Chapter Text
Suisei’s body wakes up in sections nowadays.
The noises that had been so foreign and loud on those first few nights at the dorms had suddenly turned into a familiar, organic alarm. They became nothing but background sounds; the barefooted footsteps – that Suisei was fairly certain were Haachama’s now – lulled her into a pleasant morning call. She would feel her brain rebooting, then take a deep breath before turning around and burying her nose on the cold part of the pillow. There she would stay for five more pleasant minutes. No rush, no higher ups bursting into her room for roll-call. It was weird.
She still wasn’t quite used rest on purpose.
The silence settles over the room like a blanket. Seagulls sing outside, and if Suisei makes an effort, she can hear the lazy waves licking the coast of the island. Involuntarily, she feels herself smiling. Then, she wakes up for good.
Sitting up, Suisei rolls her neck and shoulders first. She stretches her arms, then bends over until her hands can grab her toes, pulling for a moment. Her calves burn and she lets them go. With a final crack to her spine, Suisei is done with her morning routine. And then, she looks over to her roommates.
Miko and Polka are tangled up in their bedsheets today. From this angle, Suisei sees the way Miko spoons Polka from behind, one leg out of the sheet and on top of Polka’s thigh, curled over the blonde girl like a protector. Suisei remembers that Miko returned late to the room the night before, but doesn’t think much of it.
Her roommates no longer wake her up at night. Their routine whispers stopped mattering altogether to Suisei, and it’s with a funny feeling in her chest that she realizes it’s only because she came to trust Miko in full. For as much as Suisei wished she could fix Polka with the flip of a switch, she’s not the expert here. Miko has known her the longest, and Suisei came to learn that building trust takes time and effort. So, just like in their practice section a few days ago, Suisei relinquishes control of this particular situation and allows Miko to do her thing.
And also because she suspects she understands Miko and Polka’s relationship a bit better now.
They are clearly lovers, like Flare and Noel.
Suisei is stubborn about this. Figuring out how other people operate in different contexts is bizarre in the Pirate Den. Nothing is really spelled out, and even when it is, there are layers and… intrigue involved. This base had clearly mastered people-skills to a degree she’s never seen before. If they weren’t so busy being insane over each other, Suisei thinks they could’ve talked their way to the top easily.
Things were simple in Liberion: your rank dictated how you behaved, and people from the same hierarchy level were free to engage in friendlier conversations among each other. Suisei thinks about Azki, and how she was the closest thing to a friend she’s ever had, and even then she kept a safe, professional distance from her. Azki tried so hard, all these years. If Suisei met her now, she thinks she would approach her differently.
Regardless, subterfuge wasn’t going to do her any good, so Suisei decides to face these questions head-on. With a firm nod, she walks to Miko’s bed and gently shakes her awake.
“Miko,” Her voice is low. “Good morning.”
Miko groans and pulls Polka closer, getting a tiny rumble from the blonde pilot as well. Suisei snorts slightly and pokes her again. “Come on, we need to train together, remember?”
Nothing for a moment, then the words fully register in Miko’s brain. She opens her eyes completely, sitting up in a swift move. “Oh!”
Missing the warmth behind her, Polka turns around and hugs Miko’s waist. She mumbles something incomprehensible. Miko turns a soft gaze to her and cards her fingers through Polka’s hair. “Try to sleep a little more, okay?”
And that, the way her entire demeanor changes when she addresses Polka, that’s irrefutable proof that they love each other profoundly. Suisei is sure of it. So sure that she feels a little proud for having figured it out by herself. Her soldier brain files this as a successful mission and a stupid grin escapes her face.
Clearing her throat, she turns around to leave the room, “I’ll be waiting for you in the restroom.”
“Alright, just give me a minute.” Miko answers without tearing her eyes off of Polka, and Suisei leaves to give the couple some privacy.
She nods to herself. Good job, Suisei.
