Chapter Text
The rest of the day was spent inwardly panicking and outwardly looking vaguely depressed. He carried on in mental anguish until he got into bed. And it was then, at 2:23am, when a torrent of ideas and inspiration struck through him and made him erratically get out of bed to write all his ideas down. It all felt like an out-of-body experience.
The next day, he woke up late and Ulrich barged into his room to shout at him. After chasing him away, he spent every possible moment procuring materials and ideas for Ulrich’s birthday plan, lasting until the day itself, which we now find ourselves at.
It’s about eight and a half minutes until midnight and he still hasn’t made up his mind whether to tell him at exactly 0 o’clock or in the morning like a regular person. Ulrich wasn’t a regular person- he was a freak (affectionately). But he liked to pretend that he was, so he might just be annoyed by such ‘’’enthusiasm’’’.
Still fully clothed, Adler leans over his computer and looks at the message he has typed out. His eye’s flick to the time: three more minutes until midnight. He slaps his hand to his forehead and sucks in a breath through his teeth. Why was this so hard to figure out?!
Two more minutes. Adler deletes the message and writes it again. Twice. He’s a quick typer.
One more minute. He stands up and paces in circle before looking back at the screen, hands on the desk.
Midnight. He decides he’d rather save face, be nonchalant and go the fuck to bed.
So that’s what he does. Walking away from the computer, he leaves the office, enters his room and gets ready for bed. He lies down, covers himself with the duvet and shuts his eyes.
“…”
All is calm; Ulrich can get his message tomorrow. If he’s unhappy that he’s a couple hours late then that’s just too ba-
Adler leaps out of bed and clambers to the computer, opening up the programme and hitting send. Immediately, a wave of bewilderment at his own actions slams into him and he looks at the time- 00:07.
He presses his lips together at this highly unsatisfying sending-time when he’s startled by a reply from Ulrich.
“Of course he’s up..!” he says deploringly to the empty room.
Ulrich(give me an interesting nickname no adler thats not what i mea 00:07
Thank you, Adler.
His eyes open so wide he looks like a little owl. Who the fuck hacked into Ulrich’s device?
Ulrich(give me an interesting nickname no adler thats not what i mea 00:07
However, I must point out that you are seven minutes late.
Was typing three sentences really that straining on the system?
He sighs in relief- no one has hacked Ulrich. But now he needs to insult him.
00:08
You can’t just accept a nice well wishes, can you?
Ulrich(give me an interesting nickname no adler thats not what i mea 00:08
Well I have to say, if you moved your hair just *slightly* out of your eyes you would be able to see my first message.
00:09
Well I have to say, you told me to ‘never do that again’, of course referring to styling my hair.
Sounds like a contradictory request to me.
Ulrich(give me an interesting nickname no adler thats not what i mea 00:09
Your childish resistance to having the capability to see is not at odds with my wish for you to not style your hair.
The point is, I did thank you. And the second point is, you were still late.
00:10
Fine, I’ll send it to you right at midnight next year.
Ulrich(give me an interesting nickname no adler thats not what i mea 00:10
Instead of being needlessly early why don’t you just go to bed and sleep like you should be doing and say it in the morning, in *person*?
Are you going to use this tardy congratulations as a substitute to actually seeing me in real life?
00:11
Don’t tempt me.
Ulrich(give me an interesting nickname no adler thats not what i mea 00:11
Go to bed.
00:11
Fine.
Logging off.
Ulrich(give me an interesting nickname no adler thats not what i mea 00:11
LOL.
00:11
Shut up.
Ulrich(give me an interesting nickname no adler thats not what i mea 00:12
Wow! So my birthday present is you lying about going to bed. How generous.
Adler sighs and runs his hands through his hair for a moment. When he’s about to turn it off he gets another message.
Ulrich(give me an interesting nickname no adler thats not what i mea 00:14
Not going to wish me a good night? Some birthday this is turning out to be.
00:14
Piss off. Good night.
Ulrich(give me an interesting nickname no adler thats not what i mea 00:14
3>
——————
Unsurprisingly, Adler wakes up early with an antsy tremor in his limbs. Luckily, it was a Saturday which meant absolutely nothing in terms of routine change to Ulrich but to everyone else, it meant that they would not be at work and so Adler could give him his present discreetly.
He was fairly sure that there was no surprise party for him because there was no way it would’ve been planned without him knowing and Ulrich’s famous crash-out in Plesetsk scared off most of the general staff from trying. There was always the chance that that group may have done something, but he’s pretty sure half of the reason why they did it for himself was Ulrich and there’s no world where Adler would willingly subject someone to a surprise party.
He changes and briefly entertains the thought of wearing the carrot suit just to see his reaction but thinks better of it. Gathering his stuff, he resolutely walks to Ulrich’s lab before he can lose his nerve.
Thanks to that cadet’s ratting out of Ulrich’s ploy, Adler was no longer afraid of screwing up the code to the lab, and in a narcissistic moment of uncharacteristic assumptiveness, Adler tries his own birthday as the code.
It clicks open and he wants to laugh maniacally and run away.
He doesn’t because he’s cool and enters the room. Ulrich is sitting in a swivel-chair, facing the door with his legs and arms crossed and transforms into a vibrating exclamation mark. Adler freezes.
“Ah, you’ve made it in! Actually, the lock opens to any code-“
“-Oh.”
“-But at least you’ve finally managed to get in.”
“…”
Adler stares at Ulrich, who sits there, clearly in a light-hearted mood. Ulrich clasps his hands together, seemingly saying ‘go on’ while Adler continues to buffer in the doorway.
