Chapter Text
Chapter Two
A much older, sophisticated version of Yumé made her way up the stairs, her hair drooping over her shoulders. The woman's work apron was still on, her figure hunched over, catching her breath. It was Yumé's mother, Paulette.
"Yumé," she cautioned, "I told you not to panic."
Van was now officially sitting up, facing the mother-daughter pair. He watched as the girl puffed out her cheeks, arms dramatically on her hips.
Van heard a scoff. "Agnès was supposed to meet up with me for some snacks, but she never showed up," Yumé excitedly—or rather, frantically—explained. Agnès was always on time, not a minute late. And on the off chance she was, she always got in touch with her through Paulette.
In other words, something wasn't right.
Van steadied his breathing, doing anything to convince himself that Agnès was alright. Just as crying doesn't put bread on the table, panicking doing help your precious part-timer. Or however the saying goes.
It was already a half-hour til midnight. While Aaron and Co. were in charge of the left side of the city, Van was in charge of the right. He already managed to make headway in his search. From Old Town down to Centre Marché, over to Central Station, and back up to the Tyrell District.
Just as Van reached Trion Tower and began to wonder if he had somehow misplaced the president's daughter, he noticed a disoriented, pinkish figure float across the street, blonde hair flowing every which way. The shopping district's walls cast shadows all around. The nearby stalls smelled vaguely of popcorn and tacos, sounds fading in and out as people discussed the movies and gadgets that caught their eye in the vicinity.
"Can I interest you in some space-themed merchandise?"
Van's eyebrows furrowed. He knows... "No, thanks."
He ran after the girl, casually calling out her name. Once, twice, no response.
"Hey, Agnès?" He shook her shoulders from behind this time, his arms drapped around her like a hug. He playfully rested his hand on her red hat, ruffling her hair in the process. She almost seemed to glow in the late Edith night. Her dolphin tail-like ponytail danced in the wind.
"Van?" Her eyes finally focused. It became apparent that she didn't even realize why she was wandering, or that she even was to begin with.
"You okay?" Now that he was reassured of her safety, his arms were hovering over her instead, her stray hairs just barely grazing his arm.
"I don't..." she paused, her eyes darting around. Her face flushed as she noticed her adult boss' closeness. The memory of her confession rung clear in her mind. "....know..."
Van's face betrayed him; he blinked.