True to her word, Miko walks in a few minutes later. She greets Suisei properly and washes her face. They are the only ones there, sharing the large sink and a comfortable silence. Suisei looks at the showers that need fixing through the mirror and thinks about Commander Marine and her trip. She’s supposed to be coming back today, and Suisei wonders if there will be a welcome back party to match the farewell one.
Suisei is done brushing her teeth first and leans against the sink to wait for Miko. She studies the girl for a bit, but her stare isn’t discreet. Miko notices and turns to her too.
“Wha’?” Miko asks, mouth full of toothpaste.
Delicately, she replies, “I just thought you should know that you don’t have to hide it from me.”
The pause is longer than necessary, but Miko tilts her head. “Hide wha’?”
“The fact that you and Polka are lovers.” Suisei answers.
Miko only has so much time to turn around and spit all over the sink before she’s coughing. She breathes in and snaps, eyes open wildly towards Suisei. “What?! No, we’re not!”
Somehow, Suisei’s world crumbles. Her brain freezes, rerouting automatically. Her being wrong about this is inconceivable, so she pushes further. “Miko, it’s fine. Working with couples is nothing—”
Miko grabs Suisei’s shoulders strongly. “No, no, no, no, you’ve got it all wrong.” Then she chuckles, crookedly. “Wait, all this time you thought Pol-Pol was my girlfriend?”
“I…” She detests having her personal space invaded like this, but she hates getting things wrong even more. “I mean, I wasn’t sure how you’d label yourselves, but… to a degree?”
And then, Miko is laughing. It sounds more like desperation than relief, but Suisei is apparently terrible at reading emotions, so she crosses her arms and gives Miko an expression that looks suspiciously like a pout. “Don’t laugh at me.”
“S-sorry! I just… This is so… Oh, man.” Finally leaning back again, Miko retrieves her hands and rubs her face up and down. “We’re not like that at all.”
Suisei looks away, leaning back and forth on her feet. “You sure look like it.”
“You think?” Miko asks, palms still on her cheeks. Her face is red, from laughter or something else, Suisei couldn’t tell.
“Every time I wake up you’re glued to each other, how am I supposed to interpret that?” Her tone is childish, but Suisei is truly struggling. Forcing the words out, she admits. “I’m not good… with people. So, I assumed. I’m sorry for that.”
“No, no, it’s alright.” Miko laughs awkwardly again, eyes anywhere but on Suisei. Taking a step back, she leans against the sink as well. “I can see why you’d believe that, now that I think about it. Sorry if that was confusing.”
It’s foreign territory. Suisei has never talked about relationships with a girl her age before. She puts herself in the shoes of civilians, young women who chat about handsome men and beautiful ladies over lunch, the scent of coffee permeating a break room after a particularly harsh day at the office. Friendly banter. The sense of normalcy she never had. This is akin to it, she supposes. It’s so strange.
But it’s nice. Talking to Miko about anything is nice.
She thinks about Azki again, and how her friend would continue this conversation if she was there. It’s with shame and dread that it dawns on Suisei exactly what her next question would be, and it feels like a challenge. Losing here means she’s really not good enough to be part of a team.
(And maybe Suisei does want to belong somewhere, after all.)
“Is there…” Suisei has no idea how to say this without sounding like an absolute buffoon, but she clings to the feeling. “Is there someone you like?”
It’s the last thing Miko expected to hear. Looking back up at the Azure Comet, her expression changes. Piercing green eyes study the super soldier for a beat. Miko really is an open book. She’s in awe of Suisei.
And then, the softest smile blooms on Miko’s face.
“Yeah.” Miko says. “I think so.”
Flashes of flower crowns in an open field blur Suisei’s vision before she’s relaxing her shoulders. She mirrors the expression. “I see.”
They say nothing else, gazes speaking louder than words. Feelings are private, even to people who are meant to take deep dives inside each other’s minds. Whatever Miko plans to do with hers is her choice, and her choice alone. Suisei respects that.