Eventually, he walks in and puts his gift next to the desk besides Ulrich and clears his throat.
“…Happy birthday, Ulrich.”
Ulrich makes a happy shape. “Will you sing me happy birthday?”
“I can’t sing.” he says flatly.
“Will you sing me happy birthday?” Ulrich says a little more insistently.
“No.”
Ulrich buzzes static in frustration. “Alright, have it your way.” Turning to the thing Adler has brought, he bends into a question mark. To be honest, it was wrapped a bit poorly and he only had newspapers to do it with, but at least its done its job. “What’s this?”
Adler moves between Ulrich and the gift. “I put something together for you.”
“Clearly.”
“…”
“…”
“…And it includes a puzzle that you have to decipher. To, to get the actual gift. Well, the whole thing is the gift- uh, either way, you’ll see.”
Ulrich taps his finger against his big bulbous head. “A puzzle..! Interesting! Is there a drawback to not solving it?”
“Uhhh… you just… don’t get the satisfaction of completing it.”
“That’s very harsh…” Adler levels him a stare but he either ignores it or doesn’t notice. “Alright then, bring it on!”
Ulrich stands up gleefully to unwrap the package, revealing a rectangular box. It’s made of wood coloured a rich brown, finished off with a dark polish and composed of three compartments: one larger one with a keyhole in the lid and beneath, two drawer compartments each with a dial to input a 4-digit code. A silver cog is on the side of the box and on top is a piece of paper.
Picking it up, Ulrich reads it out:
“‘Your schedule is as consistent as it is boring.
Morning, remain a slave to your addiction.
Noon, retain the illusion of your ‘hunger strike’ being credible.
Afternoon, prolong the war in antithesis to your Prime Minister pacifism.
Evening, sacrifice your sanity by futilely investing in a charity case.
Brown noise is a strange lullaby choice.’”
Ulrich looks up at Adler slowly. “…”
“…”
“What… is this supposed to be..?”
“…A riddle.” It had sounded better in his head.
“That is… an unconventional riddle. It was just a list on insults, really.” he scoffs.
“Creative writing is not my strong suit.”
Ulrich makes a ‘fair enough’ shrug and looks back down at the pathetic excuse of a touching and heartfelt piece of prose.
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…I can give you a hin-“
“Shush, Adler! I’ve been thinking for less than one minute and unlike you, I don’t give up.”
“Das war ein Fehler.” he mutters.
Ulrich ignores him and slowly but surely brings the paper closer to his face as if that would do anything. “Schedule… is boring..?”
Adler takes a seat and leans on his elbow, definitely not intentionally trying to appear bored and smug that Ulrich is struggling so hard with Adler’s incomprehensible riddle.
After a while, he puts it down and looks up. “What am I even supposed to get out of the answer?”
“Uh, that’s the point?”
“No, you misunderstand- is the answer a… joke? A confession?”
“Oh. It gives you a code that you use to open the top compartment.”
With renewed vigor, Ulrich looks back at the riddle. “Hmm! A code…” He picks up the box and observes the pins. “A combination lock with four digits,” he flicks through all of them, “all numbers. So, this riddle contains either four numbers or combined gives a four digit number.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” he says non-commitedly.
Ulrich turns into ellipses for a second before looking back at the riddle. “Six lines… Ah, but four distinct time frames. I’m guessing that they each refer to a number.” he says, looking expectantly at Adler.
Adler shifts uncomfortably in his seat and looks elsewhere.
“…Why aren’t you saying anything?”
“I thought you didn’t want my help.”
“Well, I suppose I normally wouldn’t, but I cannot risk the entire day passing and subsequently not being able to access what’s inside! Also, you’re currently acting like a scolded child so I’d rather you say something.”
“Scolded child..?!”
“You know it’s true.”
“Again with your gaslig- it’s your birthday. Happy birthday,” he grinds out under his breath like a mantra, “To answer your question, yes. You’re correct.”
“I knew it!” he says, holding his fist up towards himself, “And so the first and last line…”
“The last line isn’t important to solving it.”
Ulrich turns into a question mark, no longer ferrofluid but a symbol of language. “Then why put it in? Seems inefficient.”
Adler sighs heavily and Ulrich turns back into ferrofluid as he spikes in defensiveness to Adler’s defensiveness. “Well, if you stopped wasting time pursuing trivial lines of thought then maybe you would have figured out the answer by now and thus figured out what it means!”
“I cannot believe that you are getting petulant with me for thinking about the hidden meaning of a line in a riddle!”
Shit he’s right. But it doesn’t matter, Adler needs to insult hi- It’s Ulrich’s birthday it’s Ulrich’s birthday it’s Ulrich’s birthda-
“Sorry.”
“What?”
“Anyway, just ignore the last line until you get the code.” Adler shrugs.
“…Alright. So, ‘Morning’… Does this all have to do with my daily schedule?”
“Yes.”
“…What I’m addicted to in the morning? Ah! I play Minesweeper at least once when I get up!”
Adler looks at him in despair.
“What? It’s the equivalent of your crosswords.” He turns back to the riddle and slaps the paper a few times, giving Adler flashbacks. “The most common pattern in Minesweeper is 1-2-1 and 1-2-2-1. That is far too many digits but perhaps it indicates… that they add up to four and six respectively. However there is no reason as to why I should choose one over the other, so that must not be it.”
Adler gives him an incomprehensible expression. “No, it’s not.”
“Indeed, it can’t have been so simple. Perhaps… it is a three because the statistic for board difficulty is 3BV! I shall write that down.”
