Archive of Our Own ^beta

Shalom absentmindedly touched her fingertips, the ones that, just a while ago, were carressing those of the MBCC Chief's. She could still feel the phantom warmth on them, so unlike the cold of her hands. Now, the source of that warmth was lying on a bed in the Bureau, unconscious, being tended and looked after by staff and Sinners. Shalom spared a glance at the busy corner where the Chief slept. Memories overtook her for but a moment as she wrested her self-control to not ruminate over the Chief any longer. A second more of this contemplative silence—especially accompanied by that barely-concealed longing gaze she kept sending the Chief's way—would only alert Schorl to administer one of its many tests on her psyche.

Shalom's musings were startled by a sudden flash of green within her peripheral vision. The loyal Adjutant Nightingale, ever vigilant, approached the Hush. The Schorl above Shalom's shoulder whirred, seemingly alerted by the other's approach. "Adjutant," Shalom began, "how is the Chief doing?" The Adjutant straightened her back and replied, "she's fine. Her unconsciousness was brought upon by fatigue. She's expected to recover shortly." Shalom imperceptibly sighed, "that's a relief. You have to look after that one, she can be quite... intense when working, as you know. I hope you all can take care of her." Of course Shalom knew that there was much more to the cause of the Chief's fainting, but fatigue was a legitimate factor for it too, and thus, she didn't even need to fake the concerned tone lacing her gentle words. Nightingale's eyes felt sharp on Shalom; ‘ quite like her namesake ’, she thought. Could the Adjutant feel the genuine worry that underlied Shalom's sentiment? Perhaps not. Yes, it would be better if no one, whomever they might side with, could perceive her true concerns over the Chief. For if they could see it, they'd be met with a cacophony of colors; a torrential stream of feelings, unnamed and not yet pondered upon. A vast ocean still uncharted by herself. Yet, one thing would be clear above it all: yearning .

Ah, yearning. One of the first feelings that awakened within the once-empty Hush. Right after the pain and the fear, she felt a distinct feeling that was more complicated. She was yearning for more . Her eyes closed as she let herself sink into a second of nostalgia. 

"-to us."

Shalom blinked. "I'm sorry?" She asked. The Schorl turned to her, as if wanting to analyze the lapse of focus the Hush experienced. "We won't let her overwork herself. She's in good hands, you can be assured and leave the wellbeing of the Chief to us," Nightingale replied, repeating her earlier statement. Her cold tone and choice of words felt detached and generic, as if she was repeating a meaningless, rehearsed sentence. But, Shalom knew that it was more due to her conversation partner's presence than her actual sentiments over the Chief. Behind those sharp eyes, Shalom could discern an apparent emotion: care. Nightingale, like many others in the Bureau, cared about the chief. This care could be manifested in many ways. In the case of Nightingale, one of those cases include being overly—or perhaps, sufficiently—wary of the Paradeisos envoy. She didn't mind. After all, this vigilance would make the Adjutant worthy of protecting the Chief. Her Chief.

The thought gave her a tiny sensation in her chest; the one that she often felt when thinking about Minos' Chief. 'A pleasant tingle' was what Shalom used to refer to it as of now. Shalom almost smirked. She had to keep her fondness for the other woman in check, after all.

"Of course. The MBCC is filled with competent and sensitive individuals. I leave her in your care." Shalom smiled, but she hoped that the curve of her mouth and the tone of her voice conveyed the unsaid threat. By the looks of the Adjutant's tightening jaw, it seemed that Nightingale got her point. "We'll keep her safe," Nightingale nodded as she departed.

"I'd better go. My job here is done after all. The Chief did well, she exceeded our expectations. So, I'll happily take my leave to report back to Paradeisos," Shalom called out before Nightingale got too far. The Adjutant peered back over her shoulder, nodding and affirming the message. As her gaze turned from Shalom, the Sinner left to gather her things from her designated room.

It didn't take long for her to pack. But looking at this room... Shalom felt her legs go heavy. A relentless want to stay here nudged at the back of her growing heart. She sighed.

"Schorl." 

The floating tool regarded its "owner" as it shifted to hover in front of Shalom. "I'd like to rest here a bit at the moment. What happened has... taken a toll on me," she asked.

Schorl, a black diamond-shaped weapon, a trusted enigmatic tool from Paradeisos, should not be able to convey much emotion, but its whirr and movement seemed to suggest that it was against that request. "Hush-X," Schorl began, "we shall grant you this due to your constant loyal service to Paradeisos. However, we suggest you refrain from arbitrarily asking for impromptu breaks while on the field. If you are feeling unwell, you should let us conduct some tests on you-"

"I'm fine. I just feel a bit tired dealing with the Chief, that's all." Shalom's voice, cold as a steel knife, cut off Schorl. She was careful to not seem too indignant to keep the façade of the "loyal tool" well. She continued, "and thank you for this chance. Don't worry, this won't turn into a habit." She let one corner of her lips lift to form a smirk. 

