Work Text:
The nascent sun is just barely beginning to crest the steep, slate blue rooftops of the Court of Fontaine, washing the early morning streets in pastel hues of rosy pink and buttercup yellow. The bakers have been toiling at their ovens for hours already, but now other shops in the Quartier Lyonnais are beginning to set up displays and open for business.
Kirara, arriving on the street with hot coffee and breakfast fresh from Café Lutèce, rises energetically onto her tippy-toes and peers curiously through the still-dark window of Chioriya Boutique, hoping to catch Chiori's eye. What she spies instead makes her heart sink.
Even from here, Kirara can see the normally immaculate show floor is strewn with a disorganized rainbow of fabrics, piles of strips of every clashing color and pattern under the sun. The display mannequins have been hacked to pieces. Some of the shelves have evidently been ransacked for accessories, with baskets overturned and buttons spilled over the counter – but the front door is firmly locked with no signs of forced entry, and Chiori hasn't violently defenestrated any intruders. The hat trees and flower pots arranged outdoors are entirely undisturbed.
Kirara’s twin tails curl as she fidgets. Chiori must have created this whirlwind herself as she cannibalized materials for a new design. It's not the first time the hunt for inspiration before a fashion show has driven Chiori into this state of single-minded focus. Kirara knows from experience that Chiori won't open shop today or answer her door at all. Her sweet surprise has been thoroughly scuppered.
But, but - what kind of mate would Kirara be if she turned tail and left her Chiori to starve? This calls for emergency measures!
POOF.
In a burst of verdant Dendro light, Kirara sheds her human body, and reverts to her more agile nekomata form. The little youkai arches her spine into a big, luxuriant stretch, paws kneading the cobblestones, before her tails lash with newfound determination. She grips the paper bag in her teeth, wiggles her rump, and springs with feline grace all the way to the top of the decorative pink awning, then onto the roof.
Little white paws pitter-patter across the roof tiles until she locates the skylight she's looking for, and nudges it open with her nose. She knows she's not supposed to, but she must, she must! Sharp eyes peer through the gloom, searching for her beloved.
She finds Chiori bent on hands and knees below, pencil tucked behind one ear and pins firmly gripped between her lips. Her dark hair is unstyled and tamed only with a simple kerchief. She's using a seam ripper on the hem of the dress she's disassembling, whilst Tamoto, her doll assistant, hovers nearby with Chiori's dual katana at the ready.
Kirara doesn't know anything about sewing. All she knows is that Chiori is so focused on her current fashion project, she won't eat or sleep until her deadline, and that simply will not do.
Kirara wriggles her way in through the small gap between window pane and roof, and leaps.
THUMP.
Chiori grunts in only mild surprise at the cat appearing out of thin air that suddenly crashes into her back. The number of times this has happened in the past has inured her to the shock. Claws instinctively latch into Chiori's shoulders for balance, and that's what galvanizes her to react. Chiori spits the pins to the floor in a clatter and stands, yanking Kirara by the scruff to dangle in front of her.
“Kirara, what have I told you about breaking in?” she scolds. Chiori narrows her weary, bloodshot eyes, and see, Kirara knew she didn't go to sleep last night! This is important! “The store was locked for a reason. I don't want to be interrupted.”
Kirara does her best to meow around the bag in her mouth, tails waving and pupils huge in animalistic excitement.
Tamoto shoots them both a judgmental side-eye before drifting languidly out of the room.
“I don't speak cat,” Chiori reminds her with a tired sigh. The corner of her mouth quirks in fond amusement. “What is this you've brought me? It better not be a dead mouse.”
POOF!
Kirara, grinning sheepishly, removes the damp bag from her human mouth and offers it with both hands to her beloved Chiori. She always brings nice gifts, like flowers or seashells or cool rocks! Even Granny hasn't gotten dead mice or finches on the porch since her tail split! So there!
“Special delivery, meow! Madeleines and a croissant! There's coffee too but I couldn't carry it that way, so I left it on the doorstep for you to find, meow!”
Chiori tries to maintain her stern disapproval, but the scent of freshly baked pastries reminds her empty stomach how hungry she really is. She accepts the offering and wordlessly sits cross-legged on the floor. Kirara hovers nearby, tails twisting into nervous knots as she awaits the verdict.
Ohh, Chiori isn't smiling.
(Well, that's normal for Chiori, but it makes it harder to tell if Kirara did good or not. It's not like she can ask for a star rating on her performance as a human's partner.
Can she?)
“...Well? You went to all the trouble of getting breakfast,” Chiori deadpans, patting the vacant space next to her. “You might as well join me. And fix your bow. It's lopsided again.”
Kirara beams.
Chiori makes a show of dramatically rolling her eyes, plucking the bow from her hair, and reaffixing it in the proper symmetrical position. She's always been finicky like that, stubborn about her standards, demanding perfection even behind closed doors where no one will ever see. Kirara knows Chiori well enough to appreciate the intention behind her criticism, just as Chiori sees the clumsy, misguided attempts Kirara makes to take care of her, and accepts them all the same.
Kirara flops down next to Chiori and rubs her cheek adoringly against her, purring like Fontaine's loudest clockwork engine.
Another successful delivery!