The sun is higher in the sky and a beam crosses Miko’s cheek through the small window at the top. Suisei thinks, she belongs in the sun, warmth spilling from her heart. This is the girl she swore to protect. For the first time, her mission has a face and a name, and the weight of the world presses on her shoulders when she thinks of Sakura Miko.
Before they leave for training, Suisei has one last question, in a shy voice, “Flare and Noel are lovers for sure, right?”
And this time Miko laughs with her whole chest.
-X-
“Slow and steady,” Lui’s voice booms through the megaphone. “A little more to the right, guys. Leave some breathing space.”
Twenty people work in perfect sync to haul a plasma core inside a boat much too small for this type of cargo, but Takane Lui is overseeing the project, so they all know nothing can possibly go wrong. Her steady instructions have guided the Adorers on this side of the country to multiple successful missions, and the moment she announced to everyone that their plans for the core had changed, not a single member of the organization protested. Months of labor thrown in the garbage just like that, but it was alright, because Lui had asked.
To many, Takane Lui was salvation. A pedestal she never asked to be put on, but one she wouldn’t climb down from.
“Ma’am,” A young boy runs up to Lui, sweat on his forehead. “We’ve confirmed your arrival with the port of Masuka. Usada’s agents will be there to welcome you and the cargo.”
“Good,” Lui doesn’t tear her eyes off the core. “Go help in the kitchen when you can, we need to take inventory—” A sudden chill runs up Lui’s spine and she chokes slightly. Straightening her posture even more, she looks at the boy with calm eyes. “—Of the ingredients for the trip. Go on, now.”
If he noticed anything wrong, he didn’t comment on it. “Yes, ma’am.”
Lui waits until he’s out of sight and gives the workers one last push as the core vanishes inside the boat. “Good job, everyone.”
She puts the megaphone away and starts walking. To an outsider, she’s just Takane Lui in heels parading across the harbor and taking care of everything. Not a single hair out of place as she nods politely to the people passing by, tall and strong like a leader, with enough experience in the outside world to manage a bunch of untrained civilians and make something out of nothing. Takane Lui is usually not the first person you meet when you become an Adorer, but she will be the second, and the emptiness you’ve felt your whole life will dissipate immediately once she’s done with you.
“Takane Lui is salvation.” She’s heard it a million times, and yet she never uttered these words herself.
The chill starts creeping up her ankles, and Lui’s steps take on a slightly more desperate strut.
Outside, she’s pristine.
On the inside, voices are bouncing off the walls.
Koyori, Lui sends with the sort of distress only her souls would be able to pick up.
I’m going! She’s up in her room! Koyori replies, dropping everything she’d been doing in the basement of their home to run upstairs. Lap, you need to land.
Laplus, inside her mech in another city far away, just agrees without words.
Iroha, go outside. It’s a beautiful sunny day. Lui instructs, and receives a mental thumbs up in response. Iroha leaves her hiding spot, also out of town, and lies on the grass to wait patiently like always.
With everyone safe, it was time to address the problem in question.
Lui reaches a safehouse and slams the door shut as she enters. It’s a simple wooden shack, one built specifically for moments like this. Unlike Iroha, Lui prefers to be out of sight and in a dark room when it hits, just to protect her pride from questions she’s not ready to give her subordinates yet.
The chill halts its slow climb and hits Lui’s legs suddenly, numbing her senses and making her crumple like paper before she can reach the pillows in the corner. She grunts, jaw hitting the floor with a deaf thud. It hurts. Heartbeat spiking, Lui starts dragging herself with her arms.
Koyori, hurry, Lui says.
Fuck, I can’t reach the door, Koyori replies. She had also ceased to feel her legs, dropping right in front of Chloe’s bedroom. Her upper body strength isn’t the best, but Koyori needs to open the door before the paralysis reaches her arms.
Why did she close the door? Lui’s jaw is pulsating with pain and she’s irritated. We talked about this.
I know, she just needed to rest so badly, Koyori’s fingers graze the handle as she pushes herself up with everything she can.