"But... could you leave me to recuperate, please?" 

Schorl might be unable to emote, but Shalom still felt a piercing gaze aimed at her. "Very well." The acquiescence was short, but she could feel the underlying threat. ' I'm on thin ice, aren't I? ' She thought.

But that didn't matter to Shalom as her Schorl exited the room, leaving her alone. She took a deep breath, savoring the faint floral smell of her room. Her glance fell upon the bed, still messy from her pushing the Chief onto it. Shalom smirked and made her way to lie on the bed after discarding her leather coat.

Her eyes widened. The sheets... smelled of Chief. Gentle, powdery, with a note of cedar. 

Shalom let her head fall sideways, breathing in, her long hair spread across the pillow. She stripped the gloves that cover her hand to... what, exactly? To feel closer--more intimate--to the Chief's remaining presence on her bed? Shalom let a light grimace paint across her face, embarrassment colored her exasperated sigh.

' Oh, Chief, the things you make my cold, dead heart feel... '

To Shalom, it didn't matter whether the feelings that the Chief evoked within her were considered enjoyable or not; good or not. Because every single sting in her heart, each little curve of her lips, the warmth and coldness that Shalom felt from the Chief, she cherished. This was all her. Because of her, Shalom was once again human. Or something close to that, at least.

The Chief chipped the steel wall of rationality that trapped her. From that small hole in the wall, more things poured in. Feelings, emotions, desire, will, experience. She was slowly gaining everything that was forcibly taken away from her. Because of Chief, she was no longer just Shalom, Hush-X, envoy of Paradeisos. She began to resemble the little purple-haired rebellious girl she once was. Would she be able to be "herself" again after so long? Would her voice echo like Rebel's cries? Would she burn the entire world to ashes for what it did to her? Tearing apart a small child to be the means to their end... Would she seek revenge then?

She didn't know. Perhaps not. Maybe she wouldn't ever be what the little girl was. They were too far apart, separated by so much more than time. But, wouldn't that be okay as well? If she were to become another kind of person entirely, would it be alright? Would that little girl love her then? Would the Chief-

Shalom buried her head onto the pillow even more, wanting to envelop herself within the Chief's comforting scent. Feeling herself getting more relaxed, in this rare moment of bliss, she let her thoughts wander...

---

Alone in a dimly lit room, Shalom regarded the person before her. She was bound, her hair was longer, and her constitution weaker. But, her passion—her fury—was more fiery than ever. Before Shalom sat the shadow of the current Chief of MBCC.

Shalom forgot the exact words she said to the bound woman. She was probably reassuring her, filling her head with empty promises to gain her desperate compliance. But, as her hand fleetingly touched the other’s shoulder, burning red marks rapidly crawled all around her skin.

The screaming prisoner, bound by a straitjacket, unleashed her powers just through the slightest hint of a touch. The easy display of power was mesmerizing, but it wasn’t what rooted Shalom in place. It was her. The red shackles commandeered by the prisoner’s will chained Shalom, not letting her leave.

The prisoner was… in pain. Her action was violent and her glare malicious, but she was much like a cornered, hurt animal. She was baring her teeth, but she just wanted relief. From what, Shalom had no idea. It wasn’t her job to ask questions. She now wished she had, though. 

“I will never forgive! Never!” The raven-haired screamed.

And, hearing that, something was awakened somewhere deep within Shalom. A feeling. A memory. A little purple-haired girl with frail hands holding a dying lily. The same angry little girl that thrashed, punched, kicked, and bit at the hands that swore to tear her piece by piece. The little girl whose cries still echo beyond the Rift.

In that moment, in front of this beautiful woman, for the first time in 20 years—maybe the first time in her entire life—Shalom felt companionship. With her newly rebirthed heart, Shalom felt another feeling rose. And another. 

And another.

And so much emotion was bubbling up, it was threatening to overwhelm her. Panic set deep in her stomach; what if she was consumed by mania? What if Schorl was forced to kill her right then and there? What if-

Suddenly, the red shackles around her body burned brighter. But, with it, she also felt significantly calmer. Like she could handle whatever may come.

Seeing this escalation, Schorl got ready to attack. “Stop! Don’t attack!” Shalom hurriedly halted it with a command. “I’m fine. She didn’t hurt me.” Schorl backed down after Hush-X’s reassurance.

