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If there was one thing Twilight, alias "Loid Forger", learned from his training, it was to not get attached to assets.
"Asset". To this day, it was an interesting word to the seasoned spy. The word was derived from an Anglo-Norman French term, which, in turn, was derived from the Old French word asez, which meant "enough". Which, in turn, was based from the Latin words ad ("to") and satis ("enough"). And it was an appropriate basis for the word he was long familiar with.
After all, assets can only do enough to help spies get the job done. There was nothing supplemental about their function. There was nothing more about them, but nothing less either. They were just tools to a spy, just like a gun or a radio or a coded newspaper.
A gun was for killing enemies.
A radio was for communicating with allies.
A coded newspaper was for passing along covert messages.
Never get attached to assets at all.
If anything else, that was the mantra that Twilight had always lived by. Assets were tools that can only do enough to help spies get the job done. Nothing more, nothing less.
"Chichi!"
Loid Forger turned and saw the smiling little girl, no older than six (though he'd always suspected she was younger than that), gliding towards him, her entire being shining brighter than the summer Sun. It always amused him how she would run towards him, so quickly that she'd almost trip over herself. He'd never dealt with an asset who was as frustrating and as compromising as her.
And then, he blinked, and the little girl was no longer standing there. Instead, there stood a beautiful young woman, no older than twenty-one (though he still suspected she was younger than that), her entire being illuminated by the flowing white dress that she wore. It suddenly felt strange to Loid, no longer seeing the girl there. In the years that he'd known her, he'd still never dealt with an asset who was as frustrating and as compromising as her, even in her adult years.
And yet, as the woman happily, gracefully spun around to show off her white dress, he couldn't help but feel frustrated at something else. At the utter absence of something else...
"Does Anya look good in this?" she asked.
"Only the greatest," Loid replied with a small crack of a smile.
"Hee hee hee~" With a look of giddy enthusiasm, Anya ran up to the large mirror at the other end of the dressing room and admired her own reflection. "Wooooow! Anya looks like a real princess! Waku waku!"
"You sure do."
As he stared at the young woman, Loid felt the familiar surge of unease and discomfort boiling inside him again. At first, it was a mild, simmering sensation, something that was child's play for the spy in terms of overcoming it. But as the days went by and turned into weeks and then into months, the feeling grew stronger and stronger, evolving into a total beast that Loid couldn't hope to control anymore. For once, Westalis' best spy was outgunned, outwitted, and outmatched.
"Chichi?"
"Hm?" Loid's cold blue eyes met Anya's bursting green pupils. "Yes, Anya?"
"You look sad. Anya doesn't like it when Chichi's sad."
He blinked in surprise and quietly but sharply cleared his throat. "Ahem. I don't know what gave you that impression, but I'm not sad, Anya. Rather, I'm very proud of you."
Anya's eyes might've as well been glowing from happiness. "Really?"
"Yes, truly."
Of course, he would not admit it, but the words that came out of Loid's mouth were nothing but the truth. Indeed, today was a day of immense pride for Loid, and an extremely momentous occasion for Westalian–Ostanian relations.
After years and years and years of calculated patience and methodical prodding (primarily on the part of the hardworking Twilight), Anya was finally able to do her job as an asset to him. She befriended Damian Desmond, the second-born son of the National Unity Party leader Donovan Desmond, and it subsequently gave Twilight a highly coveted opening into the far-right warmonger's personal life. And it was the opening that he needed to infiltrate and dismantle the National Unity Party from within, rescue both Westalis and Ostania from the brink of all-out war, and usher in a long-anticipated golden age of peace and prosperity between both countries.
To think that a child would be instrumental in preventing a humanitarian crisis of monumental proportions. To this day, it still boggled a part of Loid's mind, knowing this inescapable fact. But another part shone and swelled with pride from this knowledge.
And yet, unfortunately, that development did not mark the end of Operation "Strix". Not by a long shot.
Even though the National Unity Party had been dismantled, several splinter groups formed and warred with one another to vie for supremacy, claiming to be the one true heir to the fascist political party's legacy. Naturally, that did not sit well with Twilight's superiors in Ostania. They revamped the objective of Operation "Strix" to include the covert surveillance of these splinter groups and, if necessary, the initiation of efforts to dismantle said groups before any of them could disrupt Westalian–Ostanian relations.