You’re too soft for her, Lui curls in on herself, closing her eyes. All she can do is wait this out.
Miraculously, Koyori gets the door open before her arms give out, and she drags herself the rest of the way. Chloe is asleep comfortably on her bed, under the covers and curled like a shrimp, which is a bad sign. She shouldn’t be having these relapses anymore. She was doing so well, three months without one, and Koyori was ready to write her off as a complete success on her report, but this situation just brought her research back to square one.
“Chloe!” Koyori yells, because their thoughts didn’t reach their dreams. “Chloe, wake up!”
Finally, Koyori’s arms stop responding, and her body forces itself into a curling position like the others. The sensation isn’t new to them, but Koyori never truly got used to it. She starts to panic out of instinct, her nerves confused about the situation, shutting down one by one as only her torso remains intact.
It’s not real, Lui is the one who calms them down in times like this, somehow retaining her mental faculties when all others succumb to Chloe’s paralysis. You know this. Koyori, keep calling for her.
“Ch—” Koyori swallows hard, but she’s the only one physically present to end this madness. “Chloe, you need to wake up!”
And when none of this helps, Koyori just starts screaming. It’s loud and terrifying, but it gets the job done.
Chloe snaps her eyes open, and the numbness dissipates like it was never there.
Back at the shack, Lui feels her arms and legs rebooting and takes a deep, shaky breath. She closes and opens her fists and toes to get reaccustomed to the sensation – a gentle reminder to her body that she’s in control. After a moment, Lui sits back up and cuts her connection off with the others.
Koyori tries not to cry, but a myriad of sensations flood her all at once. She feels Laplus cutting off, and Iroha follows soon after. It’s for their own good, she knows. But having them leave like this after an intense shared experience always breaks Koyori’s heart a little bit.
“Koyo?” It’s Chloe’s gentle voice that brings her back to reality. “Oh… It happened again, didn’t it?”
In a flash, Chloe is with Koyori on the floor, hugging her tightly. She pulls the pink-haired scientist to her lap and whispers sweet nothings in her ear, gentle fingers drawing random patters on her back until Koyori is awake enough to pull back and look at her.
Chloe cups her face, rubbing a thumb on the dried tears there. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. It’s my fault.” Koyori sighs. “You’ve been doing well, so I neglected your regular checkups.”
Chloe just hums and loses herself on Koyori’s face. The one person whose connection she’s never broken, not even once.
“We should really get me that collar.” Chloe mutters.
“No.” Koyori shakes her head.
“Lui wants to.”
“Lui can’t have everything she wants.”
“But I’d be so sexy wearing it,” Chloe wiggles her eyebrows in a poor attempt at humor, which works regardless because Koyori is pathetic for her. “Just… think about it, alright?”
And Koyori says I won’t think about it, but she will, because sharing her soul with four people now means thinking about everyone’s happiness, and if Chloe’s happiness includes wearing a shock-collar that can be remotely controlled to wake her up whenever her nerves start breaking down, then Koyori will do it.
But she will hate doing it.
(Koyori wished the world knew about this side of Adorers, too. The side that doesn’t agree with everything.)
-
Marine takes one last look at her beautiful, unattainable VIP room, before grabbing her luggage and saying goodbye, probably forever. She will be back to Pekoland sooner rather than later, but her chances of scoring a deal good enough to land her a room like this again are so small that she might as well accept it now.
“Goodbye, sweet prince…” With a dramatic sigh, Marine puts one hand on the wall closest to her. She rubs it slowly, heartbroken and devastated, then takes a step closer. Impulsively, she closes the gap, placing a gentle kiss on the gray surface.
Pekora opens the door.
Marine freezes on the spot, lips still attached to the plaster. The silence is brutal.
Pekora just blinks twice. “What the hell are you doing.”
Jolting away from the wall, Marine picks up her luggage and pretends she has a grip on her life. “Good morning! Breakfast was phenomenal today. Pay my compliments to the chef.”
