tell me if you like it, okay?”

She nodded eagerly and walked to her bedroom to try the outfit out, leaving Zeliska and Itsuki with Cifre and Daisy who were busy talking again about how Zeliska could make outfits in GGO.

Meanwhile, Itsuki started to wonder what Zeliska’s deal was. He looked at the woman, starting to question her idea of a ‘prank’.

“Zeliska is this part of your—”

Itsuki’s words were cut off by Letifaire’s yell.

“Zeliska-san! Is the outfit you were talking about?”

Letifaire marched out of her bedroom in a mermaid cocktail dress, something Itsuki never thought he’d see her in. The maroon dress was cut perfectly for her avatar, with the off-shoulder cut and slit that showcased her left leg as she walked. The white necklace matched the cool white tone of her hair, while the black heels with red soles also enhanced the dress greatly.

“Hehe, April Fools!” Zeliska clapped her hands together, beaming with joy. “How do you like it? Pretty, right?”

“Master, you’re so pretty!” Cifre added in, beaming and coming over to Letifaire. “Is this some kind of special outfit for something?”

“Not you too, Cifre,” she sighed, “but yes, it’s called a cocktail dress. I don’t know if it exists in GGO, but it’s a formal dress used for fancy parties and special occasions… and I-I never wore something like this before,” she mumbled. Even in real life, she was always more into something practical, so a floor-length dress like this felt too fancy, too beautiful for someone like her. “Zeliska-san,” she muttered in embarrassment again, “you tricked me!”

“Aw, don’t be like that, Letifaire-chan,” the woman glanced at Itsuki who was blushing. “She looks great in it, right? Itsuki?”

He snapped out of his trance and covered his eyes for a second, trying not to ogle. “I-it’s… nice.” He cleared his throat. “It looks great on you, Letifaire.”

“D-does it?” She stammered, her heart racing with those words.

“Absolutely.” He glanced at her. He sure didn’t get any birthday present for today, but this… he thought this was also enough. She lifted her head and her eyes met his. She turned even more red, which only invited a bigger smile from him.

“Anyway, I’m gonna change—!” She clutched the necklace on the dress and started walking away. “I’ll return it to you quickly! I don’t deserve an outfit like this!”

Even when she was stomping off to her bedroom in embarrassment, Itsuki couldn’t look away from the exposed back of the dress, holding back a blush. “What a prank, though it was a bit tame,” he muttered. His heartbeat was skyrocketing, but he tried to not let it show.

But Zeliska chuckled at his words. “Oh, you thought I was only pranking her?” She pushed back her hair. “I think I also managed to prank someone into seeing his crush dressing up all nice on his birthday, and maybe get some ideas on how to celebrate it.”

Itsuki sneered the moment he realized her words, narrowing his eyes. “You’re sly.”

“And you’re easy to read.” Zeliska returned that smile. “I’ll convince her to keep the dress, so take her somewhere nice, okay, Itsuki?

FREUDIAN AMBUSH V.I Freud x C4-621 Raven

—Raven wasn’t amused by how V.I Freud ambushed her just because he was interested in her ability. She also wasn’t amused at how he said he’d be waiting for their next fight, especially because he saw her out of her AC the next time he did it again.

; takes place around early chapter 4 ; canon divergent ; #fren

◇

woooogh unhinged battle-obsessed cogil freud my beloved

***

It wasn’t usual for a more or less ordinary mercenary to be contacted—well, ambushed—by the top of the Vespers, so when 621 sensed a red blip on the radar as she was waiting to get picked up, she never expected it to be Freud.

‘Raven.’ Ayre’s voice echoed within her mind.

The Rubiconian has kept syncing her brainwave with her since her match with Balteus and she appreciated it greatly. When Raven hung out in the garage, they often just had a girl talk about random things, and in battle, Ayre even helped with identifying unknown crafts, just like now.

‘Unknown AC is approaching at a rapid rate. It’s not clear if it’s another hostile, but please be careful.’

“Mhm, I can see it too,” Raven hummed, her fingers running through her hair for a second before settling down on the control again. “On my 7 o’clock—”

Right as she prepared her quick turn, a laser blade grazed her behind, fortunately not close enough to stagger her. She breathed a sigh of relief for a second, her eyes analyzing the dark blue and black AC slowly descending.

V.I Freud. The leader of the Vespers, the number one.

She had never seen him before but had heard of him from the Arena database and off-handedly mentioned by V.II Snail. Unlike the second-in-command, Freud is just a normal human with no augmentation whatsoever, and yet, he’s strong. Quite strong, in fact, that she struggled fighting him in the simulation and spent a few days mulling over PLUME’s loadout before finally beating his simulated AC on the brink of her 67th retry.

“I can’t catch you off-guard, huh?” His voice crackled through the comm. “Now I see why he talked about you.”

He didn’t need to know what she went through to get to this level with him.

Ayre gasped. ‘Based on his AC, he’s V.I Freud of the Vespers. What is he doing here?’

Before Raven could answer, Walter’s comms came in.

“621, are you engaging with V.I? I thought Arquebus gave the infiltration mission to us.”

“Beats me,” she said to both of them. She unleashed her moonlight blade twice, which he dodged easily, before patching into the Vesper’s comm. “I didn’t think I would see the top of Vespers hanging out near a PCA-occupied base.”

“I’d rather hang out back in the garage.” He laughed. “No, I searched out for you since I was curious.”

“Oh.” Lacking any reason to be surprised, Raven quick boosted out of his attack and prepared a counter with her Zimmerman. “You sound like a stalker.”

“Not surprised?”

“Should I?” She tilted her head, piloting her AC backward to dodge his turrets. “I have read your Arena’s bio.”

He sighed, but it wasn’t tinged with disappointment.

“And I’ve seen the footage from Operation Wallclimber and the Ice Worm mission,” he said, “your movements are graceful, to say the least. That kind of emphasis on verticality is fascinating. Especially the way you float and control your AC’s thrust midair just to fall back…” She could hear the grin in his voice. “Raven, is that why you call your AC PLUME?”

She didn’t appreciate her sense of naming getting interrogated. She lightly frowned, raining her laser rifle upon him. It was one of the only things she could see as her ‘hobby’ in her new life.

“Do you not have better things to do?”

“For the moment, no,” he said, even though she could hear the echoing sound of incoming comms from his side.

Raven was starting to get annoyed by Freud’s insistence. “Walter,” she said to the handler, “if his AC got destroyed here, will he bill you as Michigan did?”

Not able to dodge fast enough, Freud’s bazooka hit her, staggering the white AC for a few seconds in the air as she took the time to think over her next movements.

“I didn’t know you can be cocky too,” he said as she finally recovered.

“No, I’m just prepared.” This time she dodged right and avoided his turret’s lasers before shooting them down. “So, Walter?” She asked again.

“He won’t,” Walter answered. “It’s better just to disengage and go back, 621. He’s the top of the Vesper. It won’t do you much good if you need to repair your AC because of this fight.”

‘Raven, V.I Freud is the top of the Arena, so taking him on might be risky…’

“I know,” she whispered, responding to Ayre before sighing and talking louder. “But that wouldn’t shake him off us.” She descended and switched to her lance again, her voice going far lower than her collar was accustomed to. “I’ll finish him here.”

“That’s more like it.” She could hear him smiling through the comm. “Come now, Raven! Show me how fun you can be!”

She sighed, pushing her AC into a quick boost and aiming her shotgun at the remaining turrets. Her AC’s reverse jointed leg grazed the ground and threw snow all around, almost masking her fully.

But Freud looked through her attempt to fool him and shot his bazooka at her.

Raven barely dodged and pulled back, using her second repair kit. She then composed another plan and flew up to regain her footing while switching to her moonlight blade.

They fought for a while, and even though they were almost an even match, Freud managed to sneak in more and more hits onto her, causing her to sigh as the COM announced she had hit 30% AP remaining, forcing her to use her repair kit.

‘No repair kits remaining.’

She floated down to the ground, her gaze gliding over her remaining ammunition and counting how much she had spent so far. She didn’t want to spend too many credits, after all, undoing her surgery would cost quite a lot.

“Hesitating?” He perked up at her silence. “You’re not as aggressive as I thought you would be.”

“Because so far you’ve given me no reason to,” she said, “but now I have to make this quick.”

With an assault boost, she flew right at him and kicked his AC, staggering his movement before bombing him with Songbirds and lancing him through. Her movement turned much swifter, as in the next second, she aimed the Zimmerman point blank at him and kicked his AC down thudding backward onto the snowy ground before using assault armor followed by two slashes from the moonlight blade to finish him.

Freud’s AC—LOCKSMITH—fell into a wreck on the snowy ground, and Raven watched on as the man chuckled uncontrollably, savoring every bit of dopamine he got from their fight.

“Checking you up was the best decision I could’ve made.” He sighed. “I never expected you to be this good,” he paused, “is it because you’re Handler Walter’s hound or are you just really this good no matter who you are loyal to?”

His question went unanswered as she was too busy pondering why he knew she was under Walter’s care. Stalker, the word echoed in her mind again. But he didn’t seem to mind and continued talking.

“Fight me again another time?” he asked, the smile in his voice too apparent for her to ignore.

She went silent for a second before turning away at the sight of the helicopter picking her up. “I will have to see my schedule.”

“I’ll be waiting.” His voice echoed before his comm faded out with a blip.

621 scowled as she was getting picked up into the garage. What’s with the Vespers and their members? They’re all weird.

***

When Freud said he’d be waiting for her, she didn’t know it would be literally.

621 jumped out her AC and slid down the core before landing softly on the snow. Despite her weak constitution, her body ‘kept up with her augmentation quite well’ and she took advantage of that by going out once in a while. Out of the garage, out of her AC.

The snowy blanket welcomed her legs. The light armor on her pilot suit helped dampen the cold at times like this. She then started walking towards the cliff’s edge, lifting her legs with each step so she wouldn’t fall face first.

She often just came out here and hung out. With everything going on, she needed alone time, even from Ayre. She liked her, but sometimes you just need some alone time, and she could get it here. Standing over the snowy mountains of Belius, all she could see was white, calming, and isolating—the only home she ever knew.