“…”
“…there we go!” says Ulrich, finishing off his beautifully handwritten three with a flourish. “I admit, this is a creative riddle.”
Adler presses his lips together. “Uh, do I stop you if you’re on the completely wrong track?”
“…” Ulrich slowly rotates his head up to Adler then back down and falls to the bottom of his tank, “I’m wrong…”
“Stop being so dramatic- you can’t always be right.” he sighs, “But yes, you’re wrong. This line has nothing to do with your Minesweeper addiction.” Adler pauses. “Because it’s not an addiction so neither are my crosswords.”
“Seems only one of us is self-aware.” Ulrich mutters, crossing his arms. “At any rate, another morning addiction? Oh! It’s so obvious-“ he chuckles, “I take back what I said about this being a creative riddle. In a good way.”
“How can that be in a good way?” says Adler, bewildered.
“Because the answer is satisfyingly obvious. An addiction is essentially a compulsive habit, correct? So the most disruptive and consistent compulsive habit I take part of in the morning is arguing with you!"
Adler sputters. “Uh-wh-“
“-Now, I’m not sure what number would represent this. Perhaps six? Six is associated with The Lovers Arcana so-“
“It is NOT six!”
“Alright. Then, maybe eight! Our interactions are an infinite loop of you embarrassing yourself!”
“Excuse me?! You’re still wrong!”
“Ugh. Then… a zero! Because my head is round.” Ulrich nods.
Adler slouches forward. “…Even if the digit is zero, I’m still telling you that you are wrong because that’s stupid.”
Ulrich makes many anguished movements as he digs deeper to find more meaning in the single digit numbers, Adler watching him dig deeper into a hole that will lead him nowhere. “This line of inquiry is also wrong.”
“What?!” shouts Ulrich, focussing back on Adler.
“Annoying me isn’t an addiction. Actually, the way you describe it does make it seem like that, but I feel like for you it’s more like a genetic disorder- it’s in your… molecules.”
Ulrich undulates like a lava lamp. “Was that supposed to be an insult?”
“That’s for you to decide.”
“I think it was an insult.”
Adler gestures with his arm exasperatedly.
“We’re back to square one. Morning addiction… morning addiction…”
Adler squirms in his chair while Ulrich seriously broods over the riddle in front of him. Checking the time, Adler makes his peace that they will not be finished anytime soon. It takes a few more minutes for Ulrich to have his breakthrough.
“…Oh!” says Ulrich, suddenly sitting up, “Adler, tell me if I am correct or not: does this have to do with coffee?”
He wants to scream thanks to the heavens. “Yes!”
“That’s good to hear, but I’m not addicted to coffee.”
“And I’m not addicted to crosswords.”
“?”
“Wai- whatever. Before you start making some weird theories, you’re wrong.” Ulrich looks vaguely insulted. “The number is in the staff room.”
“Oh, okay. Lead the way.”
They make their way there and it’s thankfully deserted. It’s a blessing for both Adler and whoever would have been there.
“This isn’t really a clever puzzle.” says Adler, “You just need to search.”
“Alright.”
Adler stands uselessly while Ulrich rummages around the entire room. He is completely confused as to why Ulrich begins to search the sofas and tables before the kitchen and says as much, before being called impatient and lazy. Adler stands angrily instead.
He eventually makes it to the cupboard where all the mugs are held, Adler watching in dismay when Ulrich takes a quick glance and closes it again, moving onto the dishwasher. He debates letting Ulrich figure it out naturally but it’s just not worth it.
“Ulrich, look in that cabinet again.”
“The mug one?” He opens it up and activates his thinking pose. “At the beginning of the year there were fifteen mugs. Now, there are eleven… The difference between them is four!” He turns around to Adler excitedly, to which Adler doesn’t change his facial expression in any way but from the way Ulrich reacts you would’ve thought he had bared his teeth at him.
“It’s not that. Take a closer look.”
Ulrich does so and then turns around basically immediately after. “Three, for pi? Because they have a circular opening!”
“No.”
Ulrich buzzes static.
“One of them is not like the others.”
The Awakened looks back in and scrutinises all the mugs. They’re about what you’d expect for any kind of staff room, except of course, with a bit of Laplace Flavour- standard cylinder shapes but all of them had some sort of crazy icon on the side. From a simple chemical formula to the entirety of Darwin’s Theory of Evolution printed on in a font measured in micrometers, none were plain.
That was, except one, that nobody had ever seen before… besides Adler because he put it there.
“What a suspicious mug..!” says Ulrich, almost disgusted.
“Indeed.” Adler says flatly.
“So is the digit one? Because there’s one horribly out-of-place mug here?”
“That would make sense, but no. Think more about your daily routine- what do you do with this mug?”
“Drink from it.”
“What, drink air?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Adler. I drink the coffee. That’s in the mug.” says Ulrich as he points to it demeaningly.
“Y-yes, but don’t you need to make it first?”
“No, that’s what you do.”
“…”
“Speaking of which, I didn’t get one today.” Ulrich says without implying anything but all Adler hears is whining. But it is his birthday… And Ulrich would never figure it out at this rate.
“Give it here; I’ll make you one.”
Ulrich spins himself up into a circle. It’s quickly made because Adler is not a connoisseur and uses instant coffee and boiling water. He slides it over to Ulrich, looking at him expectantly.
“Thank you, Adler.” he says before taking it.
Adler’s eye twitches. The heat-reactive paint that he used to plaster on the number nine is staring him in the face yet is turned away from Ulrich. He admires his shit paint job.
“…”
“…”
“…How does this help me solve the puzzle?”
He can’t take it. “Please turn it around.”