As a result, Twilight had to keep on maintaining his cover as Loid Forger, well-respected psychiatrist and beloved husband and father.
A father to this troublesome yet charming young woman in front of him. The woman who somehow seemed incompatible for the job in every way possible, yet managed to exceed expectations each and every time.
"Thank you, Chichi," Anya said with a radiant smile. "Anya's very proud of herself too!"
Loid gave her a soft, fleeting chuckle. "She's all grown up, but she still acts like a child. If she keeps it up, she'll wind up jeopardizing the mission."
The spy almost expected Anya to give him an adverse reaction out of nowhere. For someone as academically subpar as her, she sometimes gave off the impression that she was a lot sharper and more observant than one would expect. But, to his surprise, the woman giggled, almost knowingly, and looked at herself in the mirror again.
At that moment, the door swung open, and a mat of sleek black hair with an equally white dress ran inside the dressing room.
"Oh my gosh, Anyaaaaa~! You look sooooo cuuuuute! I'm so frigging jealous of you!"
Becky Blackwell nearly tackled Anya to the floor from her hug. Loid could only crack the tiniest of grins as the two young women started squealing and chatting animatedly with one another about various topics that flew over his head at a mile per minute.
As the daughter of a major manufacturing company for the Ostanian Armed Forces, Becky's friendship with Anya turned out to be another major asset for Operation "Strix". After all, up-to-date knowledge about the country's armament was a very helpful resource for Westalis to stay ahead of their enemy. And so, for the sake of his objective, Loid encouraged the fostering and growth of this friendship, even long after the National Unity Party's defeat. It amused him to think that his first impression of their friendship would be the polar opposite of what he wound up justifying from it.
"No, Beck!" Anya replied while scanning her friend from head to toe. "You look cute!"
"But this is your special day! You should be the one who's cute!" Then, Becky turned her head and noticed Loid standing a few feet away. "O-Oh! M-M-Mr. F-Fo-Forger!"
Loid suppressed a chuckle of amusement at the sight of Becky's reddening cheeks. For as long as he had known her, she was always obsessed with the idea of being mature, even if her preconceptions of maturity were childishly flawed back in her youth. Now that she had grown into a mature young woman, Becky learned a lot about life, a lot that didn't originate from the sappy movies and TV shows that she watched. But even as the years went by and her worldview changed, there was one thing from Becky's childhood that she couldn't let go of.
And that was her crush on Loid.
"Becky," the spy said. "Thank you so much for being here on Anya's special day."
"N-No problem, M-Mr. F-Forger!" stammered Becky. She bowed her head at him, her dark hair falling from her shoulders and draping down from her head. "I-It's so good t-to see you..."
"Chichi's right, Beck!" Anya exclaimed, bobbing her head with enthusiastic agreement. "And thank you so much for being made of honor! You're a really good friend! You're the best best friend in the whooole wide world!"
"It's supposed to be 'maid of honor', Anya," Loid deadpanned.
"But that's what Anya said, Chichi! Becky's made of honor! Isn't that right?"
In that moment, Loid desperately wanted to slam his head into the door. But then, that feeling was overwhelmed by one of nostalgic amusement, which prompted the corners of his lips to tug themselves upward into another small smile. And then, the nostalgic amusement gave way to the same feeling of unease and discomfort. He felt just like one of his bombs that Anya was so obsessed with, having the pin removed and the explosive primed to detonate.
Just one miscalculated tilt of the bomb and ka-boom he'd go. But as to what kind of ka-boom it would be, he didn't know what to expect.
And then, the door opened again, revealing someone who always evoked the opposite kind of feeling within Loid.
"Ohhhhh, Anyaaaaa~! My little girl is so beautiful~"
Yor Forger glided inside the dressing room in a slight waddle and took Anya's shoulders so she could admire her daughter up close. The older woman was wearing a formal dress of her own for the occasion, but it was red in color and therefore a lot more suitable for her. It stubbornly clung onto her figure, just enough to draw eyes but not enough to be considered overly excessive. Even so, that fact was exactly why Loid had problems with Yor wearing such formal attire, since HE was the only one allowed to have his eyes drawn to her in such a manner.
