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It had indeed been a long day for Chiori. As the Fontaine Fashion Week had wrapped with its overlong, fancy gala she was worn out to the maxim. Many designers accompanied by investors from all across Teyvat had reached to her during the night, or at least they had tried to.
Standing right in the corner had surely helped her go unnoticed for a long time, but as someone with such a strong presence and significant history in fashion’s world it wouldn’t take long before she caught somebody’s eyes. She hadn’t put on her best face to engage in conversations with them, nor had she been interested in doing so. That way they would leave faster. Noticing her uninvolved behavior, all stopped their speeches, directed a grin towards her way, and excused themselves with time. Nothing new.
Nothing new. Those words were a repeating train in Chiori’s mind every time someone failed to delight her with their fashion proposals. Those people possessed enough resources –money and time– to give life to the most outstanding clothes of the year, garments that a model would fight to showcase. Yet they lacked emotion. Chiori lamented the ease with which one could discern that these attires were mere symbols of wealth and a step up in social status for their designers. It felt almost shameful that none of them had been conceived with the passion one should have for their profession. None of them exuded innovation or freshness. How could she even entertain the thought of collaborating with such workers?
That’s what led her outside the city of Fontaine. Desperate to free herself from the grip of exhaustion, she retreated to the nearest coast. Her last pair of heel-less model shoes made contact with the sand, with only her knee-high socks separating them. Thanks to the strength of her steps, they ended up half-buried in it. She directed her gaze at them; with an unresponsive expression, she knelt down to take them off. The feeling of her feet on the shore was not entirely pleasant, but it paled in comparison to the discomfort she had felt before.
As Chiori regained her composure, a brisk wind swept in from the open sea, carrying the chill of the night. The cold breeze caressed her bare skin, sending shivers down her spine. She could feel the sharp contrast between the cool, refreshing air and the stifling warmth she had endured amid the gala's crowds. She took a deep breath, letting the crisp air fill her lungs. The cold enveloped her, and for the first time in hours, she felt truly alive. The indifferent expression that had marked her face softened into a hint of contentment as she walked along the water's edge, the cool sand beneath her feet providing a grounding contrast to the opulence she had left behind.
Upon reaching the birthplace of the ocean, she took a seat among the starfish and seashells. She wrapped herself in her garments, paying no mind to the fact that they might become damp from the rising waves that hinted in her direction. Her hand approached the water and a freezing cold took over her previous sensations. By instinct, she removed her hand; however her position remained changeless. It didn’t take long before she got used to the feeling of the cold crawling into her skin. In fact, she enjoyed it more than the artificial warmth the bustling crowds embraced her with.
Her mind started roaming once she fully syntonized with the tranquil space. She knew leaving the party earlier than she was supposed to wasn’t a mistake, yet doubts arose. Had she been too harsh to those strangers? It should not be a surprise if she had been. Many people had told her that; she preached more sensibility towards others, they weren’t any mannequins she could handle to her own liking but people with actual feelings. She had endured herself in long discussions and losses of business contracts because of that. Chiori always called out those people who discredited her work, tonight she rolled her eyes all night long at other people’s. She found it hard to give an opportunity to people, she made her own way all alone in a foreign country, rejected by many who later came back as if nothing happened when she became a recurrent name on the streets. To them, her value was reduced to the money inside her pocket and not her artistry level. Was it really worth giving them a chance?
She stopped the rail of thoughts with an extended sigh as she snapped her head. She wasn’t about to ruin her night even more, especially by asking questions for which she couldn't approve of the answers. Perhaps she wanted to escape them just as she escaped the party.
Perhaps she wanted someone who could understand her passion and professionalism without the intention of digging too much further.
“Chiori?” A sweet voice managed to finally dissipate the fog of her thoughts, immediately making her tense up.
She turned back without standing up, noticing she was in a vulnerable position. Her shoulders showed a visible rigidity, her eyebrows were raised due to the sudden interruption of her peace.
Chiori’s eyes locked with the owner of the voice, none other than Chevreuse. She stood a few feet away, where the grass met the sandy shore. The appearance of the other girl instantly lighten Chiori's body, and in her chest, a feeling of comfort grew, surpassing even the soothing effect of the waves. However, what caught Chiori’s attention was the lack of Chevreuse’s signature eyepatch. She remained silent, fondly analyzing the girl; she could tell there was something wrong.
“Is everything alright?” The purple-haired asked, feeling Chiori’s silence was becoming too long. Her expression shifted to a slightly worried one, taking a step closer to the designer; hesitant to act up.
