Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kafka prowls the aisles of the Columbian library, looking for nothing in particular to the average onlooker. A harmless little jackdaw, browsing for pleasure rather than business. To the books, however, she seems much more like a full-fledged raven, seeking its prize from row after row of both old and new tomes. She whistles to herself casually. Yes, Kafka is just an ordinary Liberi girl perusing the nonfiction section.

"Hm-hmhm!" Kafka hums. "Five-hundred… Five-hundred and fifty…" she mutters under her breath, counting off categories as she passes them. 

There. Book number five-hundred and eighty-nine, Originium Arts, Catalysts, And Their Effect On The Human Body, sits there in clinically boring binding. Kafka looks to the opposite shelf, as if another book caught her attention. In fact, another book did. A much more cutely bound book in green leather, A Gardener's Guide To A Greener Thumb, sticks out both to her and from the shelf. She tucks a strand of stray hair behind her hood, and then tugs it lower by the reinforced beak on top. 

Her eyes dart left, then right, looking for any onlookers. Pleased by the lack of them, she takes up both books in her arms, and starts off for the librarian's desk without delay. Except, she stops after one step, spotting yet another gardening book. And then another, and then another. She came here for one book, that doesn't mean she can't get several more.

"And this one, and this one, and…" Kafka trails off as she starts amassing more than just a few books. The stack grows heavier with each piece of botanical literature. With a sigh, she starts to put a few back. It might raise questions after all, if she comes into a library with no card and asks to check out too many books at once.

The librarian makes checking out easy. The older Feline signs Kafka up for a library card - that Kafka uses a false identity for - and sends the Liberi on her merry way. Kafka chuckles to herself as soon as she leaves the library's walls for the last time. The city is going to have a hell of a time collecting those late fees from Sally Sherman, a totally real person that will definitely pay for these books that Kakfa absolutely plans on returning. She steps down from the stone stairs and onto the busy sidewalk, quickly disappearing into the crowd.

She reappears a few blocks away, waltzing into a small cafe. It was known for not much else besides having a decent cup of coffee and a quiet atmosphere, things common to most cafes that stay open for more than a year.

"Hey, Kafka!" says the cheery, Feline man behind the counter, "What can I get for you?"

"The usual, and make it double," Kafka says, setting her pile of books down to fetch her wallet. The cashier eyes them for a second while he taps at his register.

"Waiting on someone?" he says.

"Yep! It's been a few years since I've seen her, so I wanna get her something nice," Kafka jokes. She produces a slip of paper money: a green Columbian note, marked with the number ten.

"Alrighty then," The cashier looks at the note, "Ah, your total will be eleven fifty-eight today, actually."

Kafka looks surprised for a moment, before pulling out another note, this one worth five dollars. "Tough times?"

The cashier nods, "Yeah, ever since that new chain opened up on fifth, we've been seeing fewer faces."

"Damn, that sucks!" Kafka says, "Their coffee ain't even that good. Keep the change, would ya? I'll be outside."

"Thank you for your patronage!" the cashier says. With an affirming hum and a huff, Kafka hefts her books back up off the counter, and heads towards the door to the outdoor dining area.

It's a quaint, fenced off area, unfortunately positioned next to the bustling street. There's only one other customer present outside. A familiar Liberi, too absorbed in her notebook to notice Kafka approach and set her books down. The Liberi doesn't look up, instead pushing her half-moon glasses further up a small, cute nose.

"You're early," Kafka comments.

"You're late," Silence corrects her. "I only asked for the one book, did I not?"

Kafka chuckles as she sits, "And I saw a few more I wanted! I've been meanin' to pick up some proper gardenin' books anyway."

"And you figured you'd get your money's worth from that library, so to speak?"

"Unless you plan on returnin' your fancy science textbook."

"Hah!" Silence laughs aloud, "Their research material would be better used in my own experiments."

"I'd say the same for their gardenin' books!" Kafka counters.

Silence nods, finally setting down her notebook to fish her book from Kafka's stack.

"I must thank you again, Kafka, for fetching this for me," Silence says. She doesn't open the book, of course. She would more than likely do so in the comfort of her own office.

"No problemo, captain!" Kafka says with a small salute.

Silence rolls her eyes, "No, really, I simply wouldn't have been able to get this without your help. All the major libraries and bookstores that sell this have been turning me away lately…"

"Is it because…" Kafka trails off, not wanting to say it aloud.

"Yes, my Infection. Or perhaps I've been blacklisted by other members of my own community," Silence pauses before opening her notebook to scribble something down, "Maybe I've been blacklisted because of my status as Infected. I should look into that later."

"Right, yeah, I noticed they were pretty anal about that," Kafka lies. They were, in fact, very relaxed about it. However, Silence would never know, and it lets Silence think Kafka isn't Infected for a little longer. If Silence knew, then she'd start getting on Kafka's case about it and start worrying about her, and wrinkling Silence's brow ks the last thing Kafka wants.

"Mm," Silence hums. She finishes writing, and closes her notebook, "Anyway, about your payment."

Kafka groans. She knows what's coming. "Are you going to offer me a position at Rhine Labs again?"

Silence shakes her head with a slight smile. "Not quite. I do have proper payment for you this time."

Kafka raises an eyebrow. If Silence can actually pay her, then she either got a promotion with Rhine Labs or stopped working there.

Just at that moment, though, another Feline walks out into the outdoor dining area with a small tray. She approaches their table with a smile as she places their disposable coffee cups in front of them. "And here you go! Two coffees, with extra cream, sugar, and caramel. Enjoy!"

Silence shoots Kafka a smug, knowing look as the waitress leaves. "So, you still can't drink proper coffee?" she says.

Kafka's face immediately turns red as she tries to play it off. "I can! I just don't wanna. You know how it is…"

"I do," Silence says. She sips her coffee, crest feathers twitching ever so slightly, "I still like mine much the same, after all."