From the moment he first met her, Loid knew that Yor would be the perfect asset to enforce the image of his fake family for the sake of Operation "Strix". She inadvertently sneaked up on him in that boutique, him, a man who prided himself in always having his guard up and analyzing his surroundings in the corners of his eyes as part of the job. A woman like that was more than suited to be the perfect fake wife for him.
So what if his heart found a new rhythm of fast-paced beating whenever he was in her presence, as the days proceeded?
So what if he began to sleep in the same bed as her, as the weeks went by?
So what if he started to kiss her in the lips in earnest, as the months passed?
So what if he replaced her grenade pin of a wedding ring for an actual engagement ring of gold, as the years moved on?
So what if Yor was now expecting a baby, his baby, as soon as Anya graduated from Eden Academy?
It was all for the sake of maintaining the perfect image of this perfect fake family, for the sake of Operation "Strix". And Loid couldn't have it any other way.
"Aya!"
And speaking of maintaining the perfect image of the perfect fake family, a new bundle of joy waddled into the dressing room, trailing Yor alongside an old Great Pyrenees. He was a young, adorable boy who resembled his maternal uncle in a sense but had also inherited his father's icy-blue eyes, although they shone brightly with the same uncontainable energy as his sister's.
"You look so pwetty, Aya!" the boy squeaked. "Like a-a pwincess!"
"Ruff," the Great Pyrenees grumbled, his vocal cords too aged to manage out a powerful bark nowadays.
Anya squirmed with delight. "Thank you so much, Luca and Bond!" She then spun around, allowing the hem of her dress to flow sleekly and smoothly, like a veil. "Anya does look like a princess, huh?"
"So cute, so cute!" chanted a doting Yor.
"Can I be your knight, Aya?!" Luca asked enthusiastically. "Huh? Can I, can I, can I?!" He started slashing an invisible but powerful sword in the air. "I'll pwotect you fwom the babawians and the wascals! With the help of mah s-st-steed, Bond!"
The Great Pyrenees lowered his head with what sounded like a low whine of apprehension.
"Of course you can be Anya's knight, Luca!" Anya replied. "Today is a very special day for the princess, after all! Can't let the bad guys ruin it, can we?"
"If, by 'bad guys', you mean Jerk-Face One and Jerk-Face Two," Becky commented, "then yeah, we can't have that at all. Not at all."
"Anya," Yor piped up, "you make me so, so proud. You're no longer the sweet little girl that I met aaaall those years ago. Now you're a beautiful young woman on her wedding day. Ohhhhh, everything's so perfect! So perfect, indeed!" Then, all of a sudden, an extremely unsettling look shadowed her eyes. "And if any bad guys ruin it, they'll regret it for sure..."
"Uhhhhh...th-th-thank you, Haha..." Anya then beamed at her mother. "A-And Anya thinks you look beautiful too! When'll my new little sister be coming along?" She looked down at the slight bulge protruding from her mother's belly and gently poked at it like a curious child. "Anya is still waiting for her!"
"Oh, I think she'll come out in another month or two," Yor said. She started to gently stroke her enlarged stomach with a tender, motherly smile that still seemed new and foreign while etched upon her face, all the same. "But, if she's anything like his parents, she'll come out at the perfect time. She'll be a fighter, Anya, I can just feel it."
"Well, when he comes out, Anya will teach him how to smile in the face of danger! Just like how Haha taught me!" With that, Anya's face contorted into a smug smirk with an unsettling yet irresistible aura to it. "See? Anya can still do it!"
"If you'd call that smiling in the face of danger..." deadpanned Loid.
But Yor clapped her hands together in delight. "Why yes, just like that!"
He glared at her. "And of course you'd be alright with that kinda look..."
At that moment, Becky checked her pocket-watch and gasped. "Oh!" She quickly stuffed it back into...wherever she took the pocket-watch out of in her dress. "Everyone, the wedding's about to start! Remember our rehearsal! Chop chop!"
She childishly started pushing Yor out of the dressing room, all the while relaying her last best wishes to Anya at a rapid pace. In response, Luca mounted Bond's back like he was a horse; though he tolerated the boy's light weight, the Great Pyrenees grumbled while he walked out of the room, his departure marked by the boy's fading shouts and commands. As for Loid, he prepared to follow the two females out when he heard Anya's voice call out to him.