Shalom’s focus fell back on the woman in front of her. She was unmoving, unyielding, and her eyes still contained that animosity. Her brows were furrowed in a glare and her jaw was clenched. But, something was different. It was as if the black-haired woman was able to feel Shalom’s change. There was a hint of understanding behind those eyes and her body, though still tense, backed down a bit from her. And—Shalom wasn’t sure if she had imagined this or not—but her gaze turned softer.

Then, for the first time, the woman spoke to her calmly.

“Who are you?”

---

Shalom sighed. Reliving the memory of their first meeting together brought a small smile on her face. Sure, their meeting was not idyllic nor was it romantic; but it was one of the best things that had ever happened in Shalom’s life.

She looked up to the ceiling, reminiscing about the time that she had spent observing the Chief and the MBCC this month. She couldn’t help the chuckle from escaping her lips. 

Ah, this was an elusive and rare emotion for Shalom. Happiness.

Spending the past month in the MBCC, learning more about the Chief as well as other people that lived there, delighted Shalom. The days when Shalom got to go on a mission with the Chief or just lounge about the MBCC with its Chief were her favorites. Then, she would let herself get closer to her, feeling her warmth, breathing her scent. On those days, she’d let gloved hands linger on the Chief’s body. She had committed the Chief’s many reactions to memory. Her frown and the tilt of her head as she came across something that puzzled her. The glint in her eyes when she saw her Sinners being their ridiculous selves. The crinkles on the corners of her eyes when she was particularly delighted. The way her eyes widened frequently when she talked with Shalom. And…

And the way her eyes seemed to trace Shalom’s every feature. The way it lingered on her lips. And when her gaze moved back to Shalom’s eyes, she could see behind those irises, the color of smoky quartz, something akin to desire. Perhaps, just like Shalom, she also yearned for more. But, more of what? More insights to her past? More information about the Hush and Paradeisos? More of Shalom and her touches? She surmised that it might be all of them, judging by the intensity of the want in those eyes.

Shalom squeezed her eyes shut, wishing that the figure of the MBCC’s Chief could be burned, imprinted, behind her eyelids, so that she might have her whenever she wanted. She wished to carry a piece of her, the cause of her humanity, the evidence of resilience, wherever she went. She longed for that companionship, for her friend . 

She let herself rest surrounded by the lingering remains of the Chief’s presence for a while longer. But, Shalom worked for Paradeisos. There was no rest for the wicked. So, after a short time, she got up, intending to tidy up for the final time before she departed.

After she was sure that she was ready to leave, she tried not to linger in the Bureau too long; she tried not to hold on to the thought of Chief too tightly. Of course, her impeccable self-control was able to grant her wish, but not without some struggling from the Hush. But, however this farewell was making her feel, she would not make it visible to anyone, especially Schorl, which already took its rightful place above Shalom’s shoulder. 

With a concealed sigh and a last look toward the Bureau, Shalom turned away to walk through its front doors.

Until she heard quick steps and panting approaching her from behind. “Wait! Shalom!” A voice shouted.

Shalom halted and looked to the source of the commotion behind her. There, the chief stood—well, barely stood. Her body was bowed, her hands planted on her bent knees as she struggled to catch her breath. Behind her, Shalom could see medical staff trying to catch up with the runaway Chief whom the Chief dismissed with a wave of her hand. Shalom let herself show an amused smile when the Chief finally lifted her head up.

“Leaving without saying goodbye, Envoy? That’s quite a rude treatment to give to your friend ,” the Chief said through light panting; her eyes glinting with mirth and annoyance. “Hmm, but I believe I already said farewell, Chief,” Shalom’s smile got wider, teasing. “Not a proper one. So, you’re still rude,” the Chief huffed. Shalom let out a light chuckle. “Oh, no. Whatever should I do to make up for such rude treatment, dear Chief?” Shalom hoped that she didn’t look as delighted as she felt.

The Chief smirked, “you should give me your proper goodbyes—privately. Surely, the envoy can spare a few minutes for the MBCC Chief, correct?” As she said this, the Chief looked at Schorl, almost glaring. The Hush spared a glance to the floating tool before it hovered away from the two of them. Shalom would be in quite a bit of trouble when she got back. No matter, she would be able to handle it. It would be worth it anyway.

“Alright, Chief, now that you have me all to yourself, where do you want me?” Shalom asked the question with faux innocence, intending to tease the Chief further. Sure enough, the Chief caught on to the possible—and definitely unintended—euphemism. Shalom could see redness started to creep to the Chief’s ears, although her face remained impassive. “Let’s go to my office, I have something to give you.” Shalom just raised her eyebrow and smirked as a response, which made the Chief turn even redder. 