Ulrich does so and clones an exclamation mark. “Oh! A… nine! Is this thermochromic paint?” Adler nods. “That is very cool, even if your nines look like Gs.”
Standing up from leaning on the counter, Adler motions to the door. “Right, one down and three to go. Oh mein Gott this is taking longer than I thought it would.”
“Hmph, do you have somewhere better to be, Adler?”
“No.”
——————
Next was noon: ‘retain the illusion of your hunger strike being credible’.
Miraculously, Ulrich had managed to land on the right topic first-try, it referring to his ten-minute lunch break with his team. It probably had something to do with the fact that Ulrich’s noon-activity could only be that since it would otherwise be the same as morning and afternoon- work.
The two stand in the room where the trickery happens.
Nothing is different from usual other than the fact that Adler is here for once.
“Hmmm….” Ulrich circles the table and chairs while Adler watches, highly doubting that Ulrich will figure out the reasoning behind this one. “One table… eighteen chairs… Eighteen divided by one is-! Oh. Nevermind.”
“I think you should ask for a hint for this one.”
“Why should I do such a thing?”
“Because you’ll never guess it otherwise.”
Ulrich crosses his arms and stands with feet shoulder width apart, the perfect pose to shout, deny, argue, anything. Adler blinks placidly. “I believe I can do this. The answer may be convoluted but I believe I have been around you long enough to know in what ways they could be convoluted.”
“Right…”
A comfortable silence descends over them as Ulrich tries to emulate Adler’s thought process, but Adler has no faith in Ulrich because he basically chose this number on a whim that was tethered to the hint by a decaying thread, and Ulrich was clearly thinking in twenty dimensions and perspectives to get his theory.
“THREE.” he says suddenly, causing him to flinch. “For three meals a day!”
He’s speechless- maybe Adler gave him too much credit. “No. And you have zero meals a day.”
“Then zero.”
“It’s not zero.”
“Damnit.”
Adler is feeling both a little impatient and maybe just slightly sorry for Ulrich. “How about we play hot or cold? Because you’re nowhere near close.” Adler offers.
Ulrich rolls his shoulders as if he’s getting ready to beat Adler up. “Okay. Does it have something to do with food?”
“Uh… this sounded better in my head. Cold.”
“What?! How can it have nothing to do with food? You really are convoluted in mind. Does it have to do with social etiquette when it comes to meals?”
“You’re frigid.”
“I actually think I’m quite flexible.”
“Ulrich, you- it’s your birthday..!” Adler repeats while Ulrich looks at him confused. “Very cold.”
“Alright. How about the eating habits of my colleagues?”
Adler stares at him blankly. “Ignoring the fact that I’m not sure why you’d think I would know that, what numbers would you have said if I said you were correct?”
“Well, Researcher Simmons chews his food exactly five times per bite; Rybakov always has one bread roll with every meal; Diaz eats one sandwich in eight bites-“
He’s not really sure if he wants to know whether Ulrich has stored away any information on Adler’s own eating habits. “Right I get it. Anyway, cold.”
Ulrich spikes about in displeasure. “Is it to do with the room itself?”
“Yes. You’re getting warmer.”
“The furniture?”
“Colder.”
“The… floor of the room?”
“You’ve fallen from the top of Mount Erebus and have been taken back to Ross Ice Shelf.”
“Hmm… the.. the… four?” Adler’s eyes light up in hope, “This room has four walls-“
And then the glimmer disappears. “N-no. But… I suppose you’re hot.”
“Thank you.” Ulrich nods and Adler screws his nose up. “…You looked quite excited for a second. Four? What is fo- oh, this is Common Room 4!”
“Yes! Thank god.”
Ulrich walks over to the door and looks at it to confirm. “Aha! Halfway there now!”
“Hopefully the next one is more straightforward.”
——————
Afternoon- ‘prolong the war in antithesis to your Prime Minister pacifism.’
“…What the hell does this mean?”
Adler shrugs unhelpfully.
“Prime Minister? Does this have to do with the Storm Protocol Research?”
“No, but it’s a fair guess.”
Ulrich looks off into the distance. “War… Oh, I do have an ongoing battle with a sort of, hm, phantom me that I must fight.”
Adler closes his eyes. “I don’t know what you are talking about. I cannot even begin to imagine what you are talking about.”
Ulrich turns to him and now he feels that he must pay attention to every word Ulrich speaks. “One day,” he begins like a wise storyteller, “One day you will be called upon by the Timekeeper. And when that happens, you will be brought to the back of the Wilderness and enter a sort of… dream state.
“Following that, you will feel like you are descending deep into the depths of the ocean and there, you will fight something. It changes every now and again, and from what I’ve heard a few people face different things, but…” Ulrich snaps out of it and pats him on the shoulder. Adler feels cold. “You will understand when the time comes.”
“…Okay. Uhm, you’re wrong though.”
“Flux! Oh- it’s the lab isn’t it?” says Ulrich in an almost disappointed tone.
“Yeah.”
“Did you change the passcode?”
Adler fights to keep the smile off his face and apparently fails if Ulrich’s subtle tremor of annoyance is anything to go by. “…You’ll have to see.”
He isn’t deigned with a response as Ulrich power walks to the lab.
“Doesn’t this bring back memories?” says Adler smugly as Ulrich fumes over the tiny lock.
“Unpleasant memories. There are too many to pick from.”
Adler taps his foot just to piss him off more. “You can’t complain- you change it more than I do.”
“And I need to actually use it more than you do. Do you even need to use it? You’re stuck on paperwork more than on science so you must come here as often as you do purely to change the passcode.”