“Get out of my room, you freak.” Pekora’s voice cuts like ice.
“Yes, ma’am.” Marine obeys like a mutt and makes sure to stay out of Pekora’s line of sight until she leaves the city.
It’s always bittersweet to leave the underground paradise, but this time her departure hits her differently. Her conversation with Kobo haunts her still, and Marine would be lying if she said she didn’t toss and turn at night thinking about the imminent apocalypse right under everyone’s noses. Her eyes land on Pekora, and Marine bites her lower lip.
Curious, she notices that Pekora’s bodyguards aren’t with her today. Moona and Reine seem to always be hovering menacingly no matter what, so Marine wonders what could possibly have happened to be escorted out by the boss herself and no one else. A small, hopeful part of her cheers at this clear sign of victory – Pekora is finally willing to admit she feels safe with Marine. The realist in her just fills her brain with images of torture rooms and poisoned wine. You fucked up, Marine, it says. She will finally kill you.
When the boss makes sure the room is locked, she starts walking towards the elevators and Marine can only follow. Inside her bag are the parts Matsuri needs to fix the showers, and the rest of her shopping items had been delivered to her ship. Another successful transaction, and now she can go home. It’s a little lonely, thinking like that.
“Your plasma core is on its way.” Pekora speaks suddenly.
Marine looks up. “Oh, that was fast.”
“Hm.” The hum is as neutral as Pekora’s entire demeanor as her heels click down the long corridor. Her steps drag out, and Marine doesn’t dare walk by her side. “All I need to say is that politicians are involved and suddenly every black market scum ends their emails with ‘please’ and ‘thank you’.”
“You sound displeased by politeness.” Marine says.
“Hypocrisy displeases me,” Pekora rebukes. “It’s not my approval they want, so I don’t know why they bother changing their awful personalities for me.”
“The Adorers?” Marine asks.
“Adorers, generals, foreign diplomats, goddamn… mercenaries who can’t read or write for shit.”
“That sounds a little elitist.” Marine can’t help a smile. Pekora is in a good mood today. “I just hope my core is in good condition when I put my hands on it.”
“You won’t put your hands on anything. That researcher of yours will.” They reach the end of the hallway and face the elevators that will take them down to the exit. Pekora doesn’t press the button. “Regardless, hypocrites. All of them.”
It’s a little funny how easily Marine can read Pekora when she gets like this. She knows it’s on purpose, that the boss wants to go somewhere with this, or else she’d be holding her cards close to her chest as always. It warms the commander’s heart.
“Even me?” Marine takes pity on her and asks what she wants to hear.
Pekora is quiet for a moment, just to give her pride some respite, then answers, “Not you. You’re exactly yourself.”
It sounds like an insult, but Marine chases it to the end of the world.
“And so, for not committing the sin of displeasing me,” Pekora continues, turning around. The golden elevator doors frame her like a painting and, not for the first time, Marine thinks, this is the most dangerous woman I’ve never touched. “A word of advice.”
Pekora gazes into Marine’s one good eye, then looks at her eyepatch. Her eye movement is imperceptible, but Marine perceives Pekora like she’s a typhoon she can’t avoid.
“Getting that core will be the beginning of your path of no return,” Pekora drops her walls to truly talk to Marine. “You have complete faith in your people, and I respect that, Marine. But give them too much freedom and you’re signing up for your downfall.”
She’s not the first to tell her that, but it’s the first time Marine truly listens without interrupting with an obnoxiously polite nod.
“You’ve got the Emperor tangled up in this now,” Pekora’s gaze hardens, steel and fire combined to forge a deadly weapon. “For the sake of your island, I hope you know more than you let on. Even to me.”
Rare are the moments when Pekora confronts her like this, bare and vulnerable to the point of genuine emotions leaking out. It would be a disservice to avoid her like this, so Marine doesn’t.
“I know more than enough and less than necessary,” She says. “The rest is blind faith in a deity I can yell at.”