The walk back to the office was filled with their usual easy banter, only this time, they’re more casual, no topic relating to work ever came up. They took longer to get there than usual. Shalom had a sneaking suspicion that that was intentional. Whether it was the work of the Chief or herself, she was unsure.

“Your adjutant was quite worried about you,” Shalom suddenly interjected while on their way. The Chief perked up, “well, I did lose consciousness out of nowhere. It is only expected that she would react like that.” 

“You know that she wasn’t only worried about that,” Shalom got closer to the Chief. She zeroed in on the Chief’s pallid complexion, the tired bags under her eyes. She clicked her tongue. “Your Adjutant does not take kindly to your incessant habit of overworking, you know?” The Chief scoffed, “of course I do. But, my mountain of work isn’t gonna sort itself out. Plus, since when did you care about what Nightingale thinks?”

Shalom chuckled, “your adjutant is competent and I respect her very much.” The Chief looked at her with an unconvinced expression. “Sure, and everytime I saw you two in the same room together, I could feel the affection and respect in the air. You should have tea together sometimes,” the Chief said sarcastically.

“Regardless, she’s right about your work habits. You need to relegate your duties more, Chief—not that I’m telling you how to do your job, naturally,” Shalom said with a smirk, though her concern was genuine. “If you’re not saying this to get me to run the Bureau in your preferred manner, then what’s the purpose of this admonishment?” the Chief asked; even if her words were a bit barbed, her demeanor was still relaxed and Shalom could tell that the Chief was just keeping up the back and forth out of amusement.

“Isn’t it obvious?” as Shalom said this, she gently cupped the Chief’s face. She only meant to touch her shoulder, but her body betrayed her. She made a mental note to add “temptation” to the list of feelings that the Chief evoked in her. “I just want to see you healthy, Chief. I only wish for your wellbeing,” Shalom said genuinely. For once, she hoped to be like an open book—or more aptly, an open chapter—to someone. She wished that her sincerity and affection could be felt by the gray-eyed woman.

“ You want to see me healthy? Or is it Paradeisos that wants that?” The Chief’s tone was calm, though Shalom could sense a bit of an edge that wasn’t present before. Shalom’s hand hadn’t left the other woman’s cheek and she started to gently caress her skin with her thumb. The Chief exhaled through her nose and seemed to lean more toward her palm, her posture even more relaxed. 

“Chief, when I’m with you like this, alone and close to you; when no other ear can hear; when the only witness to the both of us and our moment is the air, I can assure you, that I only speak for myself,” Shalom began with a whisper. “So, when I said that I want you to be well, I meant it. I never want any harm to come to you, including the harms which are caused by your own carelessness.” Shalom sighed. “As I have said before, I know that you don’t recall anything about our past and I understand if my feelings for you are one-sided. But, I care about you. I hope you can trust that sentiment.”

How Shalom wished she could just reveal what she wanted at that moment. It’s the Chief. Shalom wanted the Chief , her Chief . She wanted to keep her safe and sound. She wanted her to live and thrive. She wanted her to be happy surrounded by things and people that she cherished. She wanted her one and only true companion in this world to live a life of freedom that she knew was impossible for herself. She wanted her Chief to fulfill every dream she’d ever had before she was broken and echo the long-forgotten cries for liberation that had been buried ever since. Being placed in similar positions within this figurative chessboard, Shalom the pawn can only hope that the Chief could reach the other side and bloom into the queen, free to roam as she pleases. Whether or not her own pawn self should be sacrificed in that crusade, she didn’t care. 

She would care, actually. Of course she would prefer to survive all this and eventually live for herself. But, the future was bleak for an old loyal dog like Shalom, who had understood that her fate was sealed by Paradeisos a long time ago. So, in face of such futility, the Hush chose to protect her companion, her twin flame, so she could live the way Shalom would never be able to.

“Keep yourself safe and healthy, Chief. Many people are counting on you,” Shalom said, the corners of her eyes crinkling. The Chief covered Shalom’s hand, the one on her cheek, with her own. “I’ll try.” Little did Shalom know, her sincerity reached the Chief, who began to feel a bit embarrassed that she made so many people worried.

“I’ll be more conscious of my wellbeing from now on. But, only if you promise to do the same,” the Chief said while holding Shalom’s hand a bit tighter. Shalom chuckled, “I’m always cautious, Chief. You need not worry about me.”