She exhaled and closed her eyes.

Calm. Away from the corporates and the fight with the RLF. Calm. No responsibilities, jobs, or worrying fights against the Institute relics. Calm. Between the snowy mountains and the clear sky, she was all alone. Calm.

Until a masculine voice echoed behind her.

“I never expected to be able to look at the famous Raven without her AC.”

Raven froze in place. Without her AC, she was more than weaker, with no weapons in her hands, she definitely wouldn’t be able to win against someone in a fight. Her first instinct was to rush to her AC, but considering where that voice came from, she didn’t think she would make it in time.

So she needed to fight rather than flight.

She turned around, facing the tall brown-haired man, eyeing him up. He smiled, eyes narrowed with the intent of looking friendly, but even Raven who had lost all her memory could still tell that the smile masked something else. The two small silver hoops on his right ear glinted under the sun as the wind blew his small ponytail, tied so carelessly she was sure the small hair tie could snap at any moment.

“A scavenger bird, far from her turf,” he hummed, his hands inside his faded blue hoodie pockets, a small faded ‘Arquebus’ logo on its left chest. “Aren’t you afraid of getting lost?”

She then realized that she knew that voice.

“You’re starting to be a stalker,” Raven said. “Should I report you to Snail?”

Freud laughed, brushing off the snow stuck to his hair. “I don’t think that guy would care.”

He was right. That company-devoted man would never see her as more than a mutt and would never take anything she said seriously.

“Either way,” she said, “I’m not fighting you in hand-to-hand combat.”

“I’m not interested in that anyway.” He lifted his hand, rough with callouses and bandages, mostly covering his fingers. “It’s only fun when the fight involves AC.”

Raven wrapped her arms around her bomber jacket, pulling it closer, and her eyes fell onto his. Piercing, questioning. “Did you mean to ambush me?”

“Yes.” He didn’t seem to have any inclination to lie. “I was hoping for another fun fight.”

“Fun…”

She still didn’t understand him. She didn’t understand fun or joy on a deeper level, but this certainly wasn’t fun for most people. It’s not fun for her. It’s just a job.

He walked up, his stride long and confident, and she finally noticed how she fell quite short of him, unlike her with Iguazu. Freud was lankier, though a bit hunched. Just like her, he wore his pilot suit, but over it, he wore a dark blue hoodie. Even though it was branded with the Arquebus logo, it not only faded, but was also dirty with stains and dirt.

Freud stopped beside her and whistled as he fixed his hair tie. “The scenery here is breathtaking. Can’t believe this isn’t even the highest peak,” he said, “do you always come here?”

“Yes. It’s my base.”

He laughed, glancing sideways at her. “Your second base, then. Garage is always the number one for us pilots.”

“Right.”

No need to remind her.

“If you don’t need anything else, can you just go?” She turned to face him. “It’s my base. I want some alone time.”

But he just looked down at her with that unchanging ‘friendly’ smile and he was starting to creep her out.

“Go away,” she repeated herself.

Freud still didn’t move, and Raven thought that she would rather face down Balteus than meet his unyielding emerald eyes ever again.

She clicked her tongue. “Did you he—”

Suddenly, Freud reached out for her collar. She gripped his wrist halfway through, her nails digging into his rough skin, her coral-red veins fading in with the force.

“What are you doing?” Raven gritted her teeth.

Of course, she knew he was much stronger than her in the physical aspect, considering how he was a normal human, but she still cocked her head up, glaring right at him. If she needed to kill him with bare hands, she would still do it.

“Your collar.” He chuckled lowly, a small fire amidst the snow. “You look even more like a dog with it on.”

“I know that already,” she barked. “And you can point that out without touching me.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” He tilted his hand and moved his hand to the side, bringing her hand with his. “I was just… getting even more curious.” He peered into her dark eyes, his green ones glinting under the peeking sunlight.

“You’re an old-gen, right? Your body felt cold, and your skin,” he raised his hand, glancing down at the back of hers still latching onto him, “your vein is filled with coral.”

She gritted her teeth. He was starting to get on her nerves.

“Fascinating. Just fascinating,” he mumbled, “you know, I’ve never fought someone from your gen before, and you’re great. Your moves are like nothing else. I couldn’t stop watching your records while I fixed LOCKSMITH.” He continued. “I read up, and most fourth gen is in a catatonic state. But you’re nothing like a hound on life support.”

There was a brief pause, then Freud nodded to himself. “Well, no matter what gen, augmented humans are still augmented, hm?” He laughed, seemingly impressed by his own… joke?

“I don’t have time for this,” Raven said, her voice starting to crackle and waver, “what are you getting at?”

“Just some minor assessment.” He smiled without elaborating more on that front. “I was planning to fight you, you know? I modified him today to fight against your annoying combo. Too bad you’re taking a break right now.” He gestured back with his head to the area behind him.

She looked behind the tall man and LOCKSMITH, his AC was nestled between some trees, not enough to fully mask it but enough to cover it up if PCA suddenly patrolled the area.

“I’m still wondering how you can be that good.” He put his hands inside his hoodie pocket, looking down at her with that… fake smile again. She hated that smile. She hated people who still put on a face even though they have an identity. A real one.

“Will you be even better if you join the Vespers? I can give you a recommendation if you want in.”

“No,” she replied without missing a beat. She once wondered if the Vespers would let her in, make her into the V.IX of theirs, but now, after watching the Rubiconians struggle against the corporations… the feeling in her stomach caused her to rethink that again.

“That’s too bad.” He shook his head. “If you’re part of the Vespers, then I would be able to spar with you every day,” he said, “but no matter. There’ll always be plenty of chances.”

Raven groaned. This guy… he planned to ambush her again, didn’t he?

“Why?” Her word was straight to the point as she craned her head and glared at him.

Freud tilted his head down to match her eye level, and she could see the remnants of oils sticking on his neck and collar. “Do I need a deep reason? I just find piloting and fighting against you fun. You didn’t bore me in our last battle, after all.”

His words were solemn, not one chuckle or grin slipped with them. And at that moment, she realized the Arena’s data wasn’t lying. Freud was just someone obsessed with fighting and improving his piloting—and his AC. He was just a normal human and a damn good pilot, and ambushing her was just another way of trying to better himself.

“You know you’re annoying, right?” She glared at him.

“Snail has told me that too many times to count.” And he looked proud about that, brushing his fingers on his ear piercings with a small smile. “But why should I care about strategy and other bullshit when I can just focus on LOCKSMITH and finding new opponents to fight?”

“Because you’re the top of the Vespers?”

“Pssh, it shouldn’t come with any responsibilities.” He waved his hand. “Battle prowess is battle prowess. Why does it have to do anything with managing troops?”

Raven stood in silence listening to his words. She couldn’t wait to collect enough money to undo her surgeries and regain her old identity again, so she could be far from this battle-obsessed weirdo.

Freud scoffed, looking up at the cloud passing over the sun. “Besides, once you find a worthy opponent, you’ll discover just how fun piloting an AC could be. It’ll give you extra motivation on pushing up those increments, more reason to get those parts just right.”

He turned towards her and tugged on her collar, moving too fast for her to intercept. Her eyes widened as she choked. He leaned forward and towered over her with his height, lifting her slightly off the ground with her collar.

“You’ve been a worthy opponent, Raven.” He grinned, his eyes glinting with passion. “So make sure you’ll always be one to me, okay?”

GANACHE Alhaitham x Lubanna

—Nahida dragged Lubanna to join a Valentine's event where she needed to make some red wine chocolate truffles to ‘give to someone she cares about’.

She knew this was just Nahida’s way of forcing her into celebrating Alhaitham's birthday and Valentine's. Still, she went along with it. And it was the worst mistake she made this month.

; grad student au ; mentions of alcohol , a bit suggestive towards the end ; trickster nahida lol ; #hanna

***

Neither Alhaitham nor Lubanna really celebrated holidays or birthdays. They just thought it was a mere formality and their energy should be directed to something more important, like Lubanna’s current research under Professor Nahida, a famed professor in her major.

And Lubanna thought Nahida would agree when she ran into both Alhaitham and her yesterday, where she mentioned her boyfriend’s birthday was on the 11th, handwaving any celebration. He too agreed that it was unnecessary, so why would Nahida think differently?

“I mean… is this really important? Necessary?” Lubanna looked down at the recipe book in her hand, skimming past the pages about vegetable cakes and cookies with a grim expression.

“Absolutely!” Nahida laughed. “It’s just truffles, so it shouldn’t take away much from your research!”

The professor stood in front of her, clasping her hands. According to her, she’s currently running a ‘fun Valentine's event’ where she gave students under her a recipe book she recommended and assigned each a recipe they must recreate, and in her words:

“Give it to someone you care about! After all, Valentine's is all about expressing your love!”

It wasn’t like Lubanna hated Valentine's or anything, she’s just not bothered to celebrate it, so she enjoyed seeing events like what Nahida held. But not when she’s forced to join one.

Nahida said she wasn’t just asking Lubanna, and Wanderer, a bachelor’s student and her… adopted child or something similar, also walked by the library this morning looking puzzled over a book just like the one she received, so at least she wasn’t lying about that.

“Right,” she drawled. She didn’t know about her and Wanderer, but she knew Nahida was just trying to make her celebrate Valentine's Day and Alhaitham’s birthday. How cunning.

“I’m not that versed at baking, though…”

Lubanna wasn’t lying. She has been living mostly alone after getting out of the orphanage, but she has always made simple or practical foods, nothing like intricate cakes or certainly like a red wine chocolate truffle.

“Truffles should be easy enough as long as you understand the basics of cooking!” She smiled with her eyes closed again, not saying anything else.

There’s no room for rejection, then.

“Fine, Professor Nahida,” she sighed before smiling. “I’ll play along.”

Nahida chuckled. “I believe in you, Lubanna! And don’t forget to tell me the results!”

Results, huh? Lubanna chuckled, shaking her head as Nahida walked away. When the professor was out of her sight, she finally returned to the library and went to the table she was sitting in with Alhaitham.