“Chevreuse” The designer glanced away, removing the grains of sand from her clothes to look presentable. This wasn’t normal for her. Chiori wasn’t accustomed to experiencing too many feelings simultaneously, nor was she used to letting them dictate her expressions and actions. She felt unbearably stupid, grappling with the unexpected surge of emotions she could not comprehend that were crashing her composed behavior. “My apologies. I did not mean to scare you.” Her tone was more neutral this time.
Chiori had the intention to stand up when she heard the captain timidly speaking. “Would you mind if I join you?” Her body language betrayed discomfort.
A fake smile adorned Chiori’s face. She didn’t wish for the girl to feel threatened about her “Not at all. Go ahead.” She moved to the side, signaling an empty space next to her for her to sit.
Chevreuse obliged; however she put more distance between the two, leaving the spot Chiori had left untouched. Her gaze was directed to the water, completely ignoring the brown-haired next to her. She quietly observed the waves.
Now being closer, it didn’t escape Chiori’s attentive gaze that the usual sparkle of Chevreuse’s eyes seemed dimmed and a hint of weariness clung to her features. The spot she had left between them surely didn’t pass unnoticed either. Her face wore nothing else but a burdened sorrow.
Chiori’s doubts started to bloom again as she stared at the girl in awe. She could not quite comprehend why still in such an awkward scenario she still felt completely relieved from the world’s outside danger. They weren't exchanging words, yet an unspoken shield seemed to manifest around her whenever Chevreuse was near.
There she stayed for some moments, sometimes wondering what had made the girl next to her so distant, other times just admiring her presence while trying to act unbothered.
“Taking a break from work?” The designer chose to break the silence with an ironic message. She knew Chevreuse would be the last person on earth to escape duty.
“I guess we could call it that” The captain spoke out in a low tone, as if she didn’t wish for the other to hear her words. She didn’t dare to glance at her direction.
This time it was Chiori who grew concerned by her friend’s attitude. Normally she would talk as if all her sayings were a command, steady and clear. She would always distinguish her voice as she arrived at the Chioriya Boutiques on her breaks. Has any of that sudden change of behavior been her fault?
Why did she feel guilty about that, anyway? The mere thought of disappointing a person she thought so highly of was not pleasing at all. She couldn’t help but compare herself to the merchants at the festival.
“You seem quite odd today.” She spit out back to her impassive tone, turning her head to face the distressed captain once again. “Is something the matter?”
“I just didn’t expect to run into you here.” For the first time that night, Chevreuse locked her gaze against Chiori’s; searching in her eyes that displeasure she could recognize in her voice. But Chiori’s eyes always glistened, she would always be too fond of them to realize that natural glow they had.
“Given all that muttering, it certainly appeared that way.” She glanced away. Chiori felt a gentle nudge within her, an inkling that perhaps she should stand up and leave Chevreuse to her solitude. The unspoken heaviness in the air suggested that the captain needed her own space. “Don’t worry, I understand.” she began to rise, intending to gracefully excuse herself, cleaning the grains of sand from her clothes when Chevreuse spoke.
“Where are you going?” The captain’s words sparked with curiosity as her face was tainted with confusion. She watched as Chiori picked up her heels and felt the sudden urge to slap herself. Most likely Chiori misinterpretated what she intended to say. God, could nothing today be good? “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I don’t want you to be here,” Chevreuse stated with a sincerity that made Chiori pause, mid-motion.
Chiori glanced back at Chevreuse, her eyebrows slightly furrowed. "Chevreuse, I get it. I needed some time, and I got it. I cannot keep wasting yours," she replied, her voice carrying a fake determination. She accompanied it with a side smile to let the girl know she didn’t feel offended.
A contemplative silence hung between them, the waves providing a soft backdrop. Chevreuse took courage, her expression earnest. “You’re not a waste of time,” she asserted, her tone unwavering. “I'd like it better if you stay.”
Chiori hesitated for a moment. A myriad of emotions flashed across the captain’s face – uncertainty, tension, and a slight touch of vulnerability. The missing eyepatch led Chiori to admire her face. It was an uncommon event seeing Chevreuse without it, it was always a reminder of her professionalism, a line she drew between her personal life and duty. So Chiori stopped to analyze her. She could not help but feel as if she was showing her true face, erasing every barrier between their hearts; as if Chevreuse was bare upon Chiori’s eyes and mercy, silently waiting but begging for her to stay, letting her take everything she dared to. Something raw. Something so undeniable real she almost felt obligated to believe her. Among all the feelings she previously noticed, she could distinguish a pure sincerity.