“Are you?” The Chief asked, startling Shalom. The Chief continued, “I’ve gone on field missions with you and I got this sense of… carelessness about yourself. You’re calm and calculating, but you don’t ever hesitate to take a bullet for someone. I’d say you should be more careful with yourself, seeing as you are an important Paradeisos official, but I think I’d be a hypocrite. If you’d allow me to speculate…” the Chief got closer to Shalom, now only a breath away. “You are enigmatic, but you always have a goal. You deem yourself as cautious, but no price is too high for your goal; in that sense, you’re pretty extreme. I say this because I saw that you’d even put yourself on the line for an agenda. The question is,” the Chief’s eyes on Shalom grew more intense. “What is your goal, Shalom?”

“You wouldn’t even believe me if I told you that my goal is to help you, would you? In your eyes, I am a mysterious and suspicious figure from Paradeisos. So, my answer would probably not satisfy you, but it’s the truth. I want to help you,” Shalom said, her eye contact never wavering. “Why?” The Chief uttered such a simple question knowing that the answer would be anything but.

“I care about you and consider you a friend. I know that answer is not sufficient for you, but I am being sincere. You would know the details in time, but not now.” Shalom’s voice grew lower and gentler. The Chief was the first to avert her gaze, though not for long, as Shalom lightly turned the Chief’s head back to her. The Chief sighed. “Alright… now, I believe we were talking about you?”

Shalom giggled, “seems we’re getting back to that topic. I thought I was able to evade your concerns.” The Chief scoffed whilst smirking, “yeah, right, like I would let that happen.” She continued, “you’re not taking good care of yourself either,” the Chief frowned. Shalom smirked, causing the Chief’s eyes to wander from her eyes down to her lips. “Are you worried about me, Chief?” Shalom whispered.

The Chief’s breath hitched, only now truly realizing how close they were. But, more than that, she was shocked by what she was thinking about Shalom’s lips; how she wondered how they might feel. The Chief, after a few seconds, finally realized she had not yet answered Shalom’s question. Not one to shy away from honesty and feelings, the Chief decided to just be candid, “Yes, I do, Shalom.”

Shalom gave a satisfied sigh, “good to know our feelings are mutual, then.” The Chief frowned at her again, determined not to drop the subject, “yet, you don’t seem to cherish your life as I do.” Shalom was quick with a response, “and vice versa.” “Touché,” the Chief admitted.

She groaned, “then, I’ll promise not to overwork myself and ignore my health if you promise to stop treating your life like a currency.” Shalom laughed, resting her forehead against Chief’s. The purple-haired woman replied, “that’s quite a hard bargain. But-”

Shalom was cut off as the Chief’s lips met hers. The kiss was tender and lasted only for a few seconds. When they parted, Shalom’s eyes were wide. With the amount of times Shalom was caught off-guard by the Chief’s antics, you’d think she’d be more used to surprises by now. Evidently not. 

“No but’s,” the Chief began, their foreheads once again touching. She closed her eyes, continuing, “if you want to help me, I’m sure you’d be more useful alive. And I want you alive. Your life matters a lot, Shalom.”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Shalom replied, suddenly bitter. She sighed, her voice turning calm and gentle once more, “Chief, I’m not some important Paradeisos higher-up. I’m a tool. I have always been and will always be a Paradesian tool.” 

“So?”

Shalom retracted from the Chief, looking at her eyes once more. “A tool is replaceable, Chief. A tool is made for a purpose higher than itself. You’re asking me to-”

“I’m asking you to be human,” the Chief interjected. “I’m asking you to treat yourself with the humanity you deserve-” Shalom scoffed. The Chief didn’t know that she was not human. Her humanity had been stripped away. The notion that she was more than a means to an end was ridiculous. Unthinkable. She desperately wanted to be human because she wasn’t. She spent her time clinging to traces of emotions, tirelessly observing people, all in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, she’d become one too. Even this desperation she wasn’t able to let go of. But, she had been long broken. What was the point of caring so much about a thing , a tool , an unnamed, uncared for blight in society? Shalom was not a human, she’d already understood this rationally, so why-

Two gentle hands disrupted her reverie. “Shalom?” How could two syllables sound like the world? Why did Shalom’s name on the Chief’s lips feel like the first touch of spring after the freezing cold? And why was the Chief looking at her like that ? As if she wanted to hold her and never let go. But, not in the way people hold their prized possessions. Instead, it was like the waves’ gentle touches on sand, like the unyielding ground hugging countless roots, like gravity that keeps you from floating away. Shalom felt grounded. She sighed.