"Chichi...?"
He turned around, and for a brief moment that lasted a millisecond, he saw the little girl again. The feeling of unease and discomfort unceremoniously returned, surging right back into his body again, and the spy couldn't help but wonder if this was the result of something more sinister at play here.
"What's happening here?" he thought. "Why is my body exhibiting such adverse reactions? There's no good reason as to why I would be feeling this way, unless..." His skin suddenly paled in horror. "I'm being poisoned."
A spiking feeling of dread nearly pierced Loid's chest, and he suppressed the urge to clutch his chest in shock.
"Yes, it makes sense now. Yes, certainly there's a poison out there in the world that's responsible for all of the symptoms that I'm dealing with. A poison that's so slow-acting that it takes years and years to kill its target. Certainly someone out there wants me to die a slow, painful death."
"Are you sure you're not sad?" asked the young woman now in front of him again. "Because...if Chichi is sad..." To Loid's despair, Anya's lips started to quiver. "Then Anya will cry too...and on her special day..."
"I'm not sad, Anya," he said.
Even as he said that, the spy could feel his eyes water all of a sudden. He mustered all of the willpower he had to look in another direction and wipe his eyes with his elbow.
"No, it can't be a poison," he thought. "I've never heard of a poison that induces copious amounts of tears. No, this...this is akin to nerve gas. Yes, that's right! The church is being subjected to a chemical attack! This isn't good! Not good at-!"
All of a sudden, Loid felt something gently patting his head of graying blond hair. Bringing himself back to focus, he saw Anya standing closer to him, her look of dismay now gone and replaced with a softer, more emphatic smile. The feelings of unease and discomfort were washed away and replaced with a stronger, overwhelming emotion of nostalgia. He could clearly visualize a younger Anya petting all sorts of people and animals in distress, just like she always used to do.
"It's okay, Chichi," she said. "No matter what happens, Anya will always love you. So, just let it out."
Whatever the poison in Loid's system was, it finally made him lose control of his bearings.
"Anya..." he blurted out in a choked, broken voice. "You're... Y-You're..."
"All grown up now, I know..." the woman interrupted. She took a slow, deep breath and swept her gaze across the whole dressing room. "I still can't believe I'm getting married to Sy-on Boy too. To think we started off hating each other's guts, as Becky would call it." Then, her smile returned, and she held out her arms in a triumphant, dramatic gesture. "But hey! Look on the bright side, Chichi! At least we achieved world peace, at long last!"
Loid cracked a smile at Anya's diction. In the wake of the National Unity Party's disbandment and the rise of the far-right splinter groups and cabals, Damian Desmond became the center of the power struggle between the emerging Westalian–Ostanian union and the wannabe warmongers who wished to return the two countries to graver, bleaker times. As such, the success of Operation "Strix" increasingly hinged on the Forger family's closeness with the Desmonds and Damian in particular.
With the Desmonds struggling to maintain their political power and relevancy in Ostanian society, Westalis saw it prudent to groom Damian, from behind the scenes, into becoming a force of good that would render the Ostanian far-right faction irrelevant forever. And so, Loid worked to get Anya further and further into Damian's good graces, until he bore the fruits of his hard labor. A little too well for his liking, that is. After all, when one puts a young boy and a young girl together and forces them to deal with one another for what amounted to the entirety their youth, both children were bound to develop one of two strong feelings for one another: hatred and love.
And in the case of Anya and Damian, it was the latter, even if it looked like the former at first.
"This marriage..." Loid thought. "It wasn't exactly the plan that I had in mind when I wanted the two of them to become friends. I should be happy that I got more out of this operation than I was expecting. A marriage would give Westalis an even greater opening into the Ostanian political theater. And it most certainly will. But...now...that means...I would have to...to..."
Once again, Anya smiled gently and lovingly at him. She was doing it again, the kind of reaction that made the spy think she was reading his mind or something. Which she certainly was not capable of doing, since he was well-trained to fortify his mind and his feelings from anyone trying to read his emotions. But then again, his mind couldn't resist recalling all of the missions he had been on with Anya.
Such as the many times he helped her study for her classes at Eden Academy, until she was finally able to earn all of her Stella Stars and become an Imperial Scholar.
