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“It’s necessary,” Kouyou repeats to herself, carefully applying crimson red lipstick in front of the mirror. “It’s a mission,” she thinks again, holding a particular low-cut dress she just pulled out of a seemingly unpromising, bland package that has been delivered to her quarters. It’s been a while since she wore anything other than traditional clothing, but this one is too pretty not to wear it, not to mention the material is pleasurably smooth against her skin. It must’ve cost a fortune, actually, but the tag is nowhere to be seen.
It’s also red, not too dark. Bloody red, exactly the way she likes.
She’s glad Chuuya went out earlier. He would definitely be complaining about her outfit choice by now or try to put some unnecessary accessories on her. Kouyou has never been too fond of jewelry, as in most cases it was a liability on the battlefield, even though she has a personal collection of earrings she wears only when she’s by herself (or when Chuuya wants to try something on, he’s the only one allowed near her precious closet). They’re pretty, but unnecessary.
Golden Demon zips up the dress for her. It’s been a while since the ability did something like that, besides brushing her hair in the morning when she’s not in the mood to do so. The woman feels a bit awkward, staring at the floating ghost; even though it can’t speak and its face doesn’t express any emotions, it seems like it’s judging her right now.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she scolds the demon, crossing her arms over her chest that right now seems strangely exposed. Thankfully, the loose, silky sleeves reaching up to her elbows help with the feeling a bit. “It was an order from the boss that I have to obey.”
The ghost tilts its head at her, almost mockingly, but disappears without a word, obviously, and Kouyou sighs, finally sitting on her bed.
The heels she’s supposed to wear are laying somewhere in the corner of her apartment and she really wishes she could lay down right now; it's impossible, though, she spent two hours working on her hairstyle and the meticulous braids pinned on the back of her head would not appreciate that. She has to settle for sitting upright on the soft sheets.
Suddenly, a knock on the door interrupts her thoughts, but she's kind of glad to have a guest. At least the anxiety about the conduct and success of the mission will stop bothering her.
The man enters when she allows him to, being the gentleman he is, and the woman stands up to greet him.
At first she is surprised with the lack of any greeting from his side, only to notice that he froze in place, eyeing her from head to foot. It's funny, but it gives her more time to realize what he's wearing and to understand that the choice of the dress wasn't unintentional. Although he has one of his favorite black suits on, the tie he's wearing is exceptionally red. Bloody red.
Kouyou would never suspect that Mori Ougai knew so much about fashion he would intentionally match their outfits for some kind of a fancy party they had to attend to gather intel.
"You look…" he manages to stutter out. "Amazing."
She chuckles; most of the people would consider leaving the Port Mafia boss speechless as something impossible to achieve and yet he spent over thirty seconds on coming up with a word to compliment her appearance.
"You're not so bad yourself," she teases, waiting until Mori takes his shoes off and approaches her. "The tie is great. It's nice to see an alternative from your usual one."
"All of my ties are great" he protests, but Kouyou rolls her eyes and raises her hands to fix the uneven position of the accessory, just to put her palm on his chest gently right after. "I see the dress was a perfect choice. It compliments your eye color very well" he says with a smile.
"I must say I quite like it and just to inform you, I plan to keep it after the mission" she says, her hands now moving to his hair. It's tied at the base of his neck, but the fringe is once again, uneven. Thankfully, it doesn't take long to fix it with a nearby comb and when Kouyou finishes, her cherry red eyes meet violet colored ones; their faces very close to each other.
She doesn't move away. The eyes in front of her are somewhat hypnotizing and she can't think about anything other than how much she likes their color and shade.
"I brought something for you," he breaks the silence and pulls out a small box from his pocket. “I figured out it would be more believable if we wear this,” he says, with a hint of embarrassment, revealing two matching rings inside.
They’re not just some random rings. These are wedding rings. Most probably made out of real gold, adorned with small diamonds on the exterior.
It’s understandable. It’s necessary, they need to pose as a married couple. It’s in the best interest of the mission.
Kouyou just nods silently, still staring at the jewelry. It’s really beautiful, too; she doesn’t particularly like rings either, as it is more important for her to be able to hold her weapon properly.
However, right now, it seems proper. It’s not only what she needs to do, it’s what she wants, and the urge is inexplicable.
“May I?” Mori says quietly, while the woman raises her hand, making it easy for him to put the ring on her ring finger. Where it belongs; or where it would belong if they were really married.
