Work Text:
April 3rd
A small ceramic mug clinked in an otherwise silent room. Papers shuffled, and a terminal turned on with a slight hum. Gray Raven Commandant Ayu sat on an office chair, scrolling intently through her schedule as she rested her hand on her chin, preventing some of her long, black hair from falling onto the desk.
“Every single day of April is packed...” she groaned. “Will I even have time to do this? I don’t want to skimp on another year...”
Her frown deepened the more dates she scrolled past until she stopped at May. A sharp huff of air expelled from her nose as she stared blankly at the schedule. She shook her head and tapped several cells with the least amount of work, typing in ‘WGAA joint operation w/ Task Force’ for each of them.
“That should be enough,” she smiled. “No one shall bat an eye with this on the schedule. I can do the rest at night when everyone should be resting. Handmade gifts are a treasure in this age of automation.” With something to finally look forward to, she kicked back in her seat and took a short nap.
May 2nd
“That concludes our monthly reports for the Punishing concentrations around the vulnerable Conservations Areas 004, 012, 045, and 093, any comments?” A young blond figure with pristinely gelled spiky hair peered around the gray, lifeless meeting room, waiting for an answer. He cleared his throat, bringing back the attention of some.
“Ah... yes,” a curly white-haired man sluggishly raised his hand and replied, “from the results of the last survey, the CPF in Area 004 is—”
Ayu stared at the clock while the voices slowly drifted away as she spaced out. It was only 2 PM, just an hour more until her first ‘WGAA joint operation’ commenced with Ayla. Her left leg was involuntarily shaking, and a soft blow to her head brought her back to reality. She yelped and turned around, meeting eyes with Celica, whose look shot daggers through her. “Please, pay attention!” Celica warned, gently smiling while her eyes showed otherwise.
May 5th
Lee walked down his usual route to reach his room which was coincidentally on the path to the Commandant’s. He saw the light of her ajar room once again past midnight. Curiosity got the best of him as he heard odd scrapings, and he never liked seeing her sleep-deprived. With the feathery steps formed from his assassin days, he peeked into the cracks and saw her hunched over the desk, carving a block of wood into something seemingly formless. The scratching of metal into the wood was grating to his auditory modules, and woodchips flew across the room as a cleaning robot struggled to keep up from end to end, sucking up each piece.
“At least it’s not work,” he thought. He smiled noncommittally and quietly headed back to his room close by.
May 6th
As if driven by instinct, Lee found himself checking up on the Commandant again the following night. It was 2 AM and he saw her in the same carving ritual as last night. But now, the wood block was shaping into a box and top. Before he walked away, he partially heard her mumble to herself about ‘trying to meet those lofty standards’.
May 9th
“She’s been at it for five nights straight, what’s the rush?” Lee thought, shaking his head as he stood at the foot of his Commandant’s door. “Who is she trying to impress?” Her room was closed this time, but the incessant scraping and occasional frenzied bashing were still all too audible. A small yelp was followed by the sound of thin metal scraps plummeting onto the hard flooring. The poor vacuum attempted to suck it up, grinding its gears and generating a steady tempo of harsh clacking, ticking, and screeching that would drown out any subsequent human cries. Lee fought the urge to barge in, scoop her over his shoulder, and force her to take a few nights off. But it’d be useless as once she has a plan in motion, there’s no clocking out until it’s done. He groaned and rubbed his temples, deciding not to snoop any longer.
May 11th
Lee was sitting on the lounge’s couch early in the morning while faint laughter from Lucia and Liv drifted into the room. The two girls were busy for the next couple of hours sorting out plants to place in a new prototypical hydroponic system for the Center of Ecological Research. Lee scrolled through the team’s schedules to double-check for any oddities as he had a few free minutes. Going through Ayu’s, it was obvious what the multiple ‘WGAA joint operation’ entries were and he ignored them, not wanting to predict what kind of mess she’d be in tonight.
He stopped at an unusually empty date, the only one in the entire month. “Why is only May 20th free?” His hand froze, remembering the special human holiday associated with that date. “It can’t be for that, right? ...That’s Kowloong Valentine’s Day.”