Adler avoids eye-contact while Ulrich gets steadily more pissed off.
“This is going to make my circuits overload..! Give me a clue.”
“How is this the one you give up on? We do this every week! And it’s basically your job.”
“It’s just making me angry. Tell me the hint!”
Adler sighs and leans against the wall. “Alright. It’s very easy.”
“…”
“…”
“…That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Ulrich bangs his head on the door while he crouches. “Easy…?”
Having seen enough Ulrich despair to balance out what Ulrich inflicts on him, Adler takes mercy. “You’ve also seen this passcode before.”
“…” He starts punching in some buttons. “Three point one four one five nin-“
“I have never used pi for a password.”
“Oh. Hmm. Is it… one zero, one six..” Ulrich looks up at Adler with a scrutinising ferrofluidy gaze. “…seven nine.”
It buzzes incorrect and Ulrich tries a few more combinations.
He’s getting tired and slowly slides down the wall. “Where did you dig that up from?”
“Your lack of awareness astounds me. Constantly. It’s your birthday.”
“…Oh.” he says flatly.
“Let me try mine…”
Incorrect too.
“Easy..? Adler, do you have a favourite shape?”
“Uhh… hexagon.” he says with no conviction as he fully sits on the floor.
It’s a mistake for now Ulrich glowers at him on eye-level.
“Uh- now that I think about it, circle…”
Ulrich turns back to the pad and makes a circle. It’s also incorrect. Ulrich hangs his head before perking up again.
“Are you attracted to women?”
Adler involuntarily chokes on nothing. “Waß?!”
He says nothing and types in ‘80085’. Adler feels insulted.
He begins to type it out in various ways with the keyboard but Adler stops him. “I said it was easy not stupi- actually, it is quite stupid. But it’s not that!” He slouches back against the wall. “It is a word though, not numbers.”
“…it’s stupid, you say? Oh no. Please don’t tell me it’s ‘password’ again!” Ulrich cries.
“No, it’s ‘Password’.”
Ulrich buffers for a second before understanding. “I am disappointed in you.” he mutters while he types it in, shaking his head like a let-down father.
It clicks open, they walk in and are greeted with a post-it note stuck on the screen of a monitor. ‘7’ it reads as Ulrich, losing his composure, takes it with a shaking hand. He darkly puts it somewhere in his body Adler can’t see. Adler simultaneously wants to laugh in his face and grovel for forgiveness but does nothing.
——————
And finally, the last one until the next drawer passcode: ‘Evening, sacrifice your sanity by futilely investing in a charity case.’
Adler watches Ulrich swivelling about in the chair of the lab while he brainstorms ideas.
“I don’t recall intentionally doing any charity, nor do I waste my time, but I suppose I do frequently lose parts of my sanity when it comes to you.” he says, pointedly looking in Adler’s direction, who decides to once again, shrug unhelpfully.
“You don’t think those performance reviews take away your sanity either?”
“Not every evening. Only every month.” Ulrich says dryly. “Ah, but you would think of yourself as a charity case, wouldn’t you?”
“You didn’t ask for a hint.”
Ulrich carries on anyway, a hint of disapproval in his voice. “How insulting to yourself. You may be a pathetic human with no mind for imagination but you’re not helpless. You are, however, resistant to help.”
Adler tries not to feel gratefully embarrassed and succeeds about 50%. “So wouldn’t you call your efforts futile?”
“What do you mean? I have succeeded multiple times.”
He frowns. “Are we talking about different things?”
“If you are referring to me getting you to do things, I do that all the time.” Ulrich nods self-assuredly.
His hackles are rising. “What? No you don’t!”
“Yes, I do.” Ulrich says matter-of-factly, which only makes Adler more indignant. “Last week, I asked you to help me calibrate my hearing module, and even though it was obvious that I was just getting you to read to me you still did i-“
“You were tricking me?!”
“Oh. I thought you knew. Anyway-” Adler gapes at him, “On Tuesday, I told you to organise your folders and you did, even if you were complaining the entire time like a whiny child.”
“I was going to do anyway! This means nothing.” he sneers.
Ulrich is unfazed. “We both know you wouldn’t. And on Wednesday I convinced you to play German Scrabble with me even though I don’t speak it.”
“…I don’t know what that’s supposed to reveal other than you wanted to lose? Why would I have disagreed?”
“I just wanted to try it. And you usually disagree just to disagree so- anyway. I see you are not convinced, Adler. But the most damning example was on Thursday when I tried to hold your hand and you relented after only my twenty-eighth attempt! That was one less than the last monthly average!”
“…” He’s suspiciously certain that his face is going red.
“I have countless more examples,” says Ulrich, “but I think that is sufficient to show that my efforts are not in vain.”
“…Well, congratulations, the last line is about your never-ending presence that’s akin to tinnitus.”
Ulrich shakes his head. “I refute that descriptor. But alright; it’s about us… Hm. Six?”
“Why?”
“Well you see, six is often associated with the devil-“
“Are you kidding me-“
“- and we often meet in your office, which is messy and that is negative and wrong and so hellish and so like the devil.”
“…Should I tell that to 6, the arcanist?”
“Go right ahead. I’m sure he’s not as radical as you as to only see one perspective.”
“Birth… day..!”
Ulrich doesn’t hear him. “Additionally, you say ‘Was zur Hölle’ a lot.”
Upon hearing Ulrich’s less than stellar pronunciation, there is an involuntary physical clenching of all of Adler’s muscles. “It’s not six.” he strains.
“Hmm, alright… eight, as a representative of infinity for you are infinitely irritating.”