Pekora holds her gaze heavily. Marine doesn’t know what else she can do but meet her head on.
“When the time comes, Marine,” Pekora continues, surprisingly. “Let someone else twist the knife.”
It’s an enigma. Marine is genuinely confused, so she frowns, but knows better than to ask for clarification. She will just have to ponder these words for the rest of her life, or until the critical moment comes and Pekora’s words hold true. What a shame; she truly thought hers would be the cool sentence to end their brief encounter with this time around.
They’ve been bare for long enough and it starts to give Marine palpitations, so she decides that it’s time to deflect. “Why, Miss Usada, it almost feels like you want to keep me here with all this chatter.”
And in a twist of fate that not even she could’ve predicted, Pekora takes a step closer and reaches up, one hand picking a stray piece of dust from Marine’s shoulder. She throws it away and adjusts the commander’s collar, harshly pulling her closer still.
“Always so eager to go back to that island of yours.” Pekora mutters in a breath that Marine can feel over her lips. She slides her hands down Marine’s coat, down her chest and stopping on her waist. “Stay longer next time. Kobo imprinted on you, I think.”
It’s incomprehensible, Marine thinks, that this woman exists. That she knows the extent of her grief, and yet, she exists.
The universe mocks her, and Marine falls, and falls, and falls.
“Of course. I could never deny you.”
And then, she’s the one stepping away to press the elevator button. When the doors slide open, Marine is also the one to step inside first, holding them open for the woman who wants to destroy her more than anyone else in this entire world.
Pekora stares at her for a long, long time before walking in.
Masks back on, the commander of the Pirate Den and the mafia boss don’t exchange another word, lest their hearts betray the universe they so carefully constructed.
-
Suisei is surprised when she steps into the cafeteria and realizes that there’s a tiny TV hanging precariously above everyone’s heads in the corner. She’d never realized it was there because it’s never been turned on before, but today for some reason the morning crew had gathered around one table to watch it, necks cricked up as a rare VHS-captured mech battle ran over the news.
“This morning, another Adorer attempt to cross the border into the Capital was hindered by Liberion forces. Enemy mechs were deployed in a stealth mission, but were caught on time by our soldiers before any real damage could come to citizens nearby…”
The anchor relays the mission in the background as Suisei walks over to grab breakfast, with Miko and Polka tailing behind her. She catches some familiar faces by the full table, then sees a lonely figure drinking coffee by another, farther away from the TV.
Walking past her, Suisei pokes Towa with her elbow. “Morning.”
“Mhm.” Towa mumbles against her mug, not quite awake yet. When she does raise her gaze, it lingers on Miko for a moment too long before she’s replying properly. “Good morning, you three.”
Suisei doesn’t miss the way Miko just nods silently and excuses herself to grab a tray. Polka gives Towa a head pat and follows Miko, but Suisei just stands there.
Before she can say anything, Towa nods towards the TV. “Good job this morning, ace.”
Confused, Suisei frowns. “Huh?”
“…As always, the Azure Comet’s presence seems to be a weapon on its own. The mere sight of that blue machine is enough to scare most Adorers away from any attempts at the Emperor’s Palace.” The news anchors discuss, and that makes Suisei turn around.
True enough, Shoku is on TV, ripping machines left and right on the news that very morning.
And then, Suisei notices how the entire cafeteria table had turned to stare at her.
“You— How the hell are you in two places at once?” A jet-haired girl with a loud voice is the first to speak, pointing at Suisei and at the TV simultaneously.
“Oh, my God. Fubuki was right.” Korone follows with a terrified tremble in her voice. “Liberion folk do have superpowers.”
And then, Fubuki is going around the table with her palm upward. “Pay up.”
The fact that some people click their tongues and actually place bills on her hand gives Suisei a headache.
“Cut it out, Shirakami,” Towa sounds exhausted as she speaks from the other table. “It’s a double, you idiots.”