As per usual, they were discussing a book they read, this time, a recently translated second part of a book collection about visions. In the afternoons they don’t have classes, they often just hang out in the discussion section of the campus library and talk quietly. Far quieter than times before this so the librarian won’t have to threaten to kick them out again.

Alhaitham looked up from his book, pulled down his headphones, and glanced at her. “What was that about?”

“Nothing much.” She slipped the book inside her bag. Nahida didn’t say it needed to be a surprise, but she would try to get an edge over him in whatever she could, even if it was just about a Valentine and birthday gift.

She then realized he now had his books, aside from the one in his hand, all tucked back inside his bag.

“You’re going somewhere?”

“I’ll go with Kaveh and the others for a while.”

“An outing, hm?” She chuckled. “To the bar?”

“Too early for that.” He picked up his bag and draped it on his shoulder. “Cyno wants to try this new card game at the arcade.”

“I see,” she said. She watched as he stood up from his chair, propping his headphones back up again, leaned down, and gave Lubanna a peck on her left cheek, with which she returned happily.

Most would say that Alhaitham wasn’t someone who likes PDAs, and they would be right, as they don’t even think this is one. This was just a compromise, something they do to make them look more like a couple to others since most didn’t believe him when he said he had a girlfriend.

“Drop by at 8.” She tapped his shoulder as he stood back up. “I have something to give to you.”

He looked down at her with a confused look, but he just nodded before walking away, leaving Lubanna with bated breath.

Okay, she should be able to do it. She still has seven hours to buy the ingredients and cook or bake them. Whatever. She hasn’t even looked through the recipe yet, but she was sure it would be smooth sailing, as it was, after all, just a truffle.

And she was half right. Buying and collecting the ingredients was easy and only took two hours of shopping and driving around, but there were still rough patches.

She put her hands on the counter, looking over the ingredients and glancing back at the recipe book to see if she left something out.

“Don’t use chocolate chips…” She read over the notes in the recipe book. “That’s sorted.”

It went on for a few minutes, with her preparing each ingredient and making sure it was all portioned out. Finally, she carefully pulled a bottle of wine from her bag before putting it on the counter. It was a nice one, imported and aged for around 15 years. It was… expensive to say the least, but Lubanna thought she’d keep the rest for their anniversary. She then looked around in her now empty bag, searching for something.

“Where’s the…” She groaned in frustration as she realized she left the corkscrew back at the store. “Damn it.”

Lubanna glared at the wine bottle before hitting her head on the counter, lightly. She couldn’t go back to the store and get home in time to finish the chocolate, so she… had to improvise.

Pulling out a scissor from its drawer, she loomed over the wine, her hazel iris boring into it as she wielded the scissor on her right hand, holding its grip hard enough to make it creak.

“Don’t struggle. You’ll only make this take longer.”

***

At 8 PM, Lubanna had finished tempering, creating the chocolate mold, freezing the ganache, and sealing the ganache within the chocolate. All that was left was to wait for it to fully set, clean the kitchen, change clothes—

But her front doorbell already rang.

Cursing under her breath, Lubanna walked to the door and opened it with an awkward chuckle. Her usual braids were unmade, and her hair was messy from the bun she put them in. She still wore the white blouse from this morning with its sleeve rolled to her elbows, but over it, she wore a white apron that was more than lightly stained by red—reeking of wine.

Alhaitham who was standing in front of her with his usual turtleneck and coat, crossed his arms. “Let me guess, you’re not finished yet with the thing you’re going to give me?”

“Just another ten minutes.” She opened the door for him and let him inside. “There was some… miscalculation.”

“Really unlike you.”

“I was rushed.” She ignored his sarcasm, closed the door behind him, and walked together to her cozy living room. It was smaller than Alhaitham and Kaveh's open space apartment, but it felt perfectly at home to her. “Just relax for a while. Check out this philosophy book I just got yesterday.” She pulled out a book from the bookshelves behind the couch and put it on the table in front of it, smiling.

He sat down, looking up at her with a cold stare, his usual. “It better be good, then.”

“I assure you, it will.” She grinned back before walking away to the kitchen.

After around ten minutes of trying her best to get the truffles out of their molds and setting them up as close as she could to the examples, Lubanna called off her apron, fixed her hair, and walked into the living room, putting the beautifully decorated and plated red wine chocolate truffles on the table.

Alhaitham looked at them for a second. “Chocolates?”

“Truffles,” she said, “and it’s not that sweet.”

“Is it safe to eat?”

“Ha-ha. Of course. Here, I’ll eat one first.” Lubanna grabbed one and put it in front of his face, booping it onto his nose. “So you won’t think these are poisoned.” She put it in her mouth and gestured ‘see?’ to him before shrugging and finally biting into the ganache, breaking the chocolate mold.

Alhaitham looked up at his girlfriend with a sigh, then popped one in his mouth, chewing silently before raising an eyebrow. “Are you trying to get me tipsy?”

“No, I—”

Lubanna blinked, standing agape as she finally realized the chocolate that melted in her mouth tasted almost purely wine.

Crap. Nahida knew Lubanna didn’t know much about baking. Did she give her the recipe with the most alcohol content? What kind of faulty recipe was that?!

She choked on the chocolate before clearing her throat, glaring at him. Is he in on any of this? She wouldn’t be surprised if he was.

“Ugh, I bet you knew this, didn’t you?” She clicked her tongue. The wine she used for the recipe was nice, but this amount… This amount was too much. She should’ve cross-checked the recipe before making it…

His expression was unreadable like always. He crossed his legs, closing the book in his hand. “If you wanna get me tipsy then you should’ve just bought me a bottle straight, not try to trick me like this.”

“Like hell,” she huffed, “I’d never stoop that low.”

“So you won’t stoop that low but you’ll stoop low enough to slip this inside my book?” Between his index and middle finger, he held a golden-gilded card with a message she was sure she didn’t write.

She scrambled to sit beside him on the couch and pulled the card out of his hand to read it.

‘Your present is me.’

…this must’ve also been her work.

“You know I wouldn’t write something like this.” She waved the card, pouting, unimpressed. “Printed, gilded, and with this amount of perfume?”

He closed his eyes. “The possibility alone is amusing enough.”

She slammed the card on the table, glaring at him. “You’ve been in cahoots with Nahida since the beginning, aren’t you?”

Alhaitham shrugged, putting his book down and turning to face her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Liar.”

“No, I really don’t,” he said, inching towards and slowly towering over. “I only connected the dots when I came in.”

Lubanna’s eyes widened for a second before she huffed, grabbing another piece of truffle and pressing it against his lips. “So I guess you win again this time,” she said, “don’t get cocky, though. I only let you have this because it’s for your birthday.”

He flashed her the briefest smile before biting halfway into the chocolate, letting the ganache run down her fingers. “And valentine.”

She rolled her eyes, chuckling. “And valentine. Sure. Happy both of those.” Pulling her hand back, licked the remaining ganache on her fingers.

“The truffles are already filled with wine, but let’s just drink from the bottle,” he said, “I assume you have it?”

Changes of plan, then.

“Of course.” She stood up and started walking towards the kitchen again, before stopping midway. “Oh, also, if you’re staying the night, don’t forget to text Kaveh.”

He shrugged, phone on hand. “Already did.”

“That was fast.”

“Can’t waste a good bottle of wine,” he hummed before eating another truffle and throwing her a glance, “not like this.”

Lubanna sighed, shaking her head as she chuckled. Guess there’ll be no time for her to clean up the kitchen, then. This is going to be a long night…

***

The next day, Lubanna rushed to find Nahida, who was casually standing in the hallway, talking with a student. But as soon as she realized Lubanna was coming, she dismissed the student and turned to face the angry woman.

“Professor, yesterday’s recipe–!”

“Good morning, Lubanna!” She smiled and clasped her hand. “It went well, right?”

She blushed slightly. “Huh? How do you–”

“Doesn’t matter!” Nahida said. She then winked at her before walking away. “You’re welcome. Keep the book.”

“P-professor?! PROFESSOR NAHIDAAA!”

//PRETTY FACE G5 Iguazu x C4-621 Raven

G5 Iguazu was pissed off that Raven—yes, the same Raven that betrayed and kicked his ass at the dam mission and accidentally assault boosted him to the ground—was also… pretty. And he was even more pissed off at himself that he accidentally said that out loud.

; takes place after the dam complex alt ; romcom vibe?!?!? :0 ; #iguaven

***

G5 Iguazu hated Raven so much. She came out of nowhere, a stray dog tagalong that betrayed them for the Rubicon Liberation Front in the dam complex mission, wrecking Iguazu and Volta ACs so badly that Michigan almost saw it fit to put them out of their misery entirely.

But, in an attempt to make sure the three could play nice, Michigan decided to send them on another ‘field trip’ together. This time, to a secluded valley where the newest shipments of RLF's MT are stored. They would just need to sneak in and destroy them, which should be ‘far less complex than taking over a dam’.

Volta got excused just because he didn’t get mad when he saw Raven’s name on the briefing, leaving Iguazu cursing under his breath as Michigan berated him with that annoying dog listening in, and ending his briefing by saying he was going to be busy smooching the higher-ups about the dam, thus forcing him to be alone with Raven.

Iguazu bit his thumb. He just had to have the worst luck, couldn’t he? First, he got augmented because of that bad gamble, and even now, he has to deal with this stray dog that just does things better than him despite them being the same generation.

“Where is she anyway?”

He clicked his tongue, gazing over the scenery in front of him. Blankets of snow covered most of what he could see, and the trees were dead with most toppling to the side from the harsh wind around this part. According to the intel, the buildings were snuggled just across the freezing lake he was standing on, but he couldn’t just rush forward now, he needed to wait for her first.

Just as he started thinking about her again, she dropped down onto the ice, her white AC frame gilding onto it, the lightweight build almost cementing her AC name; PLUME.

“Iguazu.” She called out through the comms. “You’re ready?”

“Far more than you.” He immediately dashed forward, leaving her behind.

Raven just hummed, following behind him and preparing her linear rifle and shotgun without saying anything.