“This again? No. It’s not eight either.”
“…Seven!”
“Why do you think it’s seven?”
“Seven is considered lucky, no? I was trying my luck.”
“…”
“Alright, it’s not seven.”
Ulrich crosses his arms and taps his head while Adler collapses onto the table, resting the side of his head on it to look at Ulrich. “…One.”
“…Go on.”
“Because you are my number one?”
“You- that- shut the fuck up!”
Ulrich leans back nonchalantly as he moves on while Adler looks at the desk chalantly as this moment proceeds to lodge itself into his consciousness and become another thing for Adler to replay at night when he’s trying to sleep.
“Zero. Because I have zero tolerance for you.”
“Can we please stop this awful phase of you making the worst puns I have ever heard?”
“Why? It works very well to achieve my goals.” he says seriously.
“I-“ What does that mean?! Knowing Ulrich, he will reveal the answer in about seven months time for no reason. “-okay. Sure…”
“Five, because you have five fingers and fingers allow us to hold hands.” Ulrich says, holding his hands up while abducting and adducting his digits.
How did he even come up with this? “No!”
“Ugh, what numbers have I not done? This is ridiculous- my ideas made sense.”
“No, they didn’t. I thought this one wouldn’t be too hard. Should I just tell you?”
“Wait, one more. Hmm…” Ulrich does some funky shapes as he thinks. “My final answer- three. It represents us.”
“Uh, how?”
“Think of a triad: one corner is you, another corner is me, the other corner is my vessel.”
Adler buries his face in his hands. “….That is so stupid! And you were so close but you chose the answer that shouldn’t have even been an option!”
Ulrich recoils in displeasure that his brilliant idea is apparently majorly wrong. “Well if your answer makes so much sense what is it?!”
“Two. Because…” he takes a breath, “Because it’s the two of us.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“… I suppose that is a better choice.”
“Do you even consider yourself as two separate parts?”
“No.”
“Then?!”
——————
They decided to go back to Adler’s office because even though it was horribly cluttered and full of junk, Ulrich had volunteered himself to clean it last week so it wasn’t too bad and, well, it had just become somewhere that they were both familiar with at this point.
Adler watches as Ulrich inputs the code and prays that it actually works. His prayers are answered as it opens with a muted click and Ulrich wiggles the drawer out. Inside is another note, a key and a small winder to insert into the cog on the side of the box.
The key and winder is inserted into their respective locks by a curious Ulrich, observed by his dear nervous-wrec- sorry, Adler. The lid opens, revealing a silvery instrument of hammers and screws.
“A music box!” says Ulrich with pleasant surprise, “Did you make it?”
“I’m flattered you think that I could make something like this. No, I got people to help me.”
“Ah. Let’s take a listen.”
Ulrich winds the key and the mechanism starts to spin. Out plays a gentle melody of soft plinks, making the moment feel more tender than Adler had intended. He looks at Ulrich, who is calmly undulating but otherwise not giving anything away, and then shifts back to looking at the keys clink as the drum rotates.
Figuring out what piece of music to play had been a challenge. He wasn’t the most familiar with it and he constantly doubted whether Ulrich would like such an uncomplicated melody since previous experience told Adler he liked either ambient noise, horrible alternative noise or, according to Regulus and a complaint from an employee, rock music, but that didn’t seem very appropriate for a music box meant to be relaxing.
In the end, he took up Barcarola’s offer to compose a short tune, to which she was very enthusiastic. The looks he got from the arcanists in Vertin’s suitcase would have made a lesser man scared, and Adler was a lesser man and so was scared. He was simply good at hiding it.
Blinking away the thoughts, Adler looks back at the scene before him. He probably shouldn’t break their serene silence, and normally it’s Ulrich who is the one to do it, but he can’t help but pull them out of the lovely, intimate moment- it feels futile to resist.
“Now you can finally understand what it means to be a baby.” he says without even understanding what he himself is trying to imply.
Ulrich startles out of his trance and somehow looks at Adler dubiously. “…I don’t remember wishing for something like that,” he says after a pause, “Someone has to be the leader in this relationship, and it’s already been established that you are my ‘baby’.”
“W-well, that’s what this is for- you can relax and be the baby instead. God knows you’re fussy enough.”
Adler rotates to the side slightly to avoid direct eye-contact because what the fuck is he talking about?
But it doesn’t really matter for Ulrich is always ready to meet Adler halfway. “Excuse me?! You say that as if you aren’t just as sensitive to everything that happens to you. I peeled off a singular, measly strip of tape from your jacket and you ranted at me for over ten minutes!”
“Oh sure, as long as you ignore the fact that you kept on justifying it and arguing back! If it was truly as inconsequential as you are implying then you should have just shut up.”
Ulrich gently closes the music box as if it were his sleeping child that he was putting to bed before whipping back around to face Adler. “You can’t truly believe that I would do that; you must have gone insane to think that was the case. But the same goes for you. Why couldn’t you let it go?”
“Because it’s my property. You don’t see me lacing up your stupid open boots!”
“Well- that’s-“ Ulrich hits the desk and melts into a puddle before reforming into a triumphant shape. “That’s because you are still the baby!”
“What?”
“A common image of childhood is when the parent ties up the laces of their incompetent child with no motor skills!” Ulrich says excitedly, a genius of all time. “You don’t tie it up because you are too immature to do so.”
Adler feels both confused and weary, subtly different to the usual confused and pissed-off. “What the fuck are you saying? You just likened yourself to a toddler who doesn’t have the capacity to tie his own laces.”
“…”
“…”
“…You can’t button up your own shirt!”