Kafka takes a sip of hers as well, hoping that they can get back to the discussion of payment before long.

Silence, however, has other plans. "So, how have you been? I haven't seen you in a while."

"I haven't seen you in a while, you mean" Kafka counters.

"Semantics," Silence says, "Long time, no see."

Kafka rolls her eyes, "Well, you know me, I've been bouncing from city to city, same ol' same ol',"

"I recall that you were always a bit of a drifter, yes," Silence says, "Always up to no good."

"Hey, it's a livin'!" Kafka says with pride.

"Indeed it is," Silence says.

"How about you?" Kafka asks.

Silence pauses, and takes another sip. The only sound is the hustle and bustle of the street just nearby, cars and pedestrians alike traveling noisily.

"Well, I've been traveling a fair bit myself, you could say," Silence says.

Kafka tilts her head, waiting for more.

Silence sighs. "I found a new job working for a pharmaceutical company."

Kafka lets out an 'ah!' It makes much more sense that Silence didn't offer her a job at Rhine Labs. Come to think of it, Silence even mentioned it in one of her letters. Some place called Rhodes Island. Of course…

"You'd always be welcome to come join me, you know. There are plenty of benefits, and they're rather generous with their background checks."

Kafka just sighs, "Silence, do you really think they need a gardener like me at a drug company?"

"You do things besides garden, Kafka. We both know this," Silence points out.

"Okay, okay, yes, I'm good at doin' bad stuff!" Kafka admits. It's true, she's done her fair share of fighting, stealing, and smuggling for longer than she's known Silence. "But that doesn't mean I'd be useful."

"Wouldn't you know it, I have the perfect opportunity for you then."

"Silence…" Kafka starts, "You're really gonna disappear for so long and start givin' me job offers again?"

Kafka can see Silence's feathers ruffle slightly. "Kafka, you know I'm just-"

"Just lookin' out for me?" Kafka interrupts.

"Yes, that's all," Silence says.

"I'm doin' just fine," Kafka counters.

Silences closes her eyes and lets out a deep breath. "Then why are you taking jobs like this?"

"I did this because…" Kafka catches herself. She knows she did it because she thinks of Silence as a friend. Silence knows that too. They both know that admitting that is the last thing she wants. "Because I was bored," she says.

"Most people aren't bored on a Wednesday at three in the afternoon. Unless they don't have steady work."

"I don't have steady work, yeah. But I can always find it when I need it. Look, I can feed myself, I have somewhere to sleep, and I'm not gettin myself Infected. Ain't that good enough?"

"Where do you sleep right now?"

"That's not important," Kafka says. Truthfully, she was crashing at a friend's place at the moment. A Liberi girl she helped snag some clothes with had been more than happy to let her sleep on her couch for a few days.

"If it's not important, then come stay with me." Silence insists.

"And where do you stay now?" Kafka asks.

"The company I work for actually provides room and board," Silence says, "Like Rhine Labs, only much better."

Kafka groans. "This is just like when you worked at Rhine… Look, just pay me, and hit me up again when you need my help, okay?"

"Now, now, Kafka, is that anyway to speak to an old flame?" Silence says.

Kafka goes stiff. Of course Silence would bring that up. They had a brief fling when they had first met. While Kafka enjoyed it while it lasted, Silence eventually decided she had other priorities, and left for a job at Rhine Labs. Naturally, there were no hard feelings, and they were still friends after all that.

"More like a soggy match," Kafka says, after a moment.

Silence holds up her hands. Then, she takes out her wallet, much to Kafka's joy. "Alright, alright, here's the money I owe you," she says. Silence passes a few bills along the table to Kafka, who quickly scoops them up and counts them. Fifty Columbian dollars, as agreed on for such a minor heist.

"Thank you very much!" Kafka says, jokingly blowing Silence a kiss. 

Silence simply adjusts her glasses. She picks up her textbook and notebook on one hand, and her coffee in the other. "I have a much more… lucrative job in mind for you though, if you'd like to hear about it."

"And what's that?" Kafka says. 

Silence stands from her chair, making to leave. "Well, it'll be dangerous and a bit under the table, so to speak."

"This already sounds like my kinda deal!" Kafka rubs her hands together almost comically.

"Excellent," Silence says, "That's exactly the kind of confidence I need from you for this. I'll text you a time and place to discuss it later this evening."

"That sounds good… but can't you give me a little somethin' to nibble on?" Kafka asks.

Silence groans, "If I tell you, it would be quite awkward for you to back out of it, you know?"

"I'll do it then!" Kafka says, "Cross my heart and hope to fly." Kafka doesn't know why she's agreeing to do it already. Maybe she's getting soft, and just misses doing things with Silence. Maybe she's bored. It's probably just the former though, combined with a healthy dose of greed. She'd only tell herself it's the latter, though.

Silence chuckles after a moment of pause, "Ah, right. I shouldn't have expected less from you, really." The Liberi leans down to whisper in Kafka's ear. Silence is short, but Kafka is shorter, making the sight a touch humourous for the average onlooker. And that's all they would see, was an owl whispering nothing at all into the little crow's ear.

"Have you ever heard of Mansfield Prison?" Silence says.

Kafka's heart pounds at that name. Being one of the most notorious prisons in Columbia, it would be reckless of her not to know about it. Whatever Silence has planned involving it, though, it has to be exciting. Kafka laughs quietly. Silence always did have a wild streak to her, even if she had a stick up her ass usually.

"Alright, text me the deets later," Kafka says, "I'm all in on this. Consider it a favor."

Chapter Text

Months later, Kafka stares out of the window of the Convalescence Garden, watching dark clouds brewing as far as the eye can see. She's now officially a Rhodes Island employee, if begrudgingly. The Mansfield incident had already been talked about to death by Silence, and it had seemed as though Kafka was perfectly qualified for whatever work they had at this supposed pharmaceutical company. It's noon, of course, in the middle of an awful monsoon season. A torrential downpour is to be expected any minute now. The sun lamps built into the roof shine brightly, giving the whole place an odd ambience. It's as if the world might end soon. Kafka leans closer, hands resting on the inches-thick glass separating her from the elements, and sighs. She can faintly hear Perfumer and Podenco discussing something or other on the other side of the garden. Podenco says that the soil for her lavender herbs needs adjusting. Perfumer is giving her advice on just how to do so. A third noise breaks Kafka's reverie, though.

Silence approaches from behind, her shoes making little noise on the concrete floor and rubber mats of the greenhouse. "So, I take it you left the note on my desk then, Kafka?" she says.

Kafka turns on one heel to face the taller Liberi. "You betcha! I need your help with somethin'," she says.

Olivia cocks an eyebrow. "Oh? This is quite a turning of tables. What could you possibly need help from me for?"

"Well," Kafka starts, "I'm makin' a scavenger hunt for… Someone." She doesn't want to admit that it's for the children in the nursery. "I was wonderin' if you would know what lil' Ifrit might find interestin'?"

"Little?" Silence scoffs, "Last I checked, she's taller than you by quite a bit."

"Hey!" Kafka pouts, "Just because she's tall doesn't mean she ain't a kid!"

Silence laughs softly, to Kafka's embarrassment. "You have a point. Regardless," she takes a moment to adjust her glasses, her gaze piercing right through Kafka, "I'm not quite sure Ifrit is one for something as childish as a scavenger hunt. At least, she would think she's too old for it. You know how children are."

"Yeah, I was one," Kafka says.

"And you still look like it," Silence teases.

Kafka's cheeks flush red again, "Olivia! I oughta put a piece of gum on your pillow."

"Relax, relax, I'm only teasing," Silence says. "I'll help you with your little game, under one condition."

"Hm?" Kafka tilts her head.

Silence says nothing. Then, with a start, "Oh, you expected me to tell you?"

"Yep," Kafka says expectantly.

"Well, I won't."

Kafka groans, "Olivia, you did this with Mansfield too! Give me a break for Pete's sake…"

Silence sighs. "Fine, if you really must know… I'd like you to take me to dinner," she admits.

Kafka is quiet for a moment. Then, with a sly, knowing grin, she speaks, "That's unexpected. Did someone miss me?" Secretly, her heart thumps a little harder at the prospect of Silence wanting to try again.

"Don't get your hopes up." Silence's feathers ruffle up slightly. She smooths them down, and continues, "It's not like that. Ptilopsis has been rather insistent that I find a romantic partner."

"Mhm?" Kafka hums, feeling a knife drop through her gut instead.

Silence sighs, "And to say the least, it's a bit of a nuisance. So, you go on a date or two with me, Ptilopsis stops nagging me to bed someone, and we all walk away happily." She extends a hand to Kafka. "Do we have a deal?"

Kafka considers for a moment, then pulls off one of her bulky gardening gloves, and shakes Silence's hand. If they both did a good job pretending it was a date, that alone would be nice. She can't help but notice that even if cold, the researcher's hand is just as sweaty as hers. "It's a deal," she says.

"Good, now this scavenger hunt. Who is it for?" Silence asks.

"Well," Kafka stops. "It's for Pinecone, you see? I'm hidin' some of her things as a prank," she lies.

"A prank?" Silence raises an eyebrow.

"Yep! You know how I am, Olivia!" Kafka beams back.

With a sigh, Silence fixes her glasses again. She turns to sit on a bench nearby. It's exactly the kind you'd find in a garden, made of wrought metal twisted in intricate curls and swirls. "Very well," Silence says, "Come, we'll discuss it for a moment."

Kafka does a lil clap as she strolls over to take her seat next to Silence for a long conversation.

Later that evening, Kafka smooths out the front of her hoodie while standing in front of the door to Silence's dormitory. Certain circumstances - namely, Ifrit - permitted her to have a roomier place than most other operators. Not that Kafka has never been invited in. She's dressed up as much as she could for a night out on the landship's commercial district. Admittedly, her wardrobe has always been limited, and she hopes that her slightly torn jeans and old, faded hoodie won't make Silence regret asking her on a date.

A fake date, she reminds herself. That's right, she was just going to take Silence to that twenty-four hour Columbian diner. They'd eat, chat a bit, and then they'd go their separate ways for the evening. She reaches out and knocks on the sliding door once, then twice, then thrice. There's muffled conversation beyond, as if people were raising their voices to be heard across what may as well be a moderately-sized apartment. 

The door then slides open, with a slightly familiar Sarkaz showing her face. "Um… who the hell are you?" She's much taller than Kafka remembers, taller than Silence even. Kafka suddenly feels unusually small and sheepish.

"I'm Kafka, I'm sure Silence said something about me?" she says.

Ifrit tilts her head to the side, as if thinking. Then, "Oh! Right, you need her?"

Kafka nods.

"I'll let her know, but she said she was busy with a date tonight." In a second, the door slides back shut in Kafka's face.

Kafka doesn't quite know what to do with herself. There's muffled yelling behind the door, and it slides open again. This time, It's Silence. Kafka instantly notices how much more nicely dressed she is, with a simple, but sleek, black dress and a muted green coat on top. Even her face seems different, no doubt wearing more makeup than the average workday demands.

"I'm sorry about that, I forgot to tell her exactly who to expect," Silence says, smoothing out the front of her dress, "Well, shall we get going?"

Kafka stands there, speechless as she sees Silence in a way she hasn't for years. Their breakup wasn't particularly rough to Kafka, but it wasn't kind either. When Silence waves her hand in front of Kafka's face quickly, though, she snaps back to the moment.

"Yeah! Yep. Yes," Kafka all but stammers. She holds out an arm for Silence to loop her own through. "Allow me, madam," she teases.

Without a moment's hesitation, Silence obliges. Kafka's heart pounds in her chest as they walk off towards the nearest elevator. It happens as a blur, the familiar feeling of Silence being so close to her in such a context nearly erodes whatever facade she's put up in preparation. As soon as the elevator doors close behind them, though, Silence separates herself from Kafka. She lets out a sigh and rests against the wall.

"So…" Kafka starts, "You look nice tonight!"

"It's all for Ptilopsis's sake," Silence says. "The more convinced she is that this is a genuine date, the more likely she is to be satisfied."

Kafka gulps down the stone in her throat formed with the reminder that this isn't a real date at all. "What's the deal with you two anyway?" she asks.

"She's my colleague," Silence says, "Sometimes, my confidant. We stuck together once we left Rhine Labs."

"Sounds a lot like bein' friends," Kafka says.

Silence chuckles, "I suppose you're right. She cares about me far more than I like, sometimes."

"Riiight," Kafka says.

"So, you don't seem as…" Silence trails off.

"Prim and proper?" Kafka offers.

"That'll suffice," Silence says, "Where do you plan on taking me, anyway?"

"Oh, I know a lil' diner," Kafka smirks, "They do a hell of a steak dinner if I say so myself."

"Columbian?" Silence asks.

Kafka nods, "Of course."

"At least I'll enjoy the food, thank you."

"And not the company?"

"Kafka, you know that's not what I mean."

Kafka laughs, "Yeah, yeah, I know whatcha mean, I'm just messing with you."

The subtle push of the elevator beneath them slows and stops. The doors open with a ding.

"Lucky us," Silence says, "We got an entire elevator ride to ourselves."

"Here's hopin' for a second one later," Kafka says. She holds her arm out for Silence again, who simply walks past her. Kafka deflates slightly, remembering that looks aren't quite as important now.

"Where is it, exactly?" Silence says.

Kafka seizes the chance to grab hold of her wrist, instead, half-pulling Silence behind her as she takes off. "Just follow me!" she says.

It's easier said than done for Silence. With all the twists and turns through the mall-like labyrinth of Rhodes Island's commercial district and the bobbing and weaving through its crowds, Silence very well could have lost Kafka for good. Soon enough, though, they arrive at a retro-themed restaurant front, tucked away in a side corridor that seldom sees foot traffic. Without hesitation, Kafka pushes open the door and tugs Silence along with her. The bells above the entryway jingles over the din of the modestly-packed diner, and a hostess greets them with a smile.

"Hello! Table for two?" she says, already preparing two menus.

"You betcha!" Kafka says.

Silence, meanwhile, spends her time taking in the decor. From the checkerboard floor tiling, the colorful leather seats, the ribbed metal table edges, she can only surmise one thing.

As she's seated in a booth directly across from Kafka, she sighs, "You really missed Barney's Diner, huh?"

Kafka immediately flushes at the name of her favorite restaurant from Columbia, "H-Hey, can't a gal just like a good ol' diner?"

Silence smiles, barely laughing behind closed lips. "Fair enough. It's not like I didn't like the place either. How's the menu?" Silence asks, already opening hers.

"They've got all the good stuff," Kafka says, "Burgers, breakfast, steak, chicken, you know?"

"Alcohol selection?" Silence says without looking up.

"Oh no, you're not drinking tonight," Kafka says. Silence is a notorious lightweight, and Kafka doesn't want to be responsible for her if she turns into a hot mess.

"Oh, please Kafka, I'm not the starry-eyed dork you knew back in Columbia," Silence shoots back. "If I want a drink, I'll have one."

"Alright," Kafka holds up her hands, relenting as quickly as she opposed Silence. "They've got some pretty nice whiskey if you ask me," she says.

"I didn't know you drank whiskey," Silence says.

"I don't! But I hear a lot about it."

"I see. I'll ask the waitress then."

Speaking of the devil, the waitress arrives at their table with a notepad and pen at the ready.

"Hello! My name is Cindy, and I'll be your waitress! What'll it be for you two tonight?" she asks eagerly.

"A glass of your best bourbon," Silence says without waiting, "Oh, and a club sandwich, please?"

Cindy nods, then looks to Kafka. "I'll have the bourbon-bacon-burger whatever meal," Kafka says, "And a glass of water will be fine, thanks."

"Alrighty!" The waitress exclaims, voice raising as she finishes writing. "I'll be right out with those in a bit. Can I get you a basket of fries while you wait?"

"Sure," Kafka says.

"Gotcha! Just let me know if you need anything, you two!" The waitress walks off after a short pause, leaving the two in silence. Silence then, ironically, is the first to speak.

"The decor is nice enough, even if the view isn't stellar…" she trails off, staring out the window and into the storefront of a beauty salon not even a stone's throw away.

"Ah, you get used to it!" Kafka says, "Besides, the view at Barney's wasn't great either."

"You have a point," Silence says, "And we still went there often when we did date. Still, It's peculiar that you brought me here of all places for dinner."

Kafka pretends to check her nails instead of reacting to what was a thinly-veiled accusation. She really should take her chipped nail polish to that salon soon. "Hm?" she says, as if she wasn't paying attention.

"Oh, nothing," Silence says. She continues to stare out the window.

"Alrighty," Kafka responds. It was bad enough that her crush on Silence got dredged up again. If Silence found out, she would never live it down.

Conveniently, Cindy returns just in time to deliver a paper-lined basket of fries and drinks for the supposed couple. Kafka tosses one of the fries into her mouth as Silence tidily digs into them.

"Ain't someone hungry?" Kafka comments.

"Hush," Silence says, "If I'm going to be drinking, I'd rather not get sick doing it, is all."

"Sure," Kafka teases. "You were always like this back in Columbia, y'know? You barely ate a damn thing in front of anyone, but the second I took you out someplace, you got an appetite out of nowhere."

"I don't eat out that often," Silence explains, "I rarely eat good food, even."

"Ptilopsis doesn't feed you?"

"She does, on occasion, but she's a busy woman too."

"So what have you been eating?"

Silence adjusts her glasses, "Well, since I've been single… Mostly instant foods and nutritional supplements."

"No wonder you're so cranky now!" Kafka laughs.

"Is that a new development?" Silence says dryly. 

Even so, Kafka finds it funny, since it's Silence's way of telling a joke. So, the smaller Liberi laughs again, and earns a small smile from Silence. It vanishes when Silence takes a sip of her alcohol though. The way she tries to keep from recoiling in disgust is all too apparent.

"You still don't like alcohol," Kafka notes.

"Correct, but I am a fan of how it pairs with certain foods." Silence says.

Kakfa snorts with laughter at her excuse. Secretly, she's enjoying this much more than she thought she would. It certainly beats business calls and lecturings from her, anyway. It reminds Kafka of a better time, when this happened on a semi-regular basis. Suddenly, a peculiar doubt occurs to her. Does she miss Silence as a girlfriend, or just as a friend?

"Anyhow," Silence says, "How has Rhodes Island been treating you?"

Kafka drums her fingers on the table. Right, she was in the middle of a conversation. "It's so-so," Kafka says, noncommittally. "They pay me."

"And the Oripathy treatments?" Silence says. It was no secret to Silence that Kafka was receiving better medical treatment than she could elsewhere in Columbia. It tugs at Kafka's heartstrings just a little that Silence cares, though. She definitely misses her as a girlfriend.

"They're alright," Kafka begrudgingly admits, "I'm sore like hell sometimes though…"

Silence turns back to the window, resting her head on one hand and swirling her drink in the other. "I see. That's what everyone says," she says.

"So… pretty neat that I'm pretty well off for bein' Infected, huh?" Kafka tries to joke.

Silence glares at her before taking a swig. Then, she says, "You could've been a lot worse off, Kafka."

"But I'm fine now!" Kafka responds, "At least, as fine as I can be…"

Silence shakes her head. "You should've just told me sooner, I could've done something-"

"Olivia, I don't need your handouts or your pity, okay?" Kafka barks back.

"Well, this is awkward," Cindy says, having arrived just in time to catch the last few sentences. She quietly sets their dishes down in front of them: A turkey club for Silence, and a savory-smelling barbecue burger for Kafka. "Let me know if you need anything else. Enjoy your meal!" Cindy says.

"Er, you too," Silence says. As soon as she realizes her blunder, though, the waitress is already gone.

If there was any slack in the tension at the table, it's quickly picked up. Kafka feels more sad than angry, though. Doing something quietly for once in her life, she tucks into her food. 

Silence takes that as a sign to start talking. "I don't pity you, Kafka. I just want to know that you're alright."

Kafka chews for a moment, then swallows. "Well, I am," she says. "So you don't have to worry about me."

"Mm," Silence hums, digging into her own food. "I like you too much not to worry."

Kafka is taken aback by her statement. Did Silence mean anything by that, or was she just saying that Kafka was a good friend? Is she still sober, or - no, she's not. Her cheeks are already flushed slightly, and she's barely done with her drink.

"Let's just finish up and get you home, alright?" Kafka says. This night took a slightly heart-crushing turn, but she could live with that. All she had to do was act like she cared about Silence. Then Silence would see through that, and figure out that Kafka was almost angry about how the night was. That though, was also a ruse. In reality, if she were to peel back another layer, she would find Kafka vulnerable and hurt. And that wouldn't end well for either of them.

Silence sighs, "Alright. Thank you for taking me out, Kafka, I really enjoyed this." Then, she adds, "We should do this again sometime, wouldn't that be nice?"

"Do you plan on gettin' so hammered next time?" Kafka retorts with a forced, but well-rehearsed smile. She ignores the fact that Silence seemed to be inviting her on another date already.

"And if I do?" Silence says between bites of her sandwich. "Will you carry me back to my room with those twigs you call arms?"

"Nope! I'll drag you back kicking and screamin' though,'' Kafka beams. It cheers her up, picturing it.

"We'll see about that," Silence says confidently. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kafka asks.

"Nothing. This liquor is a touch stronger than I anticipated it would be, is all."

Kafka snickers, "Need me to drag you back already?"

"I can still walk just fine," Silence says. Her face is now completely red as she pouts at Kafka from behind her glasses.

"Okay, okay!" Kafka says, "But don't blame me if you fall over."

"I'm not gonna!" Silence slurs. She loses her balance as she makes a dramatic hand motion. Then, with a slight modicum of composure, "We've talked plenty though. Let's finish our meals now," she says.

Kafka shrugs. "If you say so," she says with a grin. As much as she loathes having to dance to this false beat with Silence, she's relishing the chance to watch the researcher lose her composure. Silence sticks her tongue out at Kafka as the latter bites into her burger once more.

The elevator door opens with a ding. Kafka, ever smug about it, all-but drags Silence onto her floor. Silence had made it to the elevator, at least. Then, she crumpled onto the elevator floor. Kafka had been so busy coaxing her back to her feet, she forgot to make a joke about having the elevator to themselves again.

"I'm fine to walk, really," Silence says unconvincingly.

"Sure," Kafka grunts. She hefts Silence up, her arm around Silence's back and Silence's arm wrapped around her. "And I'm a movie star!"

"Is that what you'd like?" Silence asks. The chuckle she makes after gives away her drunkenness more than anything could. "I think you could pull it off, you know."

Kafka nearly drops Silence again at such a blatant compliment. She doesn't, though. Instead, she manages to keep her grip and keep inching forward down the dimly lit halls. She's just drunk, Kafka tells herself, She doesn't mean any of it.

Silence giggles as Kafka adjusts her hand. "Hey, watch where you're touching me, we're still in public," she says.

"There's nobody around," Kafka excuses herself first. Then, realizing what Silence implied, "I'm not even touchin' you like that!"

"You could, though," Silence says. Kafka's heart nearly stops.

"Come again?" Is all she can say.

"You heard me," Is all Silence says in response.

Kafka chooses not to reply to her, instead making a sigh of relief as they turn down the corridor that's home to Silence's apartment. "I swear, you're just as bad a drunk as always," Kafka says.

"I know you like it," Silence says.

Kafka turns to look at her. "Huh?"

"Look," Silence says, rubbing her face with her spare hand. Remarkably, not a bit of her makeup comes off. "The door's right there, how about you give me a goodnight kiss?"

"Oh, um, alright," Kafka says, half-wary of Silence at this point.

And she has every right to be, as Silence promptly pushes her against the wall. Her lips follow suit, crashing against Kafka's. They're hungry, soft, and taste like booze and lipstick.

"H-Hey," Kafka ekes out between kisses, "Olivia, what're you doin'?"

Silence's hands find her hips, keeping Kafka firmly in place. A shiver goes up her spine, and Silence kisses her again. Kafka doesn't try to break free, even as alarms blare in her head. She isn't sure how much of this Silence means, but she had no idea how much she missed Silence like this.

Moments pass before Silence, now towering over Kafka, pulls back for breath. "Come to bed with me," Silence says, "Please."

"Tell me, what's goin' on?" Is all Kafka says.

Silence's face turns deep red as she furrows her eyebrows, "Don't act like I'm stupid, Kafka, I can tell you've missed me since you picked me up…"

Kafka's heart drops, guilt rapidly spreading through her.

"The old-fashioned diner, the way you looked at me when you picked me up, all of it," Silence continues. "I know I said this was fake, but I miss having someone…"

"Olivia…" Kafka says. Any words she had are replaced by a quiet moan as Silence nibbles at her neck. Her stomach goes into freefall.

"Please, Kafka?" Silence asks again, "Won't you come inside?"

Deus ex machina comes in the form of the door to Silence's apartment opening. The two of them are suddenly bathed in the light of Silence's living room.

"Silence?" Ptilopsis says, stepping outside in a silk nightgown. "I heard a commotion, would that be you and… Kafka?"

"Hey Ptilopsis!" Kafka says. Secretly thankful for the other Liberi, she takes the chance to gently push Silence off of her and towards Ptilopsis. "I was just dropping Silence off, she had one too many to drink, you know?"

"She had one drink?" Ptilopsis asks in a monotone voice. "Hah! Just kidding. I will ensure Silence arrives safely in her bed. Thank you for treating her to dinner, Kafka," Ptilopsis says.

"Hey, wait," Silence says before being scooped up by Ptilopsis. Almost embarrassingly, Ptilopsis waves at Kafka, and even more so, Ptilopsis makes Silence wave at her too. 

With a wave of her own, Kafka all but bolts from the scene. She turns the corner and sinks against the wall, clutching her head in her hands.

"What just fuckin' happened?" She mutters to herself. Did she do something wrong? Silence wasn't incorrect, she did want to get back together with Silence, but not like that.

I miss having someone, Silence's words ring in her ears. If she wants just anyone, and not her in particular…

"It was just the alcohol," Kafka tells herself. She stands up, and brushes her hoodie off. Why couldn't Silence just talk like a normal person? Letting her have that drink was a mistake, even if it was hilarious watching her get so drunk so fast. Even if she was cute in that dress, even if her makeup did make her look amazing-

Kafka slaps herself in the cheeks a few times. "I need to get some sleep," she says to herself before going off to find her own room.

Chapter Text

Silence wakes up with a hell of a hangover and next to no recollection of what happened after she started drinking the night prior. She's not even in her own bed, which isn't exactly strange to her. What is strange to her is that she's woken up in Ptilopsis's bed. The owl in question is nowhere to be seen, though. Her computer terminal is still on at her desk, even if in standby mode, and the door is cracked. 

Silence tries to stand up and finds the world spinning under her feet for a second. She regains her footing. She barely registers that the world is a blur to her until she goes to adjust her nonexistent glasses. On the desk, beside Ptilopsis's keyboard - an old, vintage thing that's always made more noise than Silence likes - is a glass of water with a note.

"Good morning Silence, I hope this note and glass of water find you well,"

If her migraine is anything to go by, they haven't.

"I left a change of your clothes in my desk chair. In addition, I have gone out to acquire food appropriate for your condition. I will be back momentarily, please do not fret. Sincerely, Ptilopsis."

Sure enough, peeking over the top of Ptilopsis's chair reveals a change of her everyday clothes, along with appropriately plain undergarments. Her glasses are folded away neatly atop the pile. Silence sighs. She grimaces as she takes up the glass of water and gulps it down all at once. Once that's done, she begins stripping out of her dress, which Ptilopsis had left her in, and begins to put on her new clothes. She catches a slightly unfamiliar scent as she goes to toss her sweater dress away. Upon a second sniff, it's slightly earthy and herb-like. Kafka is brought to mind first, of course, and memories of last night come flooding back, as if they were a dream she suddenly, vividly remembered.

When Ptilopsis finds her, it's face-down on Ptilopsis's bed, groaning into the sheets, having not bothered to put on anything after stripping down to her lingerie. Ptilopsis takes a moment to examine the situation before knocking in the door.

"Silence, are you feeling unwell?" she asks in her usual, detached but genuine mannerism.

Silence picks her head up for a moment. "That's one way to put it," she says before dropping her face back into the sheet.

Ptilopsis tilts her head to the side. "I have obtained breakfast for us, Silence," she says, hoping the prospect of food would cheer her up.

"What is it?" Silence asks.

"Pancakes, hashbrowns, and bacon," Ptilopsis lists. Then, she adds: "It is still warm. Please get dressed soon if you would like it to remain that way when you begin your meal." Leaving the idle threat of a cold breakfast with Silence, Ptilopsis exits and closes the door behind her.

Silence grumbles and mutters to herself before rolling over and sitting up. Hopefully, Ptilopsis would be able to answer a few questions alongside breakfast. Silence quickly changes her underwear, tugs on the frilly blouse and 'mom jeans' Ptilopsis left for her, slips on her glasses, and is stopped by just one thing missing before she goes for breakfast: her phone. Frantically, Silence pats herself down for it. As a small convenience, though, a buzzing sound comes from the desk. Right, Silence must've missed her phone on Ptilopsis's desk. She's practically blind without her glasses, after all. She picks it up, and only briefly looks at the screen. A text from Kafka causes her to quickly put it in her pocket, though.

Outside, in the small, combination kitchen and dining room, Ptilopsis is seated already, and has served up breakfast on proper plates. Silence ignores the takeout containers haphazardly stuffed into the bin in favor of this kind gesture. Silence takes a seat across from her roommate before realizing someone is missing.

"Where's Ifrit?" Silence asks. Ifrit would be overjoyed to have a breakfast spread like this.

"Oh," Ptilopsis answers, "I sent her off to Miss Lena's Convalescence Garden to enjoy some time with her peers."

"Right… What time is it?"

"Eleven forty-three a.m."

Silence pauses in the middle of cutting a bite from her pancakes. "I was out for that long?"

Ptilopsis nods. "Oh God," Silence says. Another thought enters her mind. "Why was I even in your bed?"

"You were very inebriated last night," Ptilopsis says. "I decided it would be most optimal to let you rest in my bed so that I could continue working and monitoring you at the same time," she drones on. That doesn't explain the change of clothes, the glass of water, and the breakfast. Then again, Ptilopsis doesn't exactly have to explain being courteous, even if Silence personally doesn't understand why. People are often an enigma to Silence, even Ptilopsis, with her strange mannerisms, is more than human enough to confound Silence.

"I see. Thank you, Ptilopsis," is all Silence says.

"You are welcome. Would you like to discuss the events of last night?" Ptilopsis asks.

"No."

"You seem distraught, likely due to your advances on Kafka last night," Ptilopsis notes anyway.

It's true. Shame sits like a knife in her chest when she thinks about how she likely ruined whatever friendship she had with Kafka, let alone any potential relationship. Silence says nothing and continues eating.

"Kafka messaged me," Ptilopsis continues. "She told me about the… circumstances of your time together last night."

Silence winces, "So then…"

"Yes, I'm aware it was a ruse," Ptilopsis says. Her expression is unchanged, but there's a hint of disappointment in her voice that further twists the knife.

Silence drags her hands down her face, "That little…"

"I'm willing to overlook this, however," Ptilopsis says as if she had any power over Silence. In truth, she had no such control, but her opinion was valued enough by Silence that she might as well.

Silence waits. She's certain there's a condition to match. The quiet between them stretches on and on before Silence raises an eyebrow. "That's it?" she asks.

Ptilopsis nods. "Scolding you would do nothing to affect your mood in a positive manner, and it would be redundant to inform you of your mistakes. Thus, it is irrelevant."

"Alright then," Silence says. "At least I can enjoy my day of being hungover in peace, then."

"Actually," Ptilopsis starts, "When you finish with your food, I have an errand for you."

"An errand? That's rare."

"Yes. Ifrit left her medication in her room when she left, as I noticed when I brought your breakfast in."

Silence groans. Of course Ifrit would forget her medicine. She probably forgot to take it this morning as well. She definitely had to get it to her as soon as possible. She takes up her fork with plans to wolf down her food quickly. "I'll get on that as soon as I'm done eating," she says, more to herself than Ptilopsis. The latter, still pleased with that answer, nods subtly in approval, and allows Silence to finish her food without further interruption.

About half an hour later, Silence strolls into the Convalescence Garden. Her open-toed heels and large leather handbag only serve to make her look more like a single mom. She can already see some children playing among the plants, laughing as they try to identify them from a sheet of paper. She looks around, but doesn't see Ifrit anywhere. So, she presses further into the garden, until she finally sees Ifrit hunched over a patch of white flowers.

"Ifrit!" Silence calls out.

Ifrit twists her head to look, and her face goes from confused to surprised to see Silence here. "Hey! What's wrong?" Ifrit asks.

Silence stops to dig around in her purse for a second. Then, she produces a plastic, orange bottle. "You forgot these at home again," she says. "Have you had lunch yet?"

"Oh, whoops! I swear I grabbed them, really," Ifrit says as if it's not a big deal at all. She starts approaching Silence, and that's when the Liberi notices the paper in her hand. "We haven't had lunch yet, we were just doing a scavenger hunt for Kafka."

Silence nearly drops Ifrit's medicine. "Kafka?"

"Yeah," Ifrit says, "She's been acting all nice today." She holds up her paper, which has a list of plants - pictures included. "She even showed me these cool thingies called… White Asphodels?" Ifrit scratches her head and waves towards the flowers she had been looking at. "They're pyrobytes or something, and they're really cool."

"Pyrophytes, with an 'F' sound," says a familiar voice. Kafka pokes her head out from behind a nearby bush. She comes out from behind it completely, and then approaches Ifrit. "They're naturally fire-resistant, and also associated with death and afterlife."

"Oh, that's cool!" Ifrit says, "I'm gonna test that out right now-"

"No you’re not," Silence says, completely ignoring Kafka. Her face, flushed red with embarrassment, clearly shows that it's a failed attempt. She presses the bottle of medication into Ifrit's hand. "Here, go take these with lunch. Ptilopsis packed you a lunch, right?"

Ifrit nods.

"Good, good. Do not burn any of Miss Lena's plants, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Ifrit sighs.

Silence pats her on the head, "Alright, then go have fun, I need to… go run back home for something."

Ifrit gives her a thumbs up and runs off to go back to what she was doing. Silence turns around and…

"Olivia," Kafka says.

"Kafka," Silence replies, "I was just leaving." She turns on her heel. A tug on her sleeve stops her in her tracks, her legs suddenly leaden.

"Wait, wait," Kafka says. "I wanna talk about last night."

"So you can scold me for my actions?" Silence responds. Despite her semi-hostile tone, though, she doesn't pull her sleeve away. The average person is an impossible puzzle for Silence, but Kafka is so predictable in how she plays hot and cold that it might as well be like solving a puzzle cube. She tries not to think about the fact that she literally gave Kafka a custom-made puzzle cube years ago.

"Yeah, now get over here." Kafka tugs on her sleeve once more. Silence turns around. Kafka looks annoyed, to say the very least, with her brow furrowed, lips pursed, and arms folded against her chest. "Didya read my text?"

Silence sheepishly shakes her head.

"Figures," Kafka sighs. "Did you even mean any of that, then?"

Silence falls silent for a bit. "I…" she starts. Kafka taps her foot while Silence stammers and reaches for an answer. It's true, she misses the time she spent with Kafka all those years ago. It would be wonderful to actually get back together with her. She's so eager to help no matter what, despite her demeanor. Silence couldn't begin to count how much she owes Kafka for her help with Ifrit alone. But she doesn't know if Kafka would even want that. For all Silence knows, Kafka is just being a good friend. It would wrack her with guilt to impose some flight of fancy on a dear friend like her. Finally, after seconds turn into minutes, Silence has her answer. "I don't know," she says.

Kafka just raises an eyebrow at her. "You don't know?"

Silence nods.

"Just what am I supposed to do with that answer, Olivia?" Kafka complains.

"I don't know either," Silence fixes her glasses, awkwardly. "But… I'd like to find out, I think."

Kafka stares at Silence for a second before laughing to herself. "Really? Is that what you're gonna go with?"

"What did you want to hear, Kafka?" Silence says.

"Dunno," Kafka admits - ironic given the flak Silence just received for a similar answer, "But this is better than you just saying you meant it, I guess."

"I see," Silence says. She looks out past Kafka, out the window of the greenhouse. Dark clouds still hang in the sky, just like yesterday, when they agreed to their pseudo-date.

"I have a proposal, Kafka," Silence starts.

"This oughta be good."

"One more night out. Not quite a date, same as last time, but still just the two of us." Silence says.

Kafka shakes her head. "No," she says plainly.

"Oh…" Silence deflates.

"Olivia, think about what I want for a change, and not just what you want, okay? Like, did you miss me, or just having someone?" Kafka huffs, echoing her words from last night.

The words strike an off-key chord in her stomach. Silence's crest feathers ruffle slightly. "Of course I care about what you want, Kafka," she says, "I'm just trying to make sure you're…"

Kafka cuts her off, "Make sure I'm what?" 

"Safe," Silence says. "I want to make sure you're safe." She doesn't mention wanting to make Kafka happy. She's certain the smaller Liberi picks up on it anyway. "I want you around. That's why I made sure you stayed after we caught your Infection."

Kafka shifts nervously from one foot to the next, "It's not that big a deal, really…"

"You feel better with your treatment though, don't you?"

Kafka doesn't answer that, which is enough of an answer for Silence. "Then why'd you have to do all that last night?" Kafka says instead, "You had to drag me out to a fake date and get drunk just to say you wanted to get back together?"

"Well, at the time, I wasn't sure…" Silence flounders.

"And you still aren't." Kafka sighs, and runs her hand through her hair. "I have a proposal of my own."

"And what's that?"

"You're going to spend the rest of the day here with me, in this garden."

"What?"

"You heard me. Those are my terms. That's what I want."

"That's ridiculous!"

"Do you want to go with your plan, or do you want to do what I literally just said I want?" Kafka's sly, teasing smile comes back in full.

Silence grumbles, "I can't, I have to be at work in a few hours," she says.

"Alright, give me a few," Kafka says. She produces a phone from her pocket, and walls off behind a wall of greenery as she taps away to make a call. "Yeah, hello? It's Kafka. Yeah, that Kafka. Listen, I got a huge favor to ask you…"

Silence just stands there, dumbfounded, wondering just what stunt Kafka would pull for this. It couldn't be simple, of course. Unless…

"Back!" Kafka comes back around a different planter, putting her phone away, "Saria said she'd cover your shift today."

"Saria?" Silence says, feathers ruffling with indignation yet again so soon after settling down, "Why would you call her for that?"

"Because I knew she'd do it," Kafka replies, "She didn't need much convincing when I said you were hungover as all hell."

"Kafka!" Silence's cheeks turn bright red.

"Hey, no harm done, right?" Kafka says, ignoring all the harm that was just done to Silence's reputation.

Silence fumes, "You-"

"You," Kafka interrupts, "Owe me for last night."

Silence comes to a complete halt. Her feathers remain in end, and her face stays flushed, but she makes no effort to scold Kafka now. Then, once she realizes Kafka has won this round of whatever game she's playing, all tension leaves her body. At least she would have Kafka. "Fine. But you'd better make today interesting, you hear me?"

"Got it, Olivia!" Kafka says, taking Silence by the sleeve again and pulling her further into the garden for their impromptu - but real - date.