Kouyou does the same for him, naturally, and for a moment they stare at their hands.
“They are beautiful,” she says, unable to resist a small smile. The matching jewelry is definitely to her liking, minimalistic, but elegant. “Where did you get those?”
The man smirks, taking her hand. He’s not wearing his gloves tonight and the skin of his palms is very soft. It’s nice, Kouyou thinks.
“I have my sources,” he proclaims, somewhat mysteriously. “You can keep this one after if you want as well.”
“I don’t think I can just go around with a wedding ring on while being single,” she jokes, but he just shrugs. It looks like he wants to say something, but ultimately resigns; it makes her curious, but when he looks at the wristwatch he also has on, it’s clear that they don’t have much time.
Mori doesn’t even have to say anything, she grasps his palm and leads him out of her apartment.
They end up at a fancy restaurant, being registered as a married couple under the code surname Okazaki. The waiter seems constrainedly polite as he stares at them with something close to contempt while leading them to their table, but the woman is too immersed in thought to even pay attention to that. It’s a good thing they are also having dinner here, it means she can finally occupy herself with something that doesn’t require much thinking.
“Do you like it?” Mori asks, raising a glass of wine that has just been poured by the indifferent waiter towards her. “You’re the expert here, aren’t you?” he smirks, while she just rolls her eyes taking a small sip of the alcohol. It’s sweet, much too sweet for her liking.
“Much worse than I would expect from such a luxurious place, really. If Chuuya was here, he would probably tell you much more about it” she comments, putting the glass back on the table and looking around the room they’re sitting in.
They are surrounded by married couples and it’s strange that it’s the first thing that comes to her mind when a crystal chandelier is literally hanging above her head, but the amount of cutlery placed on the table signals that they will spend a lot of time here.
On the other hand, when the man puts his hand on hers and intertwines their fingers, the thought doesn’t seem so bad.
“Something’s wrong?” he whispers, furrowing his brows slightly. “If you’re not feeling well, we can go out.”
Kouyou shakes her head in protest. They’re here for a mission. Her well-being is not what’s important right now.
“I’m fine,” she says quickly, straightening her back. They’re acting suspiciously, and if someone were to notice, they would definitely suspect something. Despite the fact, it doesn’t seem important to Mori, who looks back at her in concern.
It’s unusual of him to put someone’s comfort over the course of a mission. He never does that, actually, and that makes her feel a bit special.
They have to pretend they’re a married couple, so they do. Talking about trivial details of their married life seems so easy, so simple. Joking about their cat (they obviously don’t have any, but one of Chuuya’s adventures seems suitable enough to use), their obnoxious neighbors that they constantly argue with (they also don’t have any) and all the things that are made up only for the purpose of the mission is almost comforting.
Kouyou, of course, can’t be fooled by some fictional stories she hasn’t ever experienced. Mori won’t be either, he’s the one that has come up with most of it. It’s all made up, even if in these stories, love seems so easy. So natural.
It’s also easy when the man takes her hand and kisses the inside of her palm. She constantly has to repeat to herself that it’s for the purpose of the mission, but it seems so believable right now. Most of the people in the restaurant have left. They don’t have to pretend anymore, but the violet eyes are looking at her with unspoken tenderness and she catches some stolen glances at her lips.
She squeezes his palm. It’s time to pay and leave, but she doesn’t let go of it. The wedding rings are shining in the light of the crystal chandelier and she decides she will keep hers. As a symbol of love that is so, so easy.
It’s cold outside. Mori puts his jacket on her shoulders, shielding her from the temperature and embracing her waist while they wait for their chauffeur’s arrival.
“I think these people are staring at us” she starts, pointing to some dim silhouettes in the dark, hoping he would understand what she means. “Don’t we seem suspicious?”
The man smirks at her, lowering himself so she can look directly into his eyes.
“I think we do,” he whispers. Their foreheads are almost touching. “We should keep pretending.”
The word pretending is harsh, but the sensation of being kissed under the moonlight is definitely soothing. Kouyou raises her palm to caress his chin, her other hand placed on his chest, his arm still around her waist for support.
The kiss is long, and objectively unnecessary. It’s not like anyone can see them in the faint light of street lanterns, but when they pull away from each other, breathing heavily, Kouyou finally knows why it was so easy.