A small cloud of doubt formed in his mind. It was unreasonable to expect that she was doing this for him. After all, she never mentioned anything to his awareness. “Regardless of who she’s doing it for”, he thought, “I should do something to commemorate the holiday as usual... I’ll stop by the Eco Center and WGAA to gather more ideas later.” Begrudgingly accepting the worst outcome, he swiftly got up and headed out.
May 20th
Lee was relieved that the past week’s ground missions didn’t impede his top-secret plans. By noon, he returned to his room after routine maintenance on the team’s gear. He wondered when Ayu returned to hers to see the gift he placed right after she ran off for an hour from Ayla’s ‘emergency call’ of Hamlet going ‘haywire’.
Ayu happened to have a similar idea. However, Lee had no clue when she slinked her way in since he was dumbfounded to see two stacked boxes wrapped in white, tied together with a satin red ribbon in plain view on his tidy desk. He felt unusually relieved and immediately took a seat. He didn’t want to tarnish the perfect wrapping and slowly unfolded each crease without creating a single tear from the bigger box. The aroma of Spanish cedar seeped out the moment a corner of a hard wooden box was uncovered.
“Ah, she made an old-fashioned paper strip music box...” he thought. He carefully opened the lid, the hinges demonstrating slight resistance. The underside was adorned with a golden etched rose plated in gold and the box was hollowed out to fit a glass viewing case. Inside there were various gears, rollers, pins, and a comb.
Inside the smaller wrapped box laid an extremely long perforated strip of paper loosely rolled up. Strangely, there was no title. He carefully fed the paper into a thin slot in the front of the music box and steadily cranked the handle. The rotating gears pulled the paper inward and as each hole passed through the internal mechanism, a pin collided against the comb triggering a resounding note. More holes joined in succession to form a melody bursting intermittently, mimicking fiery spiccattos until smoothing out into a joyous, airy tune.
Upon recognizing the melody by the end, Lee immediately felt flush and all the countless art exhibitions and recitals he visited with Murray finally paid off. The gifter’s message was channeled through a maestro of the distant past and conveyed with a timeless work of art. “That was Kreisler’s Liebesfreud...” he said. “That means... you...”
Lee blinked hard and cleared his throat, instead turning his attention to the music box’s craftsmanship. As if he were the wood shop’s director conducting a final exam, he critically examined every inch. It was sanded into an incredibly smooth finish, completed with a vibrant red chestnut stain that brought out the cedar’s natural grain. Gleaming golden hinges supporting the delicate lid were perfectly molded and measured, creating a snug fit. Even fine felt pads were attached to the four corners underneath, giving lift and protection. No glaring flaws that the average human could discern or care about were present, rendering him speechless. He knew shouldn’t have been scrutinizing a handmade gift to such a degree in the first place. But it is because of all those painstaking all-nighters he witnessed that something extremely worthwhile must have come to fruition.
“...Why must you go through all this effort for me?” He gently closed the box, rolled up the paper strip, and let out a faint, self-deprecating chuckle before closing his eyes to gather his thoughts. He found himself fidgeting with the wrapping paper before setting it aside and turning on the terminal, opening up the contact list.
Ayu was sitting in her office chair, opening Lee’s unexpected gifts while reminiscing on the events that transpired from the crack of dawn. Hamlet conveniently malfunctioned from the newest whalesong detection algorithm Ayla ‘just happened’ to install and her round, pouty, pink eyes haunted the back of Ayu’s eyelids.
She folded her arms over her desk and alternately glanced between the mindscape model that intermittently sparked signals in its vivid starry ocean and the ecology box that contained a rare blue rosebud, housed in perfect humidity waiting to bloom. “What if it blooms when I’m away?" She mumbled in awe, "Or is there a trick to this he wants me to figure out...” The buzz of her terminal made her jump from the seat. It was an audio comms request from Lee.
“Hello, Lee?” she answered. The voice on the other end took a few seconds to reply.
“I... received your gift, Commandant,” Lee quietly uttered. “You recently stayed up late for this? ