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Toujou had accepted Shirogane’s invitation to head to her lab after lunch with little hesitation. It is her duty, after all, to accept any and every request—save for the ones she outright refuses, but she knows Shirogane would never ask that of her—but more than that, it’s because it was Shirogane specifically that she accepted, smoothing out her skirt and doing a small curtsy. Shirogane had giggled and skipped away, and as Toujou brushed her hair out of her face, Ouma leaned in close to her and said, “Ohhhh, she’s gonna dress you up like a total barbie doll, Mom!”
At the time, Toujou had ignored him, because listening to what Ouma says tends to be more headache inducing than it is productive, but now that she’s standing outside of Shirogane’s lab, she’s beginning to consider that Ouma may very well have had a point with the whole barbie doll thing. Or, perhaps, not quite like that; the outfits Shirogane dons for her cosplays (of which there are many) don’t quite resemble the clothes you’d see on a child’s toy. Some of them do, like the frillier skirts and the long, extravagant dresses, but the suits of armour and the torn, intentionally stained shirts and trousers… Toujou can’t really picture those in the hands of little girls.
Still, the prospect of being dressed up to Shirogane, while intimidating for reasons entirely unrelated to her capacity to fulfill the request, isn’t such a bad one. Toujou adjusts the cuff of one of her gloves and raps twice on the door before stepping inside, as she’s done the past few times she’s been by Shirogane’s lab to deliver refreshments, or else check on her after hours spent holed up and hunched over a piece of fabric.
Now, however, Shirogane isn’t folded over a sewing machine at all, but rather standing by the bar. She lifts her head as the door closes and beams, lifting a hand to wave excitedly.
“You’re here!” she chirps. “Right on time as always, Toujou-san! Though I suppose that should be expected of you, shouldn’t it?” Shirogane lets out one of her high-pitched, energetic giggles, and a warm endearment fills Toujou’s chest.
She dips into a bow. “Anything less would be unbefitting of a maid of my caliber,” she responds. Toujou straightens herself up and crosses the room to stand on the opposite side of the bar from Shirogane, watching her mix a bright blue cup of liquid with a stir stick, ice cubes clinking against the edges of the glass. “Do you require assistance?”
“Oh, no! I’ve got it.” Shirogane shoots Toujou a brief smile before returning to her task. There are neatly cut lemon slices resting beside the glass. “I used to work as a bartender, remember? Doing things like this is honestly nostalgic! Besides, this is for you.” She removes the stir stick and lifts the glass, leaving little fingerprint shaped marks in the condensation when she places it on the bar in front of Toujou. “It’s called Butterfly Pea tea. It’s good! Mild but sweet, like chamomile, which I know is your favourite.” She smiles. “Have you heard of it before?”
Toujou swallows back the instinctive urge to tell Shirogane she didn’t have to go to the trouble—she already has; saying as much would be redundant—and instead eyes the vibrant blue liquid before her. She shakes her head.
“Well, it’s tasty, but that’s not the main appeal. Watch!” Shirogane picks up a lemon slice and adds, “My hands are clean, by the way, don’t worry,” before squeezing the lemon into the tea. As Toujou watches, the bright blue turns into a warmer colour, more of a magenta, as the clear lemon juice seeps through the glass. It’s a slow reaction, and not especially something to write home about, but almost hypnotic regardless. Toujou hadn’t been aware of this kind of tea. She swallows.
“Incredible,” she murmurs. Shirogane seems to preen under the praise and nudges the glass an inch closer.
“I brewed it for you! You can enjoy while I go get your cosplay ready, alright? I’ll be right back!”
With that, Shirogane bustles around the counter and disappears behind a rack of costumes. Toujou watches the rustling of fabrics for a moment before averting her gaze. It hadn’t been phrased as a request, necessarily, but Toujou takes it as such regardless and leans against the counter as she brings the glass to her lips. As Shirogane had promised, the tea is sweet with a slight sour taste from the lemon. Pleasant and cool against her tongue. Toujou closes her eyes, enjoying the taste, and only opens them when she hears Shirogane’s returning footsteps and spots the other girl returning with black fabric draped over her arms.
Toujou puts the glass down just in time to receive that clothes that Shirogane drops into her hands.
“You can go behind there to change,” she instructs, pointing off to a part of the lab that is sectioned off with curtains. “But if you need help with the laces over your bust, let me know! We’ll do your hair when you come back out, okay?”
The clothing now in Toujou’s arms is light and comfortable feeling. She separates pants from a suit jacket with only one arm and an elaborate lace pattern over the bust (as promised) and an eyepatch from the pile that appears to be designed to go over her right eye. After sizing everything up, she nods, offering Shirogane a quick, professional smile before she slips away to get changed.
Toujou does not ask for help with the laces. They’re relatively straightforward the way that Shirogane designed the outfit, and anyway, a good maid ought not request help over something so simple. Toujou brushes her hair to the side as she ties on the eyepatch. There are no mirrors in this changing room, so she can’t see very well how she looks, but she straightens out creases in the suit jacket regardless before she steps back out of the changing room, her dress, boots, and gloves all draped over her arm. Shirogane is standing by a table that still has measuring tape and a number of other sewing implements out, so when Toujou arrives by her side, she doesn’t put down her clothes until Shirogane has cleared a space.
After staring at Toujou for a moment, Shirogane’s eyes go wide. “Oh! Right. Shoes.” She turns around and picks up a pair of black loafers from the chair by the table. Toujou steps into them and pulls the pants out from the back. When she straightens up again, Shirogane is holding a large, metal green piece of what appears to be armour in the shape of her arm. Shirogane gestures for Toujou to lift her right arm, so she does, and Shirogane carefully slides on the piece of equipment.
It’s stiff and unyielding and a bit heavy, but Toujou merely rolls her shoulder and gets accustomed to the weight. The green is a striking colour under the bright yellow lights of Shirogane’s lab. When Toujou has finished staring down at the piece of costuming, she looks back up at Shirogane for approval with her one available eye.
Shirogane is absolutely beaming as she looks Toujou from head to toe. Toujou’s heart stutters. Shirogane smiles at her plenty, but the grin on her face right now is more akin to the smile she wears whenever she talks about her fixations; for her to wear that expression when she looks at Toujou… it’s almost an overwhelming feeling that she can barely breathe past. Toujou swallows and glances away, pretending not to notice the heat in her ears, adjusting the neck of her costume in the hopes of covering her neck as it flushes. Those big, sparkling eyes… they aren’t for Toujou, they’re for the character she’s dressed as. That excitement isn’t directed towards her, but towards the costume. It’s a feeling that Toujou can’t begrudge Shirogane. She just shouldn’t let her heart flutter when she knows why the other girl is making that face.
“You look so lovely!” Shirogane coos. She reaches up and adjusts the eyepatch before starting to work on her hair, mussing the strands. Her touch is quite deliberate, and Toujou remains deathly still so as not to disturb her task. Her fingertips are warm, and every so often they slip through Toujou’s hair and brush against her skin, sending bolts of electricity shooting through her neck, her heart rocketing against her ribcage. Shirogane is shorter than Toujou, so she has to reach up to do this, standing barely two inches away from her, teal eyes focused and intense through the round rims of her glasses.
After a moment, Toujou realises that Shirogane is still talking.
“I knew Najenda was a good idea! You’re both so tall and stoic and sexy, and not to mention badass!” Shirogane giggles, and Toujou finds a wry smile to wear in place of the flustered one. She decides not to take the sexy comment to heart; Shirogane would probably say that about just about any anime character she’s endeared to. The fact that she’s aiming it towards Toujou right now is, well… it doesn’t mean anything, is all Toujou is saying. She’s just here as a maid, after all, doing Shirogane a favour. That’s all it is. Toujou can’t turn it into anything more.
Shirogane finishes with Toujou’s hair and takes a step back, her smile widening. She holds up two thumbs up in a gesture so shockingly reminiscent of Momota that Toujou can’t help a laugh, reaching up with her uncovered hand to muffle the sound. As though sensing the reason for Toujou’s amusement, Shirogane puffs out her cheeks, but relaxes a moment later, shaking her head.