“You- I- you can’t lace your gloves either!”
Ulrich looks at his left arm and reacts as if he didn’t realise he had one. “Well- that’s because, that’s because- put it this way! Would you call a one-armed amputee incompetent for not being able to tie their laces?”
“No? What does that have to do with anything?”
“Use your eyes, Adler.” Ulrich brings his arm out to shoulder level and demonstrates himself trying to tie up his glove with only his right arm.
“Oh. Right.”
“Yes, right. So you are still the baby!”
He wants to scream in rage for being thwarted once more, but the best salve to that rage was making Ulrich rage. “What’s that over there?”
“Huh?” Ulrich turns around and Adler almost aborts his plan in shock of that actually working.
Adler then grabs his arm and starts tying up the laces to which Ulrich snaps back around and barely restrains himself from smacking Adler across the face.
“What do you think you’re doing?!”
“You’re the baby..!” he says with difficulty while Ulrich jerks about.
“No, that’s you! Get off-“
“Hah!” He’s finished tying the glove and immediately retreats in case Ulrich decides that his right as birthday boy includes the right to give him another ‘kiss’.
Ulrich glowers down at it like it’s a shameful tattoo that was forced upon him by a captor. “What have you done..?!”
“Established my leadership.”
“I’m older than you!”
“Do I look like I care about that?”
Ulrich shrugs petulantly. “I suppose not.”
They both stare each other down because really, neither of them have won and they are both losers.
“Speaking of age, it’s still your birthday and you still need to decipher the last code.” says Adler.
“You’re right.” Ulrich pulls the box towards him again and reads out the next clue. “Let’s see here…”
“…”
“… ‘What do you think of the new Laplace Forum user interface?’”
Adler clears his throat. “So? What do you think?”
Ulrich puts down the paper and makes a confused question mark. “Is this a trick question? Where’s the riddle?”
“There is no riddle.”
“…”
“…I’ll give you the code after this.”
“Alright? Then, hmm… I prefer the older UI. This new one is too complicated and frivolous. Plus, it’s a waste of resources when the old one worked perfectly well. However, I don’t think there’s much point in getting upset about it.”
Adler narrows his eyes. “Why is that?”
“You seem very unhappy with it.” says Ulrich with suspicion, “Are you looking to gather a petition to change it back?”
“No. I… just wanted to know what you thought.”
His suspicion doesn’t seem cleared in the slightest but he accepts it anyway. “Well, what can I do about it? I’m not going to waste my energy being bothered by it when I can simply adapt to the new one and move on more efficiently.”
“How logical of you.” says Adler as if it were a serious insult, to which Ulrich spikes about. “They change it quite often and I think the majority of them are useless or even detrimental. It’s so annoying. Don’t you get annoyed by it?”
“Hmph, well logic once again corrupts my mind and I do the same process- I adapt to it. I think you’re overreacting; it’s not that annoying.”
“You really are incredible if you don’t find your entire workflow getting changed every year a humongous pain…” Adler says with sarcasm but a bit of begrudging admiration.
“It’s not that it’s not annoying, it’s just… that- annoying. Like you.”
“Hah, of course.” he says dryly. “I am the most annoying thing in your life.”
“Yes, exactly!”
Adler frowns. “Am I really?”
“I would say so. Not only do your actions and words irritate me but, more recently, because of you everyone else annoys me more!”
“How is that my fault?!”
Ulrich tuts impatiently. “Don’t you remember? That demoness.” he growls.
“…” Adler tries to recall such a person. “…No??”
Ulrich gives the ferrofluid equivalent of rolling his eyes. “I suppose that’s good.” he says before his voice becomes anguished. “But Adler, she was touching your arm..! And then after that- oh, it was like her disgusting words had triggered sleeper agents! All of those depraved creatures rose up to threaten your sanctity with brazen, selfish thoughts. I did what had to be done, of course, but it was indeed inconvenient to deal with them.” Ulrich says seriously as he thinks back to those days of strife, “I had to increased my work hours to fifteen in order to keep them in line.”
Adler stares at him confused. “Fifteen hours..? Wait, I remember now. During that time you only showed your face when I was about to go to bed or when I woke up.”
“Far be it from me to inhibit your eight hours of sleep.”
His eyebrows raise in exasperation. “Yeah, sure. I can’t believe you were working for fifteen hours..! You should have only been scheduled to nine hours at that time.”
Ulrich taps his head, contemplating. “Hunting is a popular human sport, correct? If it helps you feel better, it was more I still had nine official hours and then spent six hunting my prey.”
“…Uh…” That did not make him feel better. “So now everyone is a thorn in your side, not just me and my ‘actions and words’.”
“Correct.” says Ulrich. Adler sighs but it sounds like it’s barely avoiding turning into a pained cry. “Your hair flicking, the excessive tiredness, your refusal to anything I propose- it gets under my metaphorical skin unlike anything else.”
Ulrich says that almost… proudly. Adler isn’t sure what to feel about that other than a bit of the dread at the realisation that he also feels the same way. Still, he can’t help but think this might all be a dream.
“Ulrich, do you even think I have any positive traits?” he says sarcastically.
Adler almost shrieks when Ulrich suddenly stands and puts his arms on his shoulders before shaking them a little. “See? This is what I mean by your words annoying me! Are you even listening to yourself? Do you think I’d ever spend any time with you if I thought you were all bad?”
“Actually, I’d believe you’d walk over to Arcana in a heartbeat to get a chance to pick at her brain.” he says as cooly as he can while he tries and fails to escape Ulrich’s stern grip.