“Chief… I’m afraid it’s just a waste of time to care so much for a tool.” Shalom smiled. The chief, mortified, took a second before replying, “then, why do you care for me?” Shalom’s breath hitched. “You are the Chief of MBCC, you’re hardly a tool-”

“Oh, cut the bullshit. I am a tool just as you are. We are both pawns of this,” the Chief gestured wildly with her hands, “ridiculous fight between powers greater than ours. But, so what? Are you just going to take that label of a tool and be done with it? Would you really let them dictate what you are and how much you’re worth in their selfish schemes? I am not a tool. And that’s not because no one sees me as such, but because I would not let anyone dictate my role in the world. I am the final say of what I am. I am not a tool not because I have rid of all my chains, but because I don’t let those chains become one with me. So, why are you so hellbent on being a replaceable tool? Do you want to be one?”

Shalom stayed quiet. She looked into those passionate eyes and couldn’t help but smile. With her strength and stubbornness, of course the Chief would get her ultimate freedom one day and Shalom would do everything in her power to help achieve that. As for her… Shalom’s eyes glazed over.

“Shalom.”

Her eyes returned to find a pair of heated ashen-colored ones. “You don’t have to be one.” Was that… hurt in the Chief’s eyes? Why was she hurting? Surely, it wasn’t because of Shalom’s plight? Shalom bit her lip, frowning, “Chief, you don’t have to-”

Again, she was silenced by the Chief, but this time it was due to the Chief’s warm body pressing against her in a warm embrace. “No, you don’t have to be so stuck in your ways. Seriously, Shalom, what does it take for you to start cherishing your life? Regardless of what people want from you, regardless of how they see you, regardless of what they dictate you are, you have the ultimate say in what you deserve and who you are,” the Chief’s hold on her got tighter, “so, I wish you would be kinder to yourself, okay?” The Chief buried her face on Shalom’s neck.

Once again, the Chief managed to open up so many floodgates within Shalom, it was almost impossible to name every feeling that arose. Contentment. Surprise. Gratitude. Disbelief. Warmth. Shalom stopped listing them off and decided to just enjoy this embrace whilst it lasted. She leaned her head against the Chief’s and hummed.

“I’ll try, Chief,” Shalom finally replied. And she meant it. She would try looking at it through the Chief’s perspective. Maybe ultimate freedom wasn’t something so far and unthinkable for her after all. Maybe she could share that freedom with her Chief as well and vice versa. Ah, she was toying with the idea of hope now. A very dangerous feeling, hope . It was the want, the expectation, the waiting and having faith in the possibility of things getting better. And things rarely ever get better for ones such as Shalom. But, if hope would return her to the Chief’s warm, inviting arms, she might consider it more in the future.

They spent a few more seconds content in each others’ arms until Shalom’s body shook with light laughter. “Are we not going to talk about what happened?” The woman asked with an arched eyebrow and a smirk. The Chief blushed lightly, “ah, the kiss?” Shalom nodded, her smile grew more teasing. “My, Chief. I hope you don’t kiss every distraught Sinner in the Bureau.” The Chief, although slightly embarrassed, returned the banter, “of course I don’t. I wouldn’t dare to make you jealous.” Shalom gave a hum of appreciation, “good. So, why exactly did you kiss me, Prince Charming?” The Chief rolled her eyes at the ridiculous nickname, “to shut you up,” the Chief simply said before she once again kissed the Paradeisos woman. Shalom couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. 

Once again, the kiss was chaste. It was more driven by soft feelings rather than passion, but the look in the Chief’s gaze seemed to contradict that. Nevertheless, gentle affection was the winning emotion in the war of desire that waged within the two of them. They were once again in each other’s embrace, as the Chief leaned in to whisper in Shalom’s ear, “I need you. And my desire to see you again and again seems to overpower everything. So, don’t you dare be careless with your life.” Shalom gave a soft laugh in return, “right back at you, Chief.”

Boldened by the two kisses she received, Shalom let her lips meet the Chief’s once more. The Chief’s lips were warm and soft and oh so inviting. Their kiss was deeper this time and Shalom felt as if she was pulled into the abyss through it in which she was surrounded only by her Chief. It was as if there was a vignette in her vision, a halo of light encasing the only worthwhile person in her life. Gods above, please let her indulge, just this once. After all the torture and dehumanization, shouldn't she deserve compensation? If not ultimate freedom, then this; the drowning of her senses by the presence of the woman she held most dearly. 

The Chief flooded Shalom’s self with emotions and feelings so strong as to buckle her knees. The Chief was Shalom’s mania and she never expected insanity to feel this right.

They stayed in their embrace for a while, growing more and more conscious of the little time they had left together. The Chief finally sighed and pulled away. “I have something to give you,” she began as she moved to rummage through her desk drawer. She retrieved a small velvet box that she opened to reveal a locket. It was a beautiful silver piece with carved floral patterns. 