“Seriously, you look just plain incredible! You really embody Najenda’s aura of leadership! You’re bringing the character to life so well!” Shirogane brings her hands to her cheeks and squeals into her palms, and Toujou finds another laugh, even as that wry amusement in her chest begins to sour somewhat.
“You have my thanks, Shirogane-san,” she says regardless, “and my thanks for requesting my services.” She curtsies, but finds she has no skirt to lift, and thus mimes the options with her fingers pinched at her sides instead. The gesture makes Shirogane giggle this time, and Toujou finds another smile.
It’s just that… Shirogane said that Toujou brings the character to life, that she embodies Naejnda’s aura; she never said that she specifically enjoys how Toujou looks. And it isn’t as though Toujou had come to this expecting such a thing. She’s heard Shirogane’s rants before about selfish cosplayers who care only about their own fame and perception, who don’t put any effort into making real, honest recreations. Obviously, should she be satisfied with Toujou’s appearance, it would be… because Toujou looks as close to the character as possible.
Toujou shouldn’t be hurt by it. She shouldn’t be feeling enough towards Shirogane to be hurt in the first place, and yet…
“Shirogane-san,” Toujou prompts, halting her train of thought, “would you tell me more about this character, and the show she comes from? It is a show, correct?”
Excitement sparks in Shirogane’s eyes, and she nods again. “Yes! And absolutely!” She closes the space between them and takes Toujou’s uncovered wrist, starting to lead the way over to the bar. “Akame Ga Kill doesn’t seem quite your thing, since it isn’t so deep—it’s plainly just an excuse to watch a bunch of people fighting—but I’d be delighted to tell you about it anyway!” Shirogane is practically vibrating with energy as she sits Toujou down on a barstool and then takes a seat herself. “And, if you have some spare time sometime soon… maybe you would like to watch it with me?”
“Yes,” Toujou says, too quickly. Shirogane blinks, and Toujou clears her throat. “I-I mean… I would be honoured to accompany you, Shirogane-san, if that is your request.”
A wry smile curves Shirogane’s lips. She leans an elbow against the bar and rests her jaw in the palm of her hand. “You really are dedicated, aren’t you? It’s super admirable, Toujou-san, really.”
Were it anyone else, Akamatsu perhaps, or even Ouma, Shirogane might follow that up with something else—some kind of insistence that Toujou try and live for herself, a lighthearted chastisement.
Instead, she continues, “I really do enjoy your company. It’s just plain to see that everyone else thinks I’m a little strange.” She laughs, as though completely unbothered by this. “You’re a good listener. I’m grateful to have you helping everybody as a maid, you know?”
Toujou’s one uncovered hand curls in the fabric of her suit. As a maid. Right. That’s why Toujou is here, why Shirogane put her in this outfit—she’s just… someone who’s available. Somebody who can help. That’s all this is, all it will ever be—all it should be, if Toujou is speaking frankly. Her duty is to serve, after all. She shouldn’t come to these interactions expecting something more. Expecting Shirogane to return her feelings.
In one careful motion, Toujou unwinds her fingers and picks up her abandoned glass of Butterfly Pea tea and takes a polite sip, then lowers the glass to the bar. When she does, she’s smiling again, looking back into Shirogane’s breathtaking teal eyes.
“I am grateful to you, for allowing me to help,” Toujou responds, ducking her head. “I hope to continue serving you, Shirogane-san. And I hope that you will focus less on me, and more on the show that you wanted to tell me about.”
Something flashes in Shirogane’s eyes, a flicker of totally undecipherable emotion. When Toujou meets them, it’s vanished, as though it was never there to begin with.
“Right, then!” Shirogane beams. “I’ll do that right away.”
And without another word about Toujou, about gratitude, Shirogane launches into a spiel—a spiel that Toujou knows she’s only receiving because she’s here, because she’ll listen, because it’s convenient. And yet, seated across from Shirogane and wearing the costume the other girl put her in, Toujou can’t help but hang on the end of each word, drinking in the excited edge to Shirogane’s voice and pretending, somewhere safe within the confines of her heart, that Shirogane is that excited because she’s speaking to Toujou— and not about anything else.