They rushed into the building quite fast. The rows and rows of MTs inside were mostly inactive, save for a dozen that are being tested out by some pilots. After gunning the inactive ones down, they kited them onto the frozen lake for more room.

Using her reverse-jointed legs, Raven easily took them down from above while monitoring incoming MTs rushing in.

“On your 4,” she said.

“I know, stray dog.” He gritted his teeth, downing another MT coming his way. He had his own radar, he didn’t need her to tell him that!

And so their field trip continued for a few more minutes, with Iguazu mainly taking the MT rushing from the bottom while Raven stayed in the air to eliminate drones and the few MTs with shields until there were only a few left. Raven shot down a drone and boosted up to slash another one. She hummed. According to her radar, that should be all.

“621, you missed one,” Walter’s voice echoed from her comms, directing her eyes to an MT on her far left.

“Oh.”

Forgetting she was with a company, she assault boosted forward towards the last red blip, not realizing how close it was to Iguazu. She slammed into him, but the force of her boost kept her on trajectory while his AC toppled prone onto the ice, causing a loud thud.

“SHIT! Fuck!” He yelled. “Help me back up, stray dog!”

“Oh, sorry,” she replied, realizing what just happened. She slashed down the MT she was aiming for before quick turning to where he fell. “I forgot you were that close.”

“Of course you do! A stray dog like you wouldn’t understand teamwork!” He yelled. “That’s why you betrayed us back in the dam!”

Ignoring his rambling, she purged her linear rifle and used her now empty AC’s right arm to offer a helping hand to HEAD BRINGER—Iguazu’s AC.

The man grimaced, hesitant to take her AC’s hand. He has his pride, and more importantly, problems with this stray dog, so to take her help was to insult himself. At the same time, he realized he wouldn’t be able to get this 10-meter machine back up without help, not on a frozen lake.

Biting his tongue, he purged his linear rifle too and took the white AC’s hand, and she immediately pulled him back up. But the slippery ice wasn’t helping his footing, and as soon as his right leg stepped onto the ice and bits of snow, it immediately fell prone again, this time followed by a faraway cracking sound.

“Oh no,” Raven muttered and took a step back, allowing some distance between them and immediately going silent on the comm.

“YOU—!”

Before he could finish his sentence, the core of her AC slowly opened up to reveal the pilot seat.

Raven was there, running her dark hair through her hand as she focused her gaze on a screen on her right, muttering something, answering her comm. She then fiddled with the screens a bit before pulling the pilot jacket she had on the side and throwing it on.

She walked out of her core and jumped onto his AC. It helped that it was lodged firmly onto the ice, but the way she did the jump made it look effortless. She walked up the legs and stood just under his core, where his seat was, her dark hair blowing in the crisp wind and her hands in her jacket pockets.

“Open up.”

As if hypnotized, he clicked open the core without any thinking, letting the cold wind come into his seat, and Raven looked down at him from her standing position, her hair far longer than he imagined, falling around her elbow. The lower part of her hair was tidy, swept by the wind in a graceful twist, but her bangs and the top part were a bit shorter and spikier.

Her face was also soft. From the way she fought, he expected someone who looked ruthless with knitted eyebrows like Michigan, not a young woman with a rounded face and a mellow tint in her eyes. Sure she was more swift than rough, but he still didn’t expect her to have that natural captivating nature he was sure only possessed by the women in the gambling parlors he visited.

And her eyes. Shit, her eyes. The moment he laid eyes onto those dark irises, his mouth opened by itself.

“...the hell,” he said, “why are you pretty? Why… how… do you have such a pretty face? You’re a stray dog, why are you… how?”

She looked at him straight, unblinking, her pale lips parting but didn’t say anything. Only her collar crackled, unable to accurately convey the confusion in her mind.

Iguazu stayed silent too, his augmented brain stopped computing correctly. He couldn’t yell or speak more coherently, and despite his best efforts to just close the core, keep his dignity, and just try to stand his AC back up by himself, he couldn’t help but notice the small details on her face, the mole near her left eyebrow, the red veins brimming with coral down her neck and shoulders that reminded himself of his own, and most peculiar, a dog collar wrapping around her throat—

“I don’t know what to say to that,” she said after a few minutes too long. “Anyway, can you get up?”

As if nothing of importance happened, she changed the topic and offered her hand—her real hand now.

Iguazu gritted his teeth. He wanted to say he didn’t want nor need her help, but the weight of the situation came crashing down again, and he grabbed her hand with a bit more force than he should have, causing her to tumble forward.

“Be careful,” she said as she pulled him up. His hand was rough and calloused, evidence of the harsh condition in Redguns and Rubicon in general. “I’ll help HEAD BRINGER back up first then you can go in again.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “The ice is slippery here, and it’s not as tough as the dam. We’re screwed if you keep falling and the ice breaks.”

That answered the question of why she would care, but it still didn’t answer why her hand was so soft and warm. Was it just the cold?

She guided him back onto her pilot seat, scooting over to the right side so he could take a seat.

“Sit down,” she said, gesturing with her head.

Too late to back down, Iguazu took a seat begrudgingly, scooting as much to the left of the seat so he wouldn’t be so close to the woman. But with how cramped it was, his shoulder bumped hers so close he was sure he could also feel the coral running in her veins as she snuggled into her piloting position, holding the control with a relaxed stance.

And suddenly, a masculine voice echoed.

“621, navigate carefully. Be careful not to fall too.”

“Roger that.”

Shit. Iguazu forgot that Raven has her handler on comm. Hopefully, he didn’t hear what he said about her being pretty.

The realization started to dig deeper into him. He just said she has a pretty face. He just said that while tripping over his words as she looked down at him.

He facepalmed and groaned onto his hand, the warmth started climbing onto his face. He sounded like he had never seen a woman before, fuck.

But it was just that he expected her to look… more normal. Like Albany, that MT fighter he sometimes saw back at the base. She looked normal, like a normal woman, a normal Redguns member. So why, why did he exactly get flustered just from seeing Raven? What’s so different about that annoying stray dog?

Iguazu lowered his face and glanced at her at the same moment she turned to face him. Her dark iris peered into his eyes, lips pursed as she hummed in confusion. He couldn’t read her expression nor whatever hidden meaning behind her cadence every time they talked, and even now, all he could get from those narrow eyes was just that: confusion.

“Your ears are red. Are you cold?”

“Mind your own business.” Iguazu groaned, now covering his ears before looking away again.

Her handler said something about the stability of the ice, but he didn’t hear it. He didn’t want to hear it. He just wanted to go out of here, far from her and her warmth before he died out of… anger. Yeah. Anger. That’s definitely what this is.

Meanwhile, Raven was oblivious to her bedfellow’s troubles and how they were pressed together closely in the cramped space, her focus undivided from directing PLUME to pick HEAD BRINGER by its parts onto its feet again.

After a few more minutes of fiddling, she managed to pull the bipedal Armored Core back on its feet, balancing it so it wouldn’t fall again.

“There you go.”

Satisfied with her positioning, Raven opened her AC’s core. Without missing a beat, Iguazu scooted away from her and climbed back to his AC and his opened pilot seat, letting the cold cool his face down. He closed his core as quickly as he could and moved HEAD BRINGER a few steps away from her, preparing to go back to base now their mission was completed.

But before he could boost away, Raven looked down at her hands, deciding to connect their comms again and call out to him.

“Iguazu.”

The man clicked his tongue. He was fortunate she couldn’t see his face now.

“What?” He scoffed.

“You have a pretty face too.”

The compliment went unanswered, before not a second later, he turned around and shot her up with his missiles.

‘AP 50% remaining.’

The COM resounded, causing Raven to groan in frustration. There goes her credits.

“Iguazu, what was that for—”

“THAT’S WHAT YOU GET, STRAY DOG!” He yelled louder than ever before, causing Raven to wince at the choppy clipping of his voice.

He then assault boosted away, mumbling something incoherent that sounded like profanity to her before his comm blipping out as he disappeared behind the mountains.

As Iguazu left her standing on the frozen lake alone with the wreckage of MTs around her, she wondered why he sounded so emotional in that last sentence. They are from the same generation of augmented humans, so why does she have repressed emotions and he has so much more?

“Walter, did I do something wrong?” She asked her handler. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

The comm crackled up. ‘I…’ This was the first time she ever heard Walter hesitating. ‘I couldn’t answer with certainty.’

“Well,” she hummed, “I think I’ll just ask Iguazu what was bothering him next time we meet.”

//SENYUU V.IV Rusty x C4-621 Raven

—C4-621, without her identity or memories, will take any name she’s given, including senyuu—buddy—coming from the V.IV, Rusty.

Though she didn’t know why a nickname that felt like any other could make her feel… a certain way.

; takes place during Operation Wallclimber ; canon-compliant with some extra dialogues ; #senyuu

***

Raven will take any name she’s given, including the name from the callsign she stole.

In her defense, it’s less of a mouthful than 621 and sounded more like a real name than her augmented serial, so she’s keeping it. She asked Walter if he would call her that too, but he’s sticking with 621 since he’s her handler and could do whatever he wanted… presumably.

Oh, well. At least Arquebus Corporation and the Rubicon Liberation Front acknowledged the callsign Raven that she used now, despite one using it to address her for the briefing and one using it to curse her for breaking through their defensive line on the Wall—a trading outpost RLF was using as a fortress.

Operation Wallclimber was Arquebus’ attempt to take over the Wall from RLF and their JUGGERNAUT, the heavy mobile artillery platform stationed at the top of it. G4 Volta, and by extension, Balam Corporation, failed at it, so they decided to send her there, probably thinking she would do a better job. And a better job she will do, all for the credits, all the COAM.

So far she had managed to clean up the MT outside and the few stragglers inside the Wall, so all were left to move up and face the JUGGERNAUT who had already shooting at her from the top since she arrived for the mission.

“There should be a lift nearby. The target should be close.” Handler Walter’s voice boomed in her ear through the speakers.

She located the lift on her left side and got on it before pressing the control to move it.