The Chief moved to be behind Shalom. “May I?” She asked. Shalom nodded and swiped her long hair, giving space for the Chief’s gift. The Chief’s fingers brushed the nape of her neck, making Shalom shuddered a bit. It’s always the littlest gestures that feel the most intimate. “Done,” the chief whispered; Shalom could feel her breath on her neck faintly, sending shivers down her spine. They both turned to the mirror in the Chief’s office, admiring the new jewelry now sitting in the middle of Shalom’s chest. It was magnificent. The craftsmanship was impeccable. Shalom wondered how such intricate patterns could be made on such a small surface. 

“Thank you, Chief,” Shalom said softly, neither her eyes nor her fingers retracted from the locket on her chest. “But, why the sudden gift?” She asked, averting her gaze from the locket’s reflection onto the other woman’s eyes in the mirror. The Chief hadn’t left her spot behind Shalom, her hands now ghosting over Shalom’s waist. “I found it when I went on my last field mission in Syndicate. I was surprised to see a jeweler there, let alone such a talented one. I ended up talking to him for a while. He said he was an ex-gang member who decided to find a new path in life after losing some of his friends in turf battles. He had always loved crafting, but his fellow gang members always teased him about it, saying that it was a useless hobby. Deep down, though, they genuinely liked his works. After listening to his stories, I decided to scrounge up some money to “invest” in his business. He was really grateful and let me pick several pieces free of charge. I ended up taking a matching silver necklace and ring. It was perfect; I love the carvings, the model, and, well, the flowery patterns reminded me of you too. Since it was a pair, I decided to keep the ring and give the locket to you.” As she said this, the Chief moved to her desk to retrieve and wear the matching ring.

Shalom turned to the Chief, “aren’t you a romantic?” The Chief’s face rapidly turned a shade of red, “that’s not- this gift is- I didn’t mean to-” she stumbled over her words and gave up with a groan. Shielding her warm face with her hand, the Chief answered, “what do you mean ‘romantic’?” 

Shalom laughed, “Chief, you got us matching jewelleries. Isn’t this the sort of thing that couples do? Add that with the kisses and well…” She continued to tease the Chief, relishing in her adorable reactions. The Chief stuttered, “I- I’m sorry if I overstep. I was just- Ugh, I’m sorry,” the Chief frowned and… was she pouting? Shalom got closer to the Chief and she confirmed that the Chief of MBCC was jutting her lower lip in a pout. But, Shalom was a magnanimous one, so she didn’t want the Chief to feel too embarrassed.

 She cupped the Chief’s face once again, “I never said you overstepped. I’m touched by your gift. Thank you, Chief. As for the kiss…” Shalom leaned in to whisper into the Chief’s ear, “I wouldn’t mind if you do it again and again. Or… would you prefer if I initiate them in the future, hm?” Shalom’s lips were so close that they touched the Chief’s earlobe every other word, making her shudder.

The Chief buried her face in Shalom’s neck again. “God, you tease me too much, Shalom.” She complained, earning a chuckle and reply from the other woman, “don’t you like it?” The Chief could only nod against her shoulder.

After a while, the Chief retreated, “in any case, I’m afraid I can’t keep you for too long. I worry about what those Paradeisos people might do to me if I don’t return you soon.” Shalom’s eyes widened imperceptibly, completely forgetting that she was on a schedule. As one of the best tools in Paradeisos, she was not prone to making these sorts of mistakes. But, with Chief, she always felt removed from her role. With Chief, she was but a simple woman, a Sinner in line for redemption by the Chief. Shalom replied, swallowing her own want lest she kept asking for more time with the Chief, “right. I must go back.”

The Chief bit her lip slightly and looked at Shalom. For once, she couldn’t decipher what emotions the person in front of her might be having. All the training and experiments they did on her to make the perfect Hush was for naught in the face of one woman’s gentle gaze. Whatever it might mean, Shalom only knew that it was a gaze delivered with an abundance of affection. That much was clear.

After a few seconds, the Chief began, sounding a little short of desperate, “Fine. Just promise me that we’ll meet again.” The request was made as she reached out to Shalom’s hands, intertwining their fingers together. The Chief continued, “I know it’s a hard promise to make. I know how dangerous our line of work could be. And I don’t know when we’ll see each other again. But, please, Shalom, swear to me that we’ll see each other again.”