A resounding ‘ah’ flies across the room and Suisei blinks the last few seconds away from her mind. She looks at the TV again, now paying full attention to the fake Shoku’s movements, and is relieved to realize that whoever was piloting it truly didn’t feel like herself. The island was starting to make her go crazy, so Suisei did, indeed, consider having a secret alternate personality for a split moment.
“What do they need a double for?” Okayu is the one who asks, taking a bite of her breakfast onigiri.
“It’s in the country’s best interest to pretend the Ace of Liberion hasn’t left home.” Towa speaks as she leans back on her chair. She keeps watching the footage with distant eyes. “If the best player is out, your rivals start getting cocky.”
Somehow that manages to silence everyone. Suisei knew, to an extent, that her departure wouldn’t be announced to the world, but she wasn’t really sure how Commander Sora would deal with her absence in the battlefield. Her status as an icon and a hero had been used as leverage before, so playing this role wasn’t exactly new. Her lifelong achievements had turned her into more than a soldier. Hoshimachi Suisei was a prize that everybody coveted.
“I wonder who the pilot is.” Suisei mutters louder than intended. Towa stares at her again, tired eyes getting lost in the ace’s profile.
“Well, whoever they put in there isn’t going to fool anybody for much longer.” Miko’s voice startles Suisei out of her reverie. She sounds positively offended. “That’s not how you fight.”
Ah, right, Suisei thinks. She’s been watching me for a long time.
It’s funny how that is the thing that manages to get a reaction out of Suisei’s plastic heart. She feels tendrils cracking the shell from the inside, like an abomination hatching in a wasteland where nothing should’ve been able to grow.
“Wait, aren’t you going out on a mission with Miko in a few weeks?” Korone breaks the moment with a simple question. “If the enemy catches two of you out there, that’s going to be suspicious.”
A heavy sigh from Towa makes Suisei look back at her. She feels like she’s ping-ponging between the two tables, and it would be so much easier if the researcher just joined the others.
“Yeah, well, I was going to tell her,” Towa says through her teeth. “But that’s why we painted Shoku.”
Suisei is on her in seconds. “You what?”
Hands on the lapels of Towa’s jacket, breath way too close for comfort, heartbeat spiking. They could mess with her all they wanted, but doing something to her mech without her consent sent Suisei into overdrive.
Instead of feeling threatened, however, that seems to wake Towa up for good, because the researcher just gives her a shit-eating grin. “What? It’s just some paint. It’s not like your combat will suffer for it.”
“That’s not the issue here!” Suisei tightens her grip. “I don’t appreciate you changing Shoku’s design behind my back.”
“Why not?”
“Because—!” With a grunt and lacking a rational explanation, Suisei just gets more frustrated. “It’s weird!”
“What is weird?” Towa doesn’t let up. “Different-colored metal?”
“No!”
“Blue isn’t exactly stealthy…”
“She’s going to feel weird about it!” Suisei finally blurts out. Her words catch up to her, as well as the fact that they have an audience, and she lets Towa go with a large step back. No, that’s not what she meant. She didn’t mean to refer to Shoku as a living, sentient being, someone whom she cares about, a friend more than machine, a companion, a—
But Suisei looks over her shoulder, and she doesn’t see the judging eyes of her peers disgusted by what she just said.
All she sees are sympathetic looks at best, and mocking grins at worst.
Oh, her heart leaps a beat.
“Mom, Towa is bullying the new girl!” Fubuki grins. “I’m going to tell Marine.”
“She can’t kill me in any way that matters.” Towa says, adjusting her jacket again. Taking pity on her ace, she finally relents. “Relax, Suisei. It’s holographic paint, it comes out once it’s demagnetized.”
Oh, again.
Feeling like her pride was wounded enough, Suisei turns around and grabs a tray. “I’m hungry.”
Quiet giggles follow, but don’t linger. The chatter continues about anything else, eyes off Hoshimachi Suisei after she’s been made a fool, like everyone understands that she needs some time, like they don’t want to hurt her. Like they care about her enough to not mock her anymore. Like everything that followed had been—
Friendly banter.