As she took the lift up, her mind buzzed, thinking about the G13 rank Michigan from Balam gave her. She wondered if Arquebus would give her a rank too if she managed to take this JUGGERNAUT down. Maybe they could give her an honorary rank too like the G13? She knew that numbered Vespers were leaders of a squad, but maybe Arquebus wouldn’t be stingy and would still give her a title.

What were the lowest numbered Vespers again? She glanced at the personal database and files she kept on her corner to consult on.

The lowest-ranked Vesper is V.VIII, so maybe she could be V.IX. V.IX Raven does have a nice ring to it after all.

And speaking of Vespers, the one she should meet in this mission is… Vesper number IV, callsign Rusty.

He called in just before she fully broke through the Wall, praising her speed, and Walter even said how a numbered Vesper was an important one, making her wonder just how truly strong this Rusty was.

The lift stopped. She was on the top now.

“621, I’ve dispatched a supply sherpa. Make sure you resupply.” As Walter spoke, the mark for the supply area popped up.

“Understood,” she answered, the collar around her neck amplifying and stabilizing her voice. The device wrapped around her neck stayed in place with a fancy metal buckle and kept under the thick fabric so it would look more natural, the dark fabric blending in with her hair and eyes.

According to what was left of her files, she bought the collar as a way to control her voice since she was rightfully worried about her voice disappearing from the augmentation surgeries. She didn’t know how it worked, but it helped her regain her voice faster after Walter woke her up again, so she was fine with using it. The only downside was that it felt and looked like a tactical dog collar.

How ironic, she mused. As if she needed more signs that she was under Walter’s as his hound, his dog. But, hey, at least she could add those to her name collection, no matter how degrading they are.

Her Armored Core glided over to the incoming sherpa and restocked her ammunition. Then, she moved forward to the big metal door leading to the top part of the Wall and fiddled with the control to open the hatch. The door lifted ever so slowly, revealing the world outside again.

But the chaotic wind, the freezing blizzard, all went pale in comparison to the shaking from the engine of the machines revving up, ringing through the air.

A dark blue AC flew down, turning sharply, and stopped just in front of her, its back facing her AC. Then, his voice came in through the comms.

“You must be Raven… one of the infamous Handler Walter's hounds,” Rusty mused, not even turning to face her.

He knew who she was.

Unfortunately, her next thought was derailed by the JUGGERNAUT crashing through obstacles and heading towards them, followed by Rusty’s voice coming in through again.

“Interesting,” he said. “You ready to climb the Wall?”

Without waiting for her answer, the Vesper slid to the side, leaving her in front of the JUGGERNAUT.

“That's the JUGGERNAUT, a heavy mobile cannon. I wouldn't recommend taking it head-on. It won't be able to keep up with STEEL HAZE—I'll distract it while you hit its blind spot,” he said.

“Roger,” she replied, preparing her missiles, putting the matter of how he knew her and her handler behind for a while.

True to his words, the Vesper led the JUGGERNAUT around with the expert of an augmented pilot, leaving her to attack it from behind with her arsenal of weapons.

“Walter knows how to pick ‘em,” his voice echoed through the speaker, and she scoffed at that.

“A hound like me is nothing compared to a numbered Vesper.”

“Heh, don’t be modest,” he replied, “you’re dealing quite the damage.”

She boosted back from the JUGGERNAUT, switching from her laser blade back to her submachine gun. “Only because you directed its attention.”

“Because I want to see how a hound can climb the wall with those wings.”

She let PLUME—her AC—fall for a second before boosting close to the JUGGERNAUT again, shooting it with submachine guns.

If she didn’t know that everyone just saw her as a weapon or a dog, she would think that Rusty was being friendly to her.

The battle was going well so far, until V.II Snail, the commander of the operation, came in through his comm before Rusty relayed his message.

“Raven, I just got an update from Snail at Command. We’ve got enemy reinforcement incoming. If I don’t intercept them, we’re both toast,” he said, “hate to leave you like this, but you’ll have to finish without me!”

“Copy that,” Raven answered curtly, hoping he wouldn’t notice the crack and waver in her voice. She held back a sigh. Was her collar not doing its job?

Then, blip. He was gone. Just like that.

“He’s gone. So much for our decoy,” Walter spoke through the speaker.

“Don’t worry, Walter, I’ll finish it myself,” she said.

She boosted up from the incoming JUGGERNAUT and drowned it in missiles before assault boosted onto it in a swift move.

The fight went over quickly with her reverse jointed leg and right placements of her laser blade, leaving her towering over the burning pile of JUGGERNAUT, humming at what name would get from finishing this mission.

After that, Walter picked her up back to the garage, and as she was settling down and closing her eyes, the AC’s COM buzzed.

‘One new message.’

She opened it without thinking and her eyes widened. From V.IV Rusty, it flashed his name and emblem, before playing his voice on the speakers.

‘We're senyuu—war buddies—now. I think I should tell you something.’

Her lips twitched at the new name, but her collar only managed a crackle before the message continued.

‘During Operation Wallclimber... Arquebus was planning to sacrifice you. The plan was to use independent mercenaries to clear the way so that the Vespers could step in and take over. But instead... you took the Wall.’

The realization started dawning in on her, but without much emotion to talk about, all she could think about was how cutthroat Arquebus was and how she probably wouldn’t get a Vesper number.

‘The higher-ups are going to remember you now, that's for sure. As will I.’

The message stopped and she leaned back, pushing her hair between her fingers, relishing in the silence and thinking back on Rusty’s words—of another one of her new names.

Senyuu—war buddies. Buddy.

Despite the bombshell he dropped alongside that new name, it was all she could think about. It stirred something within her, something she didn’t understand.

Thrill? It didn’t exactly feel like thrill. Maybe it was something else. Satisfaction? No, it wasn’t that either.

She pursed her lips, blaming her augmentation for her repressed emotional state. At this rate, she’ll never know. But no matter, it was just another name for her to write down, to pin and act as a building block for her identity.

“Senyuu,” she tested the nickname on her tongue. It felt warm. It felt more human than any name she received before. It made her wish could meet him again.

621 paused, looking down at the V.IV Rusty’s emblem from the corner of her eyes.

…but why, exactly?

Hair of The Vulture Alhaitham x Lubanna

—Alhaitham is hangover, Lubanna steps in to help, and he's trying to lessen it with the hair of the dog in the form of a hug. [ Grad student AU ]

For Hug Day Yumefess 2023 #.pelukpelukmlyt #hanna

***

Despite often hanging together at the bar near their campus, Alhaitham always drinks more than Lubanna. The Biomedical Informatics student had read more than enough literature on alcohol effects that she always feels obligated to be the sanest one, while the Theoretical Linguistic student couldn’t care less about it. Besides, he’s a heavy drinker, so he wouldn’t get drunk that easily, he argued.

So Lubanna could only purse her lips as Tighnari brought out a special drink last night. It’s a stronger one than the one they usually drink. Cyno and Tighnari drank a few sips, Kaveh tapped out after one, while Alhaitham scoffed at them as he downed two more glasses.

As the night grew old, she could only watch her friends get progressively drunker and more slurry, until even Alhaitham couldn't even answer her sarcastic remark. At that point, Lubanna gave up on watching them and arranged for all of them to go home. It took around an hour to drag Cyno from throwing more of his puns onto a bartender, and another hour to keep Alhaitham from literally breathing down her neck.

But fortunately, everything is squared, and now the day after, Lubanna tried to contact Alhaitham for their bioengineering seminar at 12. The call went through, but he didn’t pick up any of them.

After trying for the fifth time, Lubanna then decided to just stop by his apartment. She hadn’t been there this week anyway.

She took the lift and stop in front of the door before ringing the bell. After a while, Kaveh, Alhaitham’s roommate, and old friend, opens the door. He looks ready for the day, already changing into presentable clothes and tidied hair.

“Morning, Kaveh,” she greeted him, “he’s here?”

“Still in his room,” said Kaveh.

“As expected.” Lubanna sighed.

After Kaveh stepped aside and made room for her, the woman went inside the apartment. Even from the entrance, it’s nice and tidy, unlike hers. The open plan made everything feel expansive too. Walking side by side, the woman started a small conversation with a smile.

“I’m glad you didn’t drink much last night. I don’t know how you’ll fare when he's still knocked out like this.”

Kaveh groans. “Well, I know my limit.”

“Unlike him,” she answered.

Kaveh snickered, then laughed with her as they both moved to the kitchen. She put her bag on top of the counter and started putting the food she brought onto the counter. Canned foods, seasonings, and other ingredients that'll last more than a few days.

She might not live with them, but with her research contracts going well, she usually brought food for the roommates. Alhaitham didn’t care much about his environment other than his things, while Kaveh had some trouble with money, so it was a no-brainer for her to help those two.

Kaveh watched as Lubanna arranged the seasonings in the cabinets, tapping his fingers on the counter. He never really mind her buying them food, but … he’d be lying if he said he’s not feeling guilty about it.

As the man pondered, Lubanna who stole a glance can tell he wanted to say something.

“So?” she asked, not stopping her movements.

Kaveh was caught off guard by her sudden question. How does she know?! But he just sighed. Both she and her boyfriend really could know things they shouldn’t.

“... you’re sure you don’t want to move in?” he asked. “We still have a room free if you want…”

“If you have troubles with the rent, I can help, you know,” she muttered, “I don’t need to move in myself.”

The Architecture student laughed bitterly. “No, I can’t just ask for money from—”

“Buuut, I also can’t see you keep getting bossed around by him.” Lubanna moved to face Kaveh, cutting his words short. She smiled. “If moving in will help you, I'll think about it, alright?”

Lubanna was sure Kaveh was about to cry, but he ended up giving her a half hug instead. She returned it and chuckled. Even though she hadn’t known him as long as Alhaitham has, she still treasure Kaveh as one of her close friends. And to her, she would do whatever she can if she’d be able to help her friends.

After the man let go of his hug, Lubanna finished sorting their cabinets and closed everything up. She then turned to Kaveh who still stood by the counter.

“I’ll go to his room.”

Kaveh nodded. “Just be careful. He’s voracious when he’s waking up.”

“I know.” She laughed and started walking away.