To say that was a difficult promise to make was an egregious understatement. The Chief knew that, albeit partly. Shalom only had a year or two of service left and she wasn’t naïve enough to expect a peaceful retirement in a beautiful home at the end of her tenure. She knew what “retirement” meant for tools like her. After all, what use will people have with broken tools other than to discard them for parts? If anything, Shalom would not only be an old, broken tool, she would be a hazard; a loose end to be tied up. She knew she would have to leave the Chief and the world. She had known that there was no future for her a long time ago. She used to accept this fact.

But, now…

Shalom’s gaze lifted to find the smoky eyes of the other woman. This time, however, she didn’t only linger on her eyes or her lips; she was trying to commit everything to memory. In this process, she realized that the Chief looked more glum than she had been. Was it because of Shalom? Because she was having problems giving the Chief false hopes for a reunion that might not ever happen in this life? Then, what was she supposed to do?

Then, the Chief smiled mirthlessly. “Are you staying quiet because you can’t promise that?”

Silence.

“Yes.”

“Shalom,” her name on the Chief’s lips sounded desperate then. At that moment, Shalom felt tenderness and grief, the kind of which she had never felt before. The Chief continued, “I understand. Then, can you at least promise to cherish your life? Promise that you’d try your best to survive, for if you can’t meet me, then I shall come to you. But, I need you to be alive. Please.” The plea in the Chief’s voice was palpable, but not as obvious as the one in her eyes. Shalom gulped, a physical manifestation of her genuine emotions that rarely surfaced.

She didn’t answer immediately then. Although lying was now her second nature, she would hate to lie to the Chief. So, Shalom took her time, trying to think through her emotions and thoughts first before formulating a decision and voicing it.

Shalom would die before the Chief. She would die in the hands of Paradeisos once she had outlived her usefulness to them. Shalom would die for her goal; her goal was to help Chief attain true freedom. If reality was made up of infinite possibilities, then Shalom would infinitely die for her Chief. She had convinced herself that within countless possibilities, she would not be free in any of them. She was always destined to die for something and her final act of rebellion was choosing her own reason for martyrdom.

Yet, that reason now practically begged her not to die.

In this quiet moment, the purple-haired woman locked eyes with her Chief. Here stood the person Shalom most admired in the world with her righteousness and rebellion; with her determination and loyalty. The world had beaten the Chief to the ground yet she always stood back up. 

Perhaps she had been blaming circumstances too much. Perhaps the fault lie within Shalom herself. With her heart born anew, she had no excuse to stay the same tool she was forced to be. 

Maybe Shalom pushed herself to “free” the Chief because she was too scared to reach for her own liberty. 

They really had killed her.

Then, she killed herself.

The Chief had now resuscitated her.

But, it was her job to breathe and keep on living.

With a deep breath, Shalom made her choice.

“I promise.” Shalom kept her eyes on those gray ones, hers full of relief, her own full of determination. “I promise to give my all to live. I won’t let anything kill my spirit.” Shalom stepped forward, her hands on the Chief’s cheeks, their breaths becoming one. “I will keep living. Then, I’ll see you again. This, I promise to you, my dear.”

In a slight, almost inaudible whisper, Shalom mouthed against the other’s lips, “my dearly beloved, I will live for you and for myself.”

With those last words, Shalom sealed their promise with a kiss.

—

On her drive back to Paradeisos, Shalom kept replaying her farewell with the Chief over and over again. She sighed. After they kissed for the final time, the Chief had walked her back to her car and they exchanged a more formal and appropriate goodbye.

Ever since she parted from the Chief, Schorl had been examining her non-stop. Finally, though, the floating diamond chirped and announced that Shalom was stable.

She internally scoffed. 

Still looking outside the window, Shalom placed her hand over her new locket and moved it over her heart. She let her eyes slip closed and felt the beating of her heart against the locket. She had wanted a piece of the Chief to always be with her. Now that she had it, she would never let it go. She would hold it against her heart in the hopes that maybe the Chief would be able to feel her heartbeat through it; to know that Shalom was alive.

What a silly imagination. But, the thought sent so much elation to her heart that she couldn’t stop herself from smiling, prompting Schorl to exact another scan from her.

No matter. Each scan done towards her always reminded her of what the Chief had done to her. As Schorl beeped with its scan, Shalom never failed to internally thank the Chief for everything.

‘Thank you, Chief. The path of most resistance will be arduous, but worth it, for resistance will not come in through any other means. The journey ahead might kill us both. But, so long as I still draw breath, I will always drag my body, no matter how maimed, back home to you. We will meet again, dear. And by then, I promise you, we will walk free of restraints. My beloved Chief, my heart, I cannot wait to hold you and be bathed in our ultimate, eternal freedom. I’ll keep myself safe. And most importantly, I’ll keep you out of harm's way.’

‘Until we meet again, Chief.’