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The delegate representing the Federative Republic of Brazil looks Alya straight in the eyes and says, “Our delegation supports the embargo decision. While the empathy of the Cuban delegation for the Venezuelan people is praiseworthy, we cannot overlook the abuse of power that the current regime is perpetuating. We need to stifle it.”
Alya grits her teeth. She’s been vomiting nonsense about Maduro’s great and sparkly rule for the past forty-five minutes now, and to what end? If only the Russian and Chinese delegates weren’t a bunch of newcomer shmucks; credit to the organisers for giving them the opportunity, but she could really use some support now. At least it isn’t as bad as the ECOSOC MUN in Rotterdam last year. God, what a mess, that French delegation, she’d wanted to die from embarrassment by association.
The other half of the Brazilian delegation is throwing looks at the US as well, though, and Alya can tell that Felix isn’t too happy with the people representing one third of his passports. They’ve managed to say even less of a thing of substance than previous US delegations Alya’s seen, who think that ‘American bravado’ is all they need for their roleplay quota.
Surprisingly, the British and the French delegation are, for once, active in the Security Council. It’s too bad that the topic at hand is the Venezuelan crisis, which the real-life states don’t have that many stakes in, so they’ve just been chipping in when they can. Alya makes a mental note to get their contacts after; she thinks she might’ve seen one or two of them at a previous event, but she isn’t sure.
“I think we should just give up at this point,” Chloe says, not looking up from her phone. To anyone else, she must’ve seemed uninterested in the debate, something that she often uses to her advantage. In reality, Alya can see the UN logo at the top left of the browser – she’s checking something. Chloe has a more expensive laptop than Alya could ever afford, but she refuses to bring it to debates, opting instead for pen, paper, and an equally-as-expensive smartphone. Alya needles her about it, but given how often they’ve gained the upper hand from people underestimating Chloe’s role as the fact-checking one, she doesn’t resent her for it.
When they’d first started, they’d fought constantly over what to say and who should speak; now, Alya did the talking while Chloe did the fact-checking and debate-tracking, prodding her when needed. Alya, for all of her pride as the journalist of the two of them, likes the arrangement, the chance to speak up, and she likes the way Chloe mellows out under it as well.
She throws one more look at the Brazilian delegate – same height as her, black hair, eyes the colour of polished wood – and lets herself relax in her seat. “You just want this to be over so you can go make out with Felix sooner.”
“Babe, I’m sorry, but this is the last day and we haven’t even started drafting the resolution yet, and I need to be on that plane to New York tonight.”
Alya mutters under her breath something indecent that makes Chloe snort, and the South Korean delegate throws them a look from across the hall. Chloe looks up, catches it, and smiles at him with her ‘hi, I’m the daughter of the Mayor of Paris’ smile, and he quickly looks away.
A lunch break gets called, and Chloe’s phone pings. After reading the message, she angles it towards Alya. It’s from Felix: Meet us in the hall after you get your sandwiches.
Alya’s eye twitches, but she complies.
Kagami Tsurugi is too much. Girl’s got everything – fluency in four languages (pending on two more, according to Felix), five international MUN under her belt (three of which she was voted best delegate in), many other awards in British Parliamentary style debate (which is how her and Felix became a team), and probably more money than Alya could ever dream of having.
These are the things Alya envies her for, and so these are the things she focuses on.
By the fourth ‘plenary session’ they all end up together in – an EU parliament style debate in Strasbourg (they’re paired by schools, but Kagami and Felix are together for some reason, which Alya will definitely find a way to pester them about because she’s convinced it’s not because of a bribe, which is neither of their preferred way to solve their problems) – Chloe’s throwing her raised eyebrows over her shoulder every time she talks to the girl.
“What?” Alya says, right after they disband on the second day.
“You’re, like, hardcore crushing on her, aren’t you?”
Alya blinks. “Come again?”