When he arrived at Alhaitham’s bedroom door, she knocked on it and called out his name. But no answer.

She knocked again, once, twice.

Still no answer.

Knowing he wouldn’t answer, she decided to open it up herself. Slowly she pushed on the handle and pushed the door open.

The room was completely dark, save for Alhaitham’s phone which was emitting light and turning from all the notifications that kept popping up. And even when that phone was not far from his bed, the man laying soundly on the bed was still unmoving.

Sighing, she walked over to the window and pulled the blinds open, drowning the room in sunlight. Alhaitham groaned at the sudden brightness and pull his blanket over his head, curling inside. She walked over to the bed.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Lubanna crouched beside his bed and forcibly uncovered his face from under the blanket. Alhaitham grunted and his forehead scrunched, his eyes still closed. “Hangover?”

“... maybe.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, “do you want water or something?”

The gray-haired man paused for a second before answering.

“Coffee ….”

Of course. He’d never left home without his coffee. Why would she even think he’d want just some pure water this early in the morning?

“Alright, I’ll make your coffee and toast. You need some carbohydrates too,” said Lubanna.

She stood up and turned away from the bed, but before she could take a step, a hand reached out to her and yanked her inside the bed.

“HEY—!”

Alhaitham hugged Lubanna tightly, squeezing her against his more-than-toned abs, which the woman had always wondered how he manage to keep. He usually sleeps shirtless, so she wasn’t surprised with his condition now.

“Alhaitham, let me go.”

But in answer, the man just continues grumbling with his eyes closed, seemingly in a lot of pain. Lubanna smiled wryly and reached for his hair, running her fingers through them softly. He was always so tough, so cold, but at this time, he’s so … vulnerable. The scrunched-up face, the low groan, the messy hair—she wanted to protect him, to stay like this longer, but ….

“Alhaitham,” she sighed, “I’m trying to help ease your hangover so please let me go.”

“What if I refuse?” he asked.

“Then you’d get no coffee,” she said, “and I’ll step on you until you do.”

But instead, he tightened his grip even more and opened his eyes a bit, his turquoise irises meeting Lubanna’s amber ones.

“Try me.”

“Oh, come on.” She laughed. “You really wanna do this when your body is all jumbled up?”

“Yes.”

“And when we have a seminar after this?”

Alhaitham paused at those words, before giving up, letting Lubanna gets off his bed. For the two of them, a seminar is more important than playing around like this, after all.

Lubanna hopped out the bed and cleaned up her outfit, before walking out of the room back to the kitchen.

When she arrived there, Kaveh was already gone, probably back in his room since she knew he had a class today.

Lubanna shrugged and started setting aside the ingredients she’ll need for the toast. After that, she grab a cup and reached for one of the cabinets, and took out the coffee beans Alhaitham drank these days, putting it beside a sleek coffee machine and she started operating the machine.

She ground the coffee and then put them inside the portafilter before tamping it, doing every step as she remembered from the many many sources she read.

Alhaitham was quite particular about his coffee, and Kaveh often complained about how he would make his coffee himself because his roommate ‘can’t even do that easy of a thing’. Pitying the blonde man, Lubanna stepped in and learned how to use the machine to its fullest potential and study his preferred coffees—only to discover in the end, it was Alhaitham’s plan all along to make her able to create his preferred coffee whenever he wants.

The woman was outraged of course, but at least she got to learn something new, so she quickly shimmered down, all the while planning to get back at him by ever so slightly messing with his coffee the next time she made it so it’d feel a bit off for him but he can’t pinpoint why. She had done that before, and the look on his face was absolutely worth it.

Today she won’t be doing it again though, because who knows what he’d do if she served him a different coffee. What if he threw up? Gosh, she wouldn’t want to wish that upon Kaveh’s new carpet.

As the coffee dripped onto the cup, she moves to grab the cold milk inside the refrigerator and move to steam it.

Lubanna herself didn’t understand much about coffee. She much prefers its alternatives, like tea or infused water. So whenever Alhaitham started talking about his coffee, she knew to just shut up and listen. No way she'd attempt a debate with him on that.

After a few minutes, the coffee was done and the milk was steamed. She pour the coffee first, then pulled out the steamed milk, and started creating simple latte art. Filling it halfway and then rocking the pitcher, she tried her best to create a rosetta, slowly yet steady.

Finally, she complete the design. It’s simple, of course, but it’s clean enough for her to be proud of. When she put the cup down with a smile, an arm wrapped around her shoulders, followed by something landing softly on top of her head.

“Is it done?” The masculine voice grumbled behind her, his voice still as gruff as before.

“Mhm.”

Without even a shred of surprise, Lubanna let go of the cup of coffee. She pushed it forward a bit on the counter so the man behind her could grab it easier. Alhaitham picked the cup by its rim and started to drink it.

He hummed and licked his lips. “This is better than last time,” he said, “you’re improving.”

“Last time was on purpose.”

He paused. “I thought so.”

“Nothing goes past your eyes, huh?” Lubanna scoffed. “And why are you still hugging me? You can take a seat.”

“I was just thinking about something and I’m trying it out,” he whispered in her ear. “Hair of the dog. The theory is the consumption of alcohol while having a hangover can help boost endorphins again. But we don’t have any here, and a hug like this—” he wrapped his left hand around her waist, pulling her closer until her back hit his bare chest, and he mutters “—also releases endorphin, so it’s a good enough substitute.”

A smile tugs on Lubanna’s lips, which she tried—and unsuccessfully—hide. “You know it only delays the symptoms, right? It’ll crash again as soon as you stop.”

“And that’s why I’m raising it in the form of a hug.” He took another sip from his cup. “Being addicted to hugging is better than being addicted to drinking.”

“Touché.”

A lull. Alhaitham finished his coffee and put the cup back down on the counter, but he still didn’t let her go. Lubanna who had started grabbing the bread for the toast started moving her shoulders around, shoulders occupied by her boyfriend who was restricting her movement. And she couldn’t do anything much due to sheer size and muscle difference.

So she muttered his name and shook her head.

“You’re feeling bothered?” he asked. “Are you going to let me lay down on the sofa and loss my endorphins again?”

“No, I’m not a demon,” she said, “but can you get me the butter knife, though? I can’t reach it from here.”

“Can’t it wait?” He lowered his face to the crook of Lubanna’s neck and cursed. “My head feels split open every time I move.”

Lubanna sighed and moved a few steps towards the butter knife while keeping her upper body as still as possible so as to not disrupt Alhaitham’s rest. “Then you’d better not act tough and drink too much of anything Tighnari bought again.”

She just barely reached the knife, but eventually, she also managed to grab the butter and jams and started making a toast for Alhaitham.

“How’s your last contract?” he asked, starting small talk.

“The one with the pharma?”

“That one.”

“It’s still ongoing. My last report was inadequate, they say, so—”

Lubanna continued to talk about her latest contract while Alhaitham perched on her shoulder, listening intently while inhaling the woody perfume she usually used. He was sarcastic about the hair of the dog, of course, but even when his head was throbbing with headache and he couldn’t make too many remarks, hugging her helped straightened him.

Whether he liked to admit it or not, her presence brought something serene to his life.

Suddenly, a door was opened and closed again, and footsteps came towards the kitchen.

“Luba—”

Kaveh stood still, gawking at the two lovebirds, the bag slung over his shoulder dropped down onto the floor and caught both of their attention.

“Kaveh?”

“You’re still here?” Alhaitham groaned.

Kaveh glared at the couple, especially who he can tell was pissed because he interrupted his ‘personal time’. But eventually, he moved to face his friend’s girlfriend.

“You know what? Forget about moving in. I can’t stand it if I need to see the two of you getting lovey-dovey every day.”

“Hm? Who is lovey-dovey?” Alhaitham cocked his head up, facing Kaveh with his usual deadpan while tightening his arm around his girlfriend’s torso. Lubanna herself held back a giggle.

“You can’t say that while you’re literally hugging her from behind like that!”

“No, I’m just promoting endorphins to lessen my hangover.” Even though his tone is flat, to Kaveh he still sounds like a bragging child. An annoying bragging child.

“Hugging is not a long-term solution to a hangover, Alhaitham.” Lubanna laughed before turning to face the other man in the room. “And don’t mind him, Kaveh. I’ll get out of your hair after I finish this toast. Do you want one too?”

Kaveh hesitated for a second before finally nodding. H took a seat on the stool on the counter.

“Just … one slice.”

“Okay~” Lubanna put away the bread she was preparing for Alhaitham and picked out another bread from the bag.

Alhaitham frowned ever so slightly at her. “What about my toast?”

“Yours can wait. Kaveh is clearly busier than you so he’ll get one first.”

“I’m also busy.” Alhaitham buried his face in Lubanna’s neck again.

“The seminar is still an hour away, you can wait,” Lubanna mused. She then reached for her boyfriend’s hair, ruffling it as she spoke. “And can you stop teasing Kaveh like this? You’re going to shorten his lifespan.”

“She’s right!” Kaveh booed. “You’re inconveniencing my day by acting like that!”

Annoyed by the man, Alhaitham raised his head again. “This is not teasing though.”

Then, without any cue, he lifted Lubanna’s head up by her chin, the woman speechless, caught off-guard by the gesture.

“But this—”

He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. It was only a few seconds and their lips barely met, but his intoxicating breath caused Lubanna to get lost in him.

Kaveh, on the other hand, turned red and yelped in embarrassment. Those two might be calm and collected when it comes to studying together, but when it comes to their romantic life, those facades are ripped right off.

“I-I'm going out first!” Kaveh grabbed his fallen bag and dashed towards the front door.

“Kaveh! Your toast—!”

The man ignored Lubanna’s yelling and slammed the door behind him, leaving her blinking in confusion before sighing.

“It’s all your fault, Alhaitham.” She elbowed the man behind her, and he didn’t respond, not feeling anything hurt due to his abs.

“It’s also yours.” He cupped her cheeks, causing her voice to turn muffled. “You’re not making me release endorphins fast enough, so I need to hug you longer.”