Oh, a third time.
So that’s what it feels like.
-
Flare scratches her palms, that itch still there. They’re a little sweaty, so she dries them on her cargo pants as she walks along the main compound’s corridor, stopping to look inside every room on her path.
Waking up this morning, Flare had been greeted with a handwritten note by Noel saying that she was leaving first. Her partner wanted to let her sleep a little longer, so she didn’t wake her up. Noel did that sometimes. She liked being active and have some time for herself in the mornings. No big deal.
Putting the note back down, Flare had moved to the communal bathroom to start her day. Face washed and teeth brushed, Flare had noticed that something was off, and realized that it was the weird itch.
She wouldn’t be so conscious of it if it didn’t feel stronger now. Maybe she was catching allergies? Flare decides to ask Towa to have a look at it later.
She stops at the Music Room. There’s no one inside.
Flare keeps going.
One hand goes up to her brow, wiping the sweat pooled there. The day was alarmingly hot, even inside the place with the air-conditioners running. Maybe some of them had broken down, which was a shame, because Marine was supposed to come back today and no one asked her to buy parts to fix their ventilation system. The thought makes Flare laugh a little, and it’s louder than she intends the sound to be.
She stops by the HR Office. Only Choco is in there, going through files as usual. She doesn’t seem to have company, so Flare doesn’t bother her.
She keeps walking.
The silence bothers her a bit, so Flare starts whistling as she thinks about the lessons she’s about to have with Miko. They’re supposed to help her train for her first mission with Suisei, and Flare has some interesting ideas with the help of Commander Kintsuba. Going through every possible hazard scenario will be important for Miko’s reflexes and crisis management, and Flare wants to be sure the girl is up to par with her ace of a partner.
She misses Noel.
Flare stops on her tracks at the thought.
Her palms itch.
Shaking her head, Flare walks again. It’s just so hot today.
She stops by the gym. Opening the door, Flare catches Matsuri and Shion doing squats.
“Oh, morning, Flare.” Shion says.
“Have you guys seen Noel?” Is the first thing Flare asks, and she’s surprised by her lack of manners. “Good morning.”
Matsuri grunts, squats still going. “Yeah, she wanted to do some yoga in the room next door. Even asked us—”
“Thank you, I’ll see you guys later.” Flare closes the door before Matsuri can even finish speaking.
Her eyes squint, sweat leaking down and into her cornea, and she blinks. Her breathing feels all weird. Maybe because she’s walking so fast, suddenly. Wait. What? Flare halts, her sneakers screeching against the floor. Her palms itch. She’d been almost running. Running to the room next door, tunnel vision, Noel is in there. What did Matsuri say? Flare feels like she was rather rude to her.
Her legs are moving again. The room next door. Noel is in there.
She reaches it, and without meaning to, slams the door open.
Noel is in there.
“Flare?” Noel says, sitting back up from her meditative position. “You okay?”
Flare’s heartbeat calms down. There she is, lovely and a little sweaty, fluorescent lights shining against Noel’s skin. She’s wearing black leggings and a tank top to match, a gift from Flare from when they were younger and already in love. Noel looks beautiful. Flare thinks she will always look beautiful.
“Yeah,” Flare says, taking a heavy gulp of air. She’s a little breathless. “Morning. Doing some yoga?”
“I was, yes.” Noel is looking at her with concern in her eyes. “Did something happen?”
“No, nothing happened.” Flare chuckles. She walks in, sitting next to Noel. “Can I join?”
The silence that follows as Noel searches for something in Flare’s eyes is off-putting. But there’s really nothing to find. Flare was just happy to see her, just like she’s always happy to see her when she wakes up and sees Noel first thing in the morning.
Noel doesn’t find anything, apparently, because she just smiles back at her number one partner and says, “Sure.”
With a happy sigh, Flare follows Noel’s movements, the nice yoga session calming her heart and mind.
Noel is there.
Flare’s palms stop itching.