Slowly, she abandoned the heels, allowing the sand to reclaim her feet. With a soft manner, she settled back down beside Chevreuse, closer this time, the unspoken shield between them growing stronger against the backdrop of the calming waves.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Chiori shot her words as if they were arrows towards the purple-haired. She couldn't suppress her curiosity any longer, driven by a sincere desire to offer reassurance to Chevreuse amidst whatever difficulties she faced.
“Shitty day, just like many others,” She confessed, but the designer had a hunch that it wasn't feasible to believe her. It seemed as if words were threatening to escape into the air and perhaps expose something undesirable. The ambience was filled with insecurity. “We had a lot to unpack and I was stuck between papers and interrogations all day. I thought this was a nice place to chill out.”
The brown-haired woman reluctantly acknowledged that if the girl wasn't one of her closest friends, she might have easily fallen for the lie. It seemed she was mastering the art of hiding her true feelings, a skill possibly developed because of her profession— keeping emotions beneath the surface and maintaining a facade in the face of danger. While her dedication was something she admired, there wasn’t any reason to act as if she was another of her cases.
“Chevreuse.” She caught the other’s attention. She guided her arms to cross against her own chest in some sense of irritation.
“Huh?” was all the captain could express by the sudden call.
“You don’t need to play it cool around me. I know you. You know me. I hate when people lie to me.” Chiori spoke with such authority that it seemed she could easily take on the role of captain of the Surveillance Patrol. Secrecy had never been her style.
Chevreuse breathed hard. Chiori’s games were a challenge and she wasn’t the strongest soldier around her. “I’m sorry.” a defeated grimace appeared on her face. She looked for a more comfortable position, putting both her palms on the sand. She thought it was just her, but the wind intensified causing strands of her hair moving wildly. “Have you ever felt what you do is wrong no matter how hard you intend to make it right? As if you carried an inevitable curse?” The words seemed to escape as fluidly as the water flowed. Her gaze penetrated the roars of the waves, too focused on them to recognize what she had said.
Chiori didn’t hesitate to answer. “Haven’t felt that in a while.” She joked, earning a soft laugh from the other girl. Her serious facet turned into a grin seeing what she had provoked. “This is not about me, Chev” the designer shortened the distance between their bodies, guiding her hand so that she could remove some purple hair strands that obstructed their eyes to meet and place them behind her neck. Her friend turned back, her lavender eyes admiring the brown-haired. “Who am I to judge?” She smiled.
The brief silence that touch created seemed to last hours for them. The brown haired acknowledged that and shyly moved her hand away, suddenly it wasn’t so cold anymore.
The captain, adrift in a sea of emotions, snapped back to reality as the other distanced herself. Embarrassing, she thought, you’re embarrassing. She bit her tongue as a punishment for admitting one of her deepest fears, however she couldn’t get herself to feel sorry for doing so. She liked the fact that Chiori would be there to listen to her.
She kept on, this time not evading the other’s attention locked on her. “This last case.” She said as she let out a breath. “It reminded me of my father.”
Chiori decided it was better to keep silent and let her vent. “Watching Morris’ terrified face as the gun came closer to him, the anger that Veronique detoned with just her eyes. You know what they say, if looks could kill…” her voice became more forceful, as if full of resentment. “He had been put in the same situation I was. The criminal was in between the wall and the sword. The head of Fontaine’s biggest mafia kneeled down asking for forgiveness; but he had never been a merciful man and so he did. He pulled the trigger.” the anger heightened in her voice.
The designer, still stunned by the impactful confession, reached to her friend’s hand. Gently putting hers above it, she offered some sense of comfort. She knew it wasn’t her time to speak, not that she found the right words anyway. Chevreuse had never opened about her past like this before, and Chiori wouldn’t let the opportunity go to waste due to some selfish desire to control the conversation.
“I convinced myself that sending both of them to the Fortress was the right thing to do.” Her voice softened once again when she felt Chiori’s touch. “Justice isn’t about vengeance. It is about making the guilty pay with the noble actions they couldn’t engage to commit before. Yet I wonder, if I chose the same path as my father to become a member of the Surveillance Patrol, what stopped me from pulling the trigger in Morris’ head?” Her jaw clenched, and her shoulders tensed, creating a rigid posture that spoke volumes even if she tried to hide it.
“I contemplated with my own eyes my father being judged on the Court for what he had done. The same man that left a family without its father, claiming to Monsieur Neuvillette how he could be so soulless.” Chevreuse, although she remained largely composed, seemed to have immersed herself in a fog of her own anger. How long had she kept this information to herself? The question sparked through the designer’s head. “He became a criminal, the same thing he promised to imprison. I know I’m not him; but there are moments where I wonder if that’s the destiny that awaits me or if it’s the one I desire. I know justice isn’t always right, so what side am I on? Is there even a correct one?”