“Shorry I’hm nhot that ghood~” Lubanna went along with his joke until he released her cheeks. She then turned to face him and patted his cheek in return.

“Now, you better get ready unless you want to waive that seminar registration fee. The hair of the dog can wait.”

Alhaitham groaned. “Right ….”

Reluctantly, he let her go, but his fingers still lingered on her waist, his turquoise eyes still a bit glassy from the hangover.

“Will you stay the night though?”

Lubanna took a step forward and brushed his bangs back. The couple gazed at each other's eyes for a while, feeling euphoric—ah, right, the endorphins, the woman snickered.

“We’ll see,” she said, “I’ll help you continue your hair of the vulture testing.”

i wish for happiness and peace for them Gojo Satoru x Asano Kura x Geto Suguru + Ieiri Shoko

—This is the fourth time Kura has experienced this exact Tanabata, but she still writes down her wishes again, hoping one day they'll come true.

#sakuru

***

This is the fourth time Kura has experienced this exact Tanabata.

She and her three friends are standing in the school hallway near a bamboo tree, erected by the headmaster to celebrate the Tanabata today. The tree is already halfway filled with wishes, from people she remembers from their deaths.

Suguru and Satoru write their side by side while also pointing and laughing at different tankazu hanging on the bamboo, while Kura decides to just write hers right now and get this uncannily happy scene over with.

Kura grabs a white tankazu from the table near the bamboo and starts writing her wish, but before she can even finish halfway, Shoko walks towards Kura after trying and failing to discipline the two boys bickering.

“What did you write?” Shoko tries to take a peek at Kura's paper, but the girl quickly stops writing and covers the words.

“Is it not bad manners to see what someone else writes before they can finish, Shoko?” Kura shakes her head and fakes disappointment. “Maybe you should let me take a look at yours too.”

Shoko boos, but still lifts her papers for her to see—she already knows what is written down:

'Good year'

Kura nods. As always. It's a good wish and one she knows wouldn't come true due to… everything that will happen.

Wanting to give the girl the end of her bargain, Kura finishes the last stroke before showing it to Shoko.

'I wish for happiness and peace for them.'

“Aww, that's cute, Kura~” Shoko nudges her and chuckles. “But are you sure you don't wanna wish for him to be your boyfriend?”

Her face reddens at the suggestion. “No—!”

Suddenly, Satoru, who hears the commotion, pipes up and runs toward them.

“What is it? What is it?” He stops beside Kura and puts his hand on her shoulder. “What are you wishing for, Kura-chaan~?”

“Shut up!” Kura flicks his hand away and covers her tankazu. “You don't get to see it!”

“But I already did~” Satoru winks and clears his throat. “'I wish for happiness and peace for them',” he says, trying to mimic Kura's voice.

“Oh, come on!” Kura lightly punches his arms in retaliation. “You're annoying!”

Satoru brushes off Kura's punch and glances at Suguru. “Hey, Suguru, what do you think about her wish?”

Suguru who has finished hanging his and Satoru's wishes join the circle and smiles, something that Kura always treasures whenever she's thrown back to their high school times. His smile. His personality. He who she wants to protect.

“I don't need peace when you are here, Kura.”

“Same.” Shoko chuckles.

“You two are sappy, but I,” Satoru looks away, trying to hide his embarrassment, “well, I have to agree.”

No matter how much she knows what'll happen next, nothing can ever prepare her for how affectionate they are towards her. So she covers her face and sighs. She hopes days like this can continue forever… but it's just wishful thinking.

“Thank you, you three,” she mumbles.

It always pains her to say that, knowing what the future holds. But her friends who don't know about that just laugh.

Satoru then messes up Kura's hair and laughs. “That's not enough thanks!”

“Yes, yes.” Suguru nods, a twinkle of mischievousness in his eyes. “Maybe you can say something more personal? Like 'I love—'”

Before he can finish, Shoko waves her hand at them, pulling Kura away.

“Shoo, you two, no teasing Kura!”

“But it's fun~” Satoru pouts before glancing at Suguru. “Right, Suguru?”

The boy chuckles. “I don't know what you're talking about, Satoru.”

Shoko clicks her tongue. “You garbage.” She turns to Kura. “Don't mind them, okay?”

Kura laughs and shakes her head. “It's okay. I know how garbage they are.”

“Now that's my best friend,” says Shoko. She lets go of Kura and holds out her empty hand. “Give me yours then, let me hang it.”

A bit hesitant, Kura gives Shoko her tankazu, and the girl approaches the bamboo tree, tying hers and Kura's near Satoru's and Suguru's. After finishing, she nods at her work before facing her classmates and friends.

“C'mon now, let's just go back to class before Yaga-sensei comes back~”

Shoko leads the way, as Satoru and Suguru answer yes in unison, walking behind her. Kura also starts to follow them, but after a few steps, she stops as she feels a bit melancholic.

She turns to face the bamboo again, especially her tankazu, gazing at a smaller writing that her friends miss. The smile on her face wavers, and she clenches her fist as the mark left of her many deaths itches.

How many of them should she face from now on? How many times does she need to die? How many years does she need to repeat?

She takes a step away and a deep breath. No, she can't give up. She couldn't. For their sake—for his sake.

Kura starts to walk away, catching up with Suguru calling for her, Shoko shaking her head at her sentimentalism, and Satoru uncharacteristically staying quiet, a thousand emotions running behind his sunglasses.

The girl brings her polite smile back up again as she walks, not wanting to worry them.

On the corner of the lone white tankazu left on the tree, the almost intelligible writing is swayed by the wind, blowing the wishes of the girl who writes it to the wind, to heaven.

'I want to break this Mobius loop and live peacefully with them. Forever.'

Duty-bound Yamanbagiri Chougi x Rokujou Kura

—Kura and her team run into the Kebiishi while on a sortie, and even though her whole team is almost wiped out, she insists on finishing them by herself—but Chougi won't let her do that.

; #choura

***

Content warning: Fighting scene with a detailed depiction of gore, blood, beheading, and dismemberment of Kebiishi.

*** Kura wraps her tense hand around the hilt of her uchigatana resting on her hips, taking breaths as she leads her sortie team through the dense forest. Her touken danshi followed her with ragged breath, some injured more than others. She glances at them for a second before clicking her tongue.

Repeated sorties to one certain place and time can alert the Kebiishi who really doesn’t care who’s who and will even strike her team, and she knows that. She has crossed blades with them multiple times with her more experienced sortie team. But this time, she messes up. She forgot she has a chance of meeting them at this place, and she decided to bring a few tantou she wants to train more today.

And just her luck, a group of Kebiishi blocks their road right when she remembered that fact. With the captain’s help and right positioning, they managed to take down the yari and one tachi, but Shinano almost got severed by the nagae yari and Kura decided to run away and retreat from the battle.

She might be willing to let them fight even with how heavily injured they are, but even she won’t let them die.

But she’s not planning on returning to the honmaru like this either. No. She needs to finish it first.

Upon seeing a clearing, Kura immediately stops and raises her left hand, peeking from in between the armscys of her black inverness cape.

“Here!”

At her command, her touken danshi immediately scatters and takes a well-deserved break on a few tree stumps and mossy rocks.

Taking a deep breath, Kura looks up at the moon. She’s fortunate tonight the moon is waning, so even though it’s covered by clouds at times, it still provides enough light for her to see and fight well. And even though she still has mixed feelings about it, she sighs, she’s quite trained for this after all.

After making sure all of her touken danshi are in a better position than when they’re running around with their injury, Kura turns towards the tallest man between all of them who’s patching a light wound on his left arm, his silver cape and hair stand out among the greenery around, especially when it’s dark like this. She pats his shoulder lightly and he turns around, a serious expression on his face, as always.

“Wait here. Keep them safe.”

“Huh?” Yamanbagiri Chougi, the only uchigatana and the captain of the sortie team raises his eyebrows at his saniwa. “What? What are you trying to do?”

Kura starts taking a few steps away while giving glances at Yagen who’s trying to bandage Atsushi’s arm and Shinano who is making sure there are no deep wounds on Gokotai.

“Finishing the Kebiishi, of course.”

She says it like she should be the one doing it from the beginning like it’s an obvious thing. Chougi knows a few saniwa fights on the frontline with their touken danshi, and Kura is one due to her complicated background, but it doesn’t mean she has to do it.

“Think it through first.” Chougi follows her steps. “There are still four of them. You can’t take all of them alone.”

But either she doesn’t hear him or just pretending, she doesn’t even spare a glance back before she takes off deep into the woods.

At that moment, something stirs deep within Chougi, pulling him, telling him he should chase after her. So he does.

He turns to the black-haired tantou busy tending to the others.

“Yagen, you’re in charge.”

Yagen responds with an affirmative and Chougi immediately rushes towards Kura’s direction, dashing past trees and stumps, catching up to her after.

“Aruji, step back.”

The man in striking silver and blue runs alongside the woman he's trying to stop. He knows she told him to keep an eye on the tantou, but he can't just leave her like this. This is too dangerous, even she should know that.

Kura gives him an annoyed glance, her amethyst eyes still lit up even under the moonlight. “I'm supposed to be the one giving orders, Yamanbagiri Chougi!”

She spats out his full name, not caring to slow down her pace despite already hitting some stray branches tugging on her cape that are now digging into it.

“Then do it from behind!” He yells back, grinding his teeth. “Or more ideal, let's just go back to honmaru. You're going to hurt yourself!”

The woman finally stops, planting her heels on the ground and kicking up dirt, before twisting her head to meet Chougi's.

“Do I look like I care?!” Her voice is hoarse, and only now the touken danshi notices how bloodshot her eyes are. He takes a sharp breath. There is only a single emotion inside them: determination, clouded under the usual unknown haze.

“I'm your saniwa! I'm the one who started this! I'm the one responsible!” She yells. “So I'll get this finished no matter what—even if I die!”

Something inside Chougi shrivels up hearing the conviction in her voice, but he doesn't show it. And before he can do anything else, the woman already unsheaths her uchigatana, and her gaze travels to the group of Kebiishi that they lost.