“…Perhaps you’re right. Oh, well actually I can name positive traits about her too.”
“…”
They stare into each other’s souls and Ulrich figures out basic conversation skills.
“…But your positive traits are better and more abundant and your negative traits aren’t genocide.”
He’s getting positive signals but they still feel mixed. “I’m so grateful that the bar is so low for you.”
“Either way, of course you have positive traits! I can’t think of anyone who is as defeatist as you yet is also a hard-worker.”
“I don’t follow.”
Ulrich ignores him in favour of continuing. “You have an interesting way of thinking, to say the least, even amongst you humans. Who else do I have such invigorating and horrible conversations with?”
“Thanks…” he mumbles and turns his head away from where Ulrich is still caging him in. He really needs to get him to stop reading those stupid books. “I just wonder sometimes whether… whether I can keep up with you.”
“Keep up? You are taller than me so I imagine you can do so rather easily.”
Adler lets his head drop forward.
The Awakened tries to think a little more. “Do you mean in mind? Why do you need reassurance? You aren’t the Substitute Director for nothing.” Ulrich says, “I am always happy to explain any concepts to you, just as you have with me.”
Adler raises an eyebrow. “I don’t remember ever being patient with you, let alone taking the time to teach you anything.”
Ulrich finally drops his hands from Adler’s shoulders and tilts his head a bit. “I’ve still learnt a lot.”
They both look back down at the paper on the desk, Ulrich casually winding up the music box again and Adler shifting his weight awkwardly. The melody plays and he feels both more complicated yet more at ease.
“I suppose all I can say is you have strange taste.” he says after a bit.
“Hm. You can see it that way. I cannot taste, after all.”
“That’s true. Besides, you’ve earned the last code- 1502.”
“Ah, great!”
Ulrich rotates the dials on the last compartment and it opens just a bit smoother than the last one. Inside is yet another piece of paper, but upon flipping it around, it’s actually revealed to be a photograph. It looks like it was taken by a camera that was left upright on a random table and accidentally took a photo, the angle tilted and the subjects slightly cut off. The subjects were of course, the two of them. In it was a view from below of Adler facepalming (presumably at Ulrich) and Ulrich staring down at the camera looking somehow insulted as he crosses his arms and holds a hand to his ‘chin’. For some reason, they were covered in soot and the edges of their clothes looked charred.
“Oh! I remember this! After Ludwig’s room was burnt down we went to check it and when we lifted up one of the boxes it exploded!” Ulrich sighs happily like it’s a cute little accident and not like Adler almost got his hair burnt away. Since Ulrich was definitely jealous of Adler’s hair maybe that made sense. “I didn’t realise it was a camera.”
“Me neither. Marguerite passed it to me a few weeks ago. Apparently, she found it in the wreck afterwards.” Adler huffs, “She should be more careful. Who knows what that Butterfly may have also hidden in there? It seems she might have been spying on us, so I’m glad it was Marguerite who found the photo before her…”
Ulrich looks closer at the photo and chuckles. “Haha, you look ridiculous.”
Adler snatches it back and scowls at it. “I know. That’s why I’m giving it to you.” he mutters.
“How thoughtful.” Ulrich says without any hint of mockery.
“…Ja.”
He gives the photo back to Ulrich, who carefully tucks it back into the bottom drawer, and scratches the back of his neck. “That’s it. That was the puzzle.” he says unceremoniously.
The birthday boy makes a contented circle and pats the box. “It was an unconventional one, but I enjoyed it. Thank you, Adler. In fact, I never would have thought you to make something like this. I expected you to just celebrate with me, or get me something small, so this was a surprise.”
“You would have been fine with just me?” he asks.
“Yes,” Ulrich answers easily, “I don’t expect anything- frankly, I don’t really see the need for it- but anything from you is always appreciated.”
“As- as if.” he denies, once again looked away from the love of his life. Since Ulrich is in a good mood, he let’s it slide (1-use item). “I asked quite a few people for ideas, which is probably why some of these are… uncharacteristic. I don’t imagine I executed it the way they had in mind.”
“Yes, only you could make such a terrible two riddles.”
“The second one wasn’t a riddle.”
“Oh? What was it then, exactly?”
“…A conversation."
“…”
“…”
“It was the Timekeeper’s idea.”
“I see…”
The two sit down like it’s a normal day again, Adler on the floor instead of the perfectly usable chair and Ulrich at the desk like he’s lounging on a sun bed. This time though, Ulrich is endlessly winding the music box and watching the parts spin.
Adler is about to indulge in his crossword addiction when he remembers something and digs around his pockets for a brochure.
“How many days of leave do you have?”
“Leave? I think about five-hundred or so.”
“What…” He quickly recovers. “Well, that’s good news, I guess. Do you… want to go somewhere?”
Ulrich stops cranking the music box. “Alright. Where to?”
Adler throws the brochure at him and it smacks him dead on the face. “Oops.” Ulrich tears it off and his stance becomes more threatening. “Have a look yourself and you can decide.”
“…Fine. Is there anywhere you would like to go?”
“…” he smiles ruefully, “Vegas?”
“Ah, the USA! Perhaps it would be interesting to see it again.”
Adler shakes his head and remembers one last thing he should probably say. “Ulrich?”
“Hm? Yes?”
“Uhm… happy birthday. And… I…-Was auch immer, you know…” He gives up and turns back to the crossword.
“My birthday wish is for you to finish your sentence.” says Ulrich immediately.
“…” he looks up then down again and after great contemplation of the pros and cons, he carries out his wish. “…Ich liebe dich.”
“Hm, close enough.” Ulrich says like he’s smiling.