Her voice trembled and broke as she spoke, revealing the depth of emotion she was trying to contain. This was a new facet of her, one that she had been ashamed of most of her life. Yet there she was, confessing everything on a cold night next to Fontaine’s coast that surely still contained the water of the tears she had dropped there as a child. She felt a squeeze on her hand and shifted her attention towards it. Chiori motivated her to keep going without emitting a sound.
For the first time, she felt understood.
“This place. I feel it connects me to him.” This time it was here who strengthened the contact of their hands. She needed reassurance. “Here is where he pushed me to clean his shotgun bathed in that man’s blood. I watched as the water took away every restrain of it just as he had taken his life. He had been bold enough to lay the gun on his head then shoot, then he put me to clean it to prove that I was strong enough to face the worst side of our world.” Chiori’s mouth dropped open at the revelation, finally closing the dots on why she had recurred to that spot. “Even if I try, I cannot get his picture off my mind. I try to avoid the thought of me becoming the same. I want to do the right thing for once.”
Her throat seemed to close up at that moment; she quickly released her friend's hand to cover her mouth simultaneously as her voice finished breaking entirely. She excused her gaze to the sand. From a few meters away, Chiori could observe that Chevreuse was battling against her crystallized eyes, and perhaps, against the shame that seeing her cry would bring.
Chiori had never seen her cry. She always assumed it was a consequence of the rigorous training and preparation the guards underwent, but the real reason seemed much harsher.
“Chevreuse.” Chiori, after a prolonged silence and the emotional intensity of Chevreuse's revelation, subtly redirected the conversation, realizing physical gestures would not be enough to convey the emotions they both felt. “You did the right thing. You defended what you stand for.” The captain recomposed her breathing speed as she spoke, recognizing she wasn’t alone. “Your will, your passion for what you do—it's something I've always respected. In a world where so many are swayed by their fear,, you remain true to yourself no matter the challenges you cross. It's a rare quality, and it hasn't gone unnoticed. Not for me.” Chiori gently cupped Chevreuse's face, her touch filled with care and understanding.
With a soft, reassuring motion, she delicately waited for a confirmation. Once Chevreuse turned back to her, silently telling her to proceed with a nod she removed her hand from her face, “As you said, you know justice isn’t always right but I would like to add that where it goes wrong, you’ll be there fighting amidst storms to make it right. It’s something I truly admire from you.” Every word she pronounced was born from the bottom of her heart, in which she held her in high esteem. She smiled at her, letting her know it was alright however the contrary was visibly fighting to keep a frozen expression.
“Am I allowed to cry?” She got to ask, gripping on Chiori’s hand.
Chiori was caught off guard with that question, but didn’t hesitate to respond “Of course you are.”
Upon receiving confirmation, Chevreuse finally let it all go. Every part of her heart that was once broken and obligated to be picked up for rebuilding, every tear she suppressed in fear that her father would punish her, every haunting memory in the middle of the night for years, all of it cascaded down with tears streaming through her reddish cheeks. Tenderly, Chiori would clean each tear from her face, erasing everything that had once caused her pain, or at least try her best to never let a bad memory cross her path again.
As the last tear rolled down Chevreuse's cheek, she took a deep breath, a fragile smile playing on her lips. The weight that had burdened her heart seemed to lift and turned into a comforting sensation.
In the quiet solitude of the beach, the moon cast a soft glow over them. They sat side by side, their hands entwined in a comforting grasp. The waves whispered a gentle melody, matching the rhythm of their breaths. “Thank you, Chiori.”
“You don’t have to.”
They found themselves drawn inexplicably closer, the subtle brush of their noses becoming an intimate connection, none of them could be able to explain how. Their breaths crossing one with another spoke louder than a million words.The cold air seemed to dissipate to create what felt like a ruthless fire.
“Chiori…” The designer felt her breath against the start of her neck, sending chills all over her body. She knew. She wanted it.
“I allow you.” She whispered, the closure made it easy for Chevreuse to hear.
The world seemed to fade into the background, the subtle breeze that played with their hair going unnoticed by both of them. Chevreuse leaned in and finally, their lips met in a passionate collision that served as an affirmation of the emotions they had kept unspoken.
At that moment, a new sensation bloomed in Chiori's chest. A natural warmth she had not found in any crowd, relied on Chevreuse’s gentle embrace.
Turns out, simplicity could contain more emotion than a hundred luxuries. That was a new discovery. A more valuable than any wealth.