“Cesaire, please,” Chloe says, rolling her eyes. “You like people who can stand up to you. It’s why we’re friends. And much like me, Kagami’s also gorgeous, but she’s precisely the type of ‘understated’ that you like. A perfect fusion of me and Nino, if you will.”
“My ex and… someone I’ve never dated?”
“Someone too soft for you and someone too expensive for you.”
Now it’s Alya’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “She might have more money than you.”
Chloe shrugs. “She might. That’s what makes her the perfect improvement, if you will.”
Alya snorts, and then Chloe doesn’t push anymore because Chloe is Chloe and she will not wade emotional waters she doesn’t have to, but she’s also… right.
Because Kagami Tsurugi also has polished wood eyes and model-perfect skin, and when you startle a laugh out of her there’s a light that comes out that’s like a pebble skipping on a calm pond – joyful and bright. And when she’s arguing for her position she’s the sharp edge of a steel blade, the captivating precision of a cut that’s just enough to tear her opponent down. Alya isn’t even mad anymore when it turns on her; it’s forced her to sharpen her own blade and do better. Adrien had only shown her how to do fencing once, but he and Kagami have apparently been practicing together for years now; she wonders if that’s what it’s like for him as well. If maybe the reason they’d apparently broken up after a short stint together had been because she’d pushed him too much.
It makes her itch.
“My, my, it’s been a while, Alya.”
Alya pauses just for a second, hands on the chair she’s about to move from the top of the stack. She turns around and lets a single corner of her mouth go up – it’s not baring her teeth, but it’s enough of a warning.
“Lila. What are you doing here?”
There’s no the fuck in the middle of that sentence, but there should be. This is a small regional debate in the ass-nowhere of Normandy; her and Chloe had only come to get some practice in before their simulation in Rome the following month, and Kagami and Felix had come because they were maniacally competitive (really, they all were, but hush) and loved annoying them. The organisers didn’t even had the room fully prepared when they got here, which is why Alya volunteered to help set up with Kagami (who’s gone off to get the water case) and Felix and Chloe went to pick up some snacks from the closest store with whatever the 30 euro budget their chairs – two of the older licenciers on the organising committee from a local university – had given them. (And make out. They were always making out.)
After enduring a whole ten seconds of Lila just smiling at her, Alya picks up the chair and moves to place it around the table. Lila follows her, expression unchanged.
“Figured I’d get some practice before FAO next month. You are coming, right?” She pauses, and when Alya doesn’t reply, adds, “I can take you around Rome if you’d like.”
Alya stifles a snort, but there’s poison bubbling in her chest. “Oh? And why would we want that, now?”
Lila’s eyes crinkle. It’s not pleasant. Alya suddenly wishes for literally any of the others to come in so strongly it nearly topples her over.
“I know you come to these for the travel experience as well, Alya,” she murmurs, low enough for nobody else to hear. “Since Yourcenar is paying for it, generous lycée that they are – I know your family might have a bit of a hard time affording taking you around otherwise.”
Alya’s back is to her at that point because she’s picking up the next chair. She works her jaw, but before she can say anything, a voice comes up from behind her.
“Talking about other families’ means in this way is vulgar and revolting. I do hope you don’t expect to represent the UK with that attitude, Ms. Rossi.”
There’s a look of surprise on Lila’s face, and Alya’s actually as stunned as she is as she turns around to see Kagami place a water case with a loud thud. To anyone else, that might’ve been unintentional, but Alya can tell that she drops it just a bit early, enough to make Lila flinch.
“Why, Ms. Tsurugi,” Lila says, evidently trying to imitate the steel in Kagami’s tone, but her voice comes out too quiet for that. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“No, I don’t suppose you would.”
Kagami jerks her head towards the organisers arguing in hushed tones in the corner of the room. “I would suggest you make yourself useful before the proceedings start. There’s still work to be done.”
“It’s not my –our– work to do.”
“No, but we’ll all suffer for it if we don’t start on time,” and at that, Kagami turns her back to her, and starts unpacking the water case.
Lila stands there for a second more, then walks away. It’s the closest Alya’s ever seen her come to shuffling off somewhere, and she can’t help sliding closer to Kagami herself.
“You know her?”
“Yes. From the period Adrien’s father was trying to pull off that ridiculous marketing campaign that hinged on the two of them dating,” Kagami says, looking up from the water bottles, bangs framing her eyes. Alya’s breath catches in her throat. “Not a very astute character, for all that she pretends to be one.”
“Ah, astute, good word, there, I was worried you were going full Chloe for a second,” Alya says, but she can’t get her voice to work properly for some reason, so it comes out raspier than she intends. She can feel Kagami watching her as she turns her head to clear her throat.
“Yes,” Kagami says, stops, then continues, “have we heard anything from the two of them, by the way? It’s been nearly half an hour, the store isn’t that far away.”
Alya can’t help rolling her eyes a bit.
“You know how they are. They’ll be here five minutes before the start and no sooner.”
Kagami frowns. “I would’ve thought they’d have settled at least a bit already.”
Alya shrugs, picking up another chair, and Kagami joins her in placing the final ones around the table. “I guess they’re just into it. Neither of them is good with feelings, and this is no-strings-attached, so whenever they get around each other they make the most of it.”
“Are you implying there’s something more going on between them?”
“Maybe,” Alya says, eyes trained on the last chair as she heaves it, “maybe not. I meant more that the concept of it is attractive to them, you know. Having someone available that way, and being available to them in return.”
“Would that be attractive to you?”
She drops the chair just before the hind legs can touch the ground, so it clatters, but not too badly. “What?”
Kagami pushes one of the desks forming the ‘round table’ further in to align it better with its neighbour before looking at her again. “The no-strings-attached thing?”
Alya swallows a bit. “Uh, no, I wouldn’t say so.”
“Me neither,” Kagami says, maneuvering another desk. “That’s why I asked – I thought you might be speaking from personal experience and could help me understand it better. I think you did, anyway, but I was wondering if the insight came from any specific place.”
Alya swallows again. Something’s not right. Kagami’s straightforward, but rarely about asking people things this personal, and while her measured cadence is unchanged, there’s a slight clip to her intonation that makes Alya’s senses twitch.
“Mostly, if I’m interested in someone and I think they might be interested in me, I make it known,” Kagami adds, bumping the final desk into place with her hip and raising her eyes to meet Alya’s. “I used to be a lot more brash about things, but I tend to wait and see now.”
“That’s a good strategy,” Alya says, licking her lips. The debate’s starting in, like, ten minutes. Now isn’t the time, but– “Me, I like feeling people out as well. Seeing where they’re at, mentally.”
Kagami hums before moving around the desks separating them. She comes to stand in front of Alya but slightly to the left. Alya is suddenly very conscious of the fact that they’re pretty much the same height and that, as a result, Kagami’s palm is dangling next to hers.
“And where are you at? Mentally,” Kagami says, the back of her hand lightly bumping against the back of Alya’s. She looks over her shoulder, as if watching the door in case anyone comes in.
Alya takes her hand into her own and squeezes. “These days, wherever we're debating next.”
Kagami moves her head to look at her, and the smile she gives her is as brilliant as it is honest. There’s people coming in, now, getting signed in by the organisers, but Alya doesn’t really give a shit. “Me too. We could meet outside of simulations, though.”
“We could,” Alya says, and, emboldened, lets her thumb stroke above Kagami’s knuckles. “Though I rather like our debates.”
“I do, too, which is why I’d like to make them private.”
And that, rather than anything else, makes Alya blush. Hard enough, apparently, to make Chloe screech in giggles as she comes in through the door and sees them.
(“You looked like something out of a yuri series,” Chloe says later, and Alya throws a piece of popcorn at her head. “Full on sparkly anime eyes and all.”
“Shut up and go back to texting Felix,” Alya mutters, knowing she doesn’t have a leg to stand on.
It’s okay, though. This isn’t a debate she has to win.)