Without saying anything else, the woman charges at the leading ootachi, leaving Chougi dumbfounded for a second. Then, muttering something under his breath, Chougi takes off to engage the tachi trailing behind the former Kebiishi, trying to keep him off Kura’s back.

The ootachi who notices Kura lets out something akin to a roar and guards himself with his blazing sword. Seeing that, Kura who’s finally got him on her range, pivots and aims for a different place.

“Got you!”

Aiming for his left torso, the bones wrapping around the ootachi crack under Kura's hit, but nothing quite breaks. Though she doesn’t relent. This is only the beginning.

Single-edged blade strength is in its cutting, but she always finds the sharp end more than enough to pierce a Jikan Shokogun skin, and with Kebiishi, it’s no different. She quickly draws her hilt higher than her blade and stabs the ootachi ribs, earning a guttural pained sound from him, and even more so when she twists her blade before pulling it out, splattering his insides to her hakama, shoes, and the grassy ground underneath them.

But it’s not enough to finish it, so without stopping, Kura cuts through his right hand with force, severing them and causing the ootachi to drop his weapon with a loud thud. She takes advantage and stabs the ootachi in the torso again. With one swift motion, she slashes him open. More insides and fluid spill, drowning the Kebiishi and everything near him. Then he falls before turning into nothing.

Kura takes a deep, ragged breath, and her eyes travel to another enemy. No time to rest. There's another one she must finish.

With trained steps, she moves to intercept the naginata aiming for Chougi, using her right hand to lift her uchigatana upside down and rushes to parry the incoming blade. It clashes in a loud clang and causes Chougi to direct his attention toward her.

“I’m fine!” Kura yells when she notices his gaze.

“You better be,” Chougi answers as he slashes the tachi arm and makes it stagger.

She doesn’t answer again, instead twisting her blade around to push the naginata back and try to close in. But he notices, and even when both of them know the bladed ends won’t connect, he still moves his weapon, and thrust the end of its hilt right on Kura’s stomach.

She flies backward and tumbles onto the ground, dirt and dust covering her. She can hear Chougi yelling something, but she can only focus on the grass sticking on her gloves and nausea climbing up her throat.

Kura gags. Her mouth stings with acid, but she gasps and swallows all of it back down. Not content being beaten, she uses her blade as a crutch to stand up, all the while her eyes never leaving the naginata.

Her hand goes under her cape and wraps her hand around the hilt of her wakizashi, before pulling it out. At that moment, the cloud passes over the moon, and her sight goes pitch black for a second.

Not wanting to waste time, she recklessly rushes forward, her wakizashi at the ready, and rushes the naginata. But it still can hear her movement and parries right in time.

The moment her blade connects, the burning void pair of eyes of the naginata stares her down as ghostly blue flames lick her skin in burning pain. Kura almost jerks back, but she digs her heels to the ground and bites her tongue. With one move, she slashes her blade up the hilt length and breaks the parry, then hits the Kebiishi for the last time. His groan rings in Kura’s ears as he crumbles apart, causing the woman to tap on her left ear a few times to get rid of it.

Then, finished with her wakizashi for the moment, she flicks the blade to clean it before sheathing it back.

Unfortunately, the death of his allies riles up the nagae yari who’s appearing from the horizon. And with just one look at its blade, Kura knows she won’t be able to take it down alone.

“Chougi!”

“Yes, yes. I understand.”

The touken danshi who has felled the tachi dashes towards his saniwa and quickly stands guard in front of her. With both of their uchigatana in the ready—and Kura’s left hand touching the hilt of her wakizashi lightly—they discuss strategy for a few seconds before the anger of the nagae yari reaches them.

“I’ll disarm him, then you can go all out.” She taps on the wakizashi hilt. “And I’ll finish him.”

Chougi doesn’t immediately answer and instead turns his head. “I never said this before,” his sapphire eyes meet Kura’s for a second, “but why do you insist on beheading?”

She tilts her head and her braided pigtails sways with her imitating a shrug because she’s unwilling to move her arms. “Well, it ensures anything is fully dead.”

“Fair enough.”

The nagae yari finally gets close enough and stops their conversation.

Kura watches the end of his blade, and when it gets close enough, she leaps without hesitation. She steps right on his weapon, causing his grip to falter. Then she immediately takes another step and before the hilt crack in two, she thrusts her uchigatana right on its flaming void of eyes. And she lands standing on the weapon.

The nagae yari stumbles back a few messy steps. He’s holding the remnants of a weapon in one hand while instinctively covering his face with the other. His blue flames seem to rise alongside his anger.

Knowing now’s the time for Chougi to shine, Kura tries to move back. But as she does so, the hilt she’s stepping on rolls and she loses her footing. Her eyes widen and the whole world spins as she’s falling backward.

Fortunately, Chougi gets behind her quickly enough and holds her by her cape collar. Her feet quickly touch the ground and Kura tries to stand up properly while trying to recover from the light choking.

“Get a hold of yourself, Aruji,” he says, “it won’t be funny if I have to tell the others you’re bleeding because you fall, not because you try to fight Kebiishi alone.”

Kura groans at Chougi’s words, rubbing her throat. “Thank you. Yes. I’ll certainly do that.”

He clicks his tongue and rushes towards the nagae yari, now only armed with half a weapon. He lifts his blade and aims for the gap between his armors.

“I’ll cut you.”

Chougi strikes under his armpit deep before slashing his arms, causing him to stagger. Then with precision and elegance, the touken danshi continues to deal blow after blow to his armor. Kura observes him with great interest. She knows he’s outstanding and that’s part of the reason why he’s the one observing her for the Jurakutei, but seeing it in real time feels different.

While admiring Chougi, Kura also pulls out her wakizashi and lifts it forward, and on her right hand, she holds her uchigatana in a striking stance. Chougi immediately retreats to the trees on the side and watches. The moonlight reflected on its blade catches the Kebiishi's attention who thinks Chougi has run away. It runs, aiming for her wakizashi.

But just when he’s about to hit her wakizashi, she circles the hilt and knocks it down first. The frayed hilt shoots up and scrapes her cheek, but Kura doesn’t even realize it. She continues to dodge right and slashes the side of his neck with her uchigatana, his burning helmet knocked slightly off.

Then, from behind, Chougi takes advantage of the missing neck guard and slashes the back of his neck. The force bashes the nagae yari down, while Chougi stands on his back.

Without missing a beat, Kura drives her wakizashi through the back of nagae yari's neck and slams it across with her whole strength. His head flies in a spray and splatter of liquid, falling a far distance, while its guttural sound reverberates through the forest.

Kura takes a deep breath, watching the remnants disappear in front of her eyes with the gust blowing by. But before she can even sheath her uchigatana or wakizashi, hurried footsteps stomp toward her.

“You're hurt.”

Chougi’s expression is unchanging from how he usually is, but the tone of his voice is starting to rise in frustration.

“No, I’m fine.” Kura looks away from him, flicking her blades before sheathing them.

She’s not. She knows she’s not. The immense pressure she put herself under corroded the adrenaline that was filling her body moments ago, and now she starts to feel the sting on her cheek and the aches forming into bruises on her whole body. And Chougi knows that too. So he takes a step forward, not caring what she says.

“You went flying.”

Another.

“You got burned.”

And another.

“You got scratched.”

Chougi stops right in front of Kura, far closer than he’s ever comfortable with back in honmaru.

“There’s no way you’re ‘fine’,” he says.

“This is normal. I’m fine.” Kura tries to dismiss Chougi and moves away, but he doesn’t let her, blocking her everywhere she turns. “It’s a fight after all.”

“But you’re not supposed to join the fight in the first place,” he says, “you’re our saniwa.”

“But I’m also a member of my family,” Kura says before speaking of her family name in a hushed tone. She looks up at the moon that’s starting to get covered by another cloud. “I was born to continue their legacy. To finish this.”

This time, he’s visibly angry. He knows about her family, but for her to put that much emphasis and risk her life just over it… it pisses him off. He knows he does the same thing with his duty, but when she does it, he just… doesn’t agree. He doesn’t know why. He just doesn’t want her to get hurt over it.

“You shouldn’t have fought alone!”

“But it's my duty—!”

Chougi grabs Kura’s cheek and brings her closer, wiping the wound on it. The fresh blood sticks to his black glove, but he doesn’t care about it. Kura’s eyes widen at the gesture, every sensation from the fight melts away and is replaced by a wave of emotion she never felt before.

“It's our duty. Not yours only.”

Silence fills the distance between them for a few seconds. The moon wanes, peeking in and out of the clouds. From afar, the sounds of birds settling in back after the noises of the fighting echo. The forest tonight has become quiet, but the silence is deafening.

After a few more seconds, Chougi exhales, and Kura can see the corner of his lips tremble slightly. Before she can say anything, to her surprise, he grabs her left hand and looks straight at her eyes.

“Aruji… if you're hurt,” he takes a deep breath, picking a suitable phrase, “there will be no one to command us to sortie.”

But no matter how composed he tries to be and how many times he tries to pick the 'most objective' word, the relief and pain in his voice still bleed with his speech.

“So please… don't rush out like that,” he says, “or at the very least, allow me to watch your back.”

“Chougi ….”

He continues. “You’re important to us.” As he pauses, the moonlight highlights a glimmer in his sapphire eyes that he tries to hide. The gloved fingers wrapping around Kura’s hand tightens. “To me.”

Those sudden words send Kura standing still in shock as tears prick her eyes. Even with Chougi trying to cover up for his honesty, she can still feel it, and she doesn’t know how to respond—because just like him, this is the first time she ever feels anything like this.

It's not like he gives her time to do it, though.

The touken danshi quickly turns away in shame, letting the saniwa’s hand in the process.

“Let's just… go back to honmaru.”

“Uh, mhm. Sure.”

Out of their element and out of more Kebiishi to vanquish, the two of them walk almost side by side, Chougi walking slightly ahead to make sure Kura doesn’t see her face. The whole walk back to the clearing is silent, accentuated by the silent and dim forest, but inside their mind, the two duty-bound individuals can’t stop thinking about what just happened. They never fathom there’s something that awaits them outside of their duty—and they never expect how things will unravel from now on.