And the time when she actually became an Imperial Scholar, whereupon she immediately tried out her new uniform and showed it off with pride and joy.
And the time he and Yor desperately searched for her in their usual boutique when all she did was hide in a clothing rack while playing a game of hide-and-seek until she fell asleep.
And the time he and Franky kept following her around whenever she went on a date with Damian, to the point where the two of them utilized increasingly elaborate disguises and backstories.
And the time when he first met her, in that rundown, sketchy orphanage, all those years ago. He could still recall how he found her, kneeling on the floor, playing with her chimera doll, and looking up at him with her big, round, emerald eyes of awe and adoration...
"It's alright, Chichi," the pink-haired woman said in a cheerful, upbeat tone. "No matter what, Anya will always love you. And Anya will always be Chichi's little peanut, hee hee hee~"
If there was one thing that Loid Forger, also known as "Twilight", learned from his training, it was to not get attached to assets.
After all, assets can only do enough to help spies get the job done. There was nothing supplemental about their function. There was nothing more about them, but nothing less either. They were just tools to a spy, just like a gun or a radio or a coded newspaper.
A gun was for killing enemies, so a great spy would never play with a gun like it was an energetic child.
A radio was for communicating with allies, so a great spy would never talk to a radio like it was asking for peanuts.
A coded newspaper was for passing along covert messages, so a great spy would never look at a coded newspaper like it was crying and would never tell him what was wrong.
Never get attached to assets at all.
If anything else, that was the mantra that Loid vowed he'd always live by. Assets were just tools that can only do enough to help spies get the job done. Nothing more, nothing less.
But for once in his life, the mantra meant nothing to Loid. He tried to hold onto it, but his grip was relaxed and a little too halfhearted for anyone's liking. And in a split-second of weakness, he let go and finally succumbed to his emotions.
"A-ANYA!"
He sprang forward and hugged her as tightly as he possibly could. Though he couldn't see her, he knew Anya was smiling as she returned the hug in kind and consolingly patted his shoulder.
"There, there, Chichi," she said, even as her voice sounded a little broken herself. "It's okay. You can cry now."
Loid never really considered himself a mind-reader, or at the very least superhumanly observant like Anya was. But even so, a part of him could tell what she was thinking in that exact moment.
"This is the first time I've ever seen Chichi cry."
Because it was true. He hadn't cried before, not since the day he lost his mother...
Finally, after a few moments of this, Loid's weeping died down, and he quickly accepted the inevitable. He slowly, glumly, reluctantly pried himself away from his daughter and looked into her emerald-green eyes. As soon as he did, an impulse suddenly took over him, and he cleared his throat while a familiar sternness returned to his eyes.
"B-By the way," he said shakily, taking a millisecond to wipe his eyes with his arm, "I wasn't crying, just so you know."
Anya blinked in surprise. "You weren't."
"Yes. I was..." He blushed and averted his gaze. "Just sweating from my eyes."
...
...
...
...
...
"Oooookaaaaayyyyy..." Anya took a moment to turn around. "Well, let's get going, Chichi! Everyone's waiting for Anya's special day!"
"Yeah, sure..." But Loid hesitated, and he could feel a tightening sensation around his neck. "Actually, I'll be right behind you. This bow-tie feels a little tight..."
"Hm?" She looked at him in curiosity. "Here, let me help you."
Anya walked up to him and began attending to his bow-tie. Just then, after a few seconds of fiddling, she stopped just as abruptly as Loid had stopped and withdrew her hands almost immediately.
"Huh... Your bow-tie's fine, Chichi..." she said.
"Oh, is it?" At that moment, Loid realized the vice-like grip around his neck was gone. "Ah, I guess it is. Well..."
He took a sharp, deep breath and gave her a smile that was so forced it was clear to even himself.
"Let's get going, then...my little peanut."
And so, the father and daughter ventured out of the dressing room, ready to continue with their newest, most important mission yet. As they walked down the hallway, Anya shot Loid a surreptitious side-glance. The woman almost looked like she was gliding in her magnificent, breathtaking wedding gown, carefully handpicked by Yor herself.
"Chichi's still a bad liar," she thought with a tiny smile. "But he'll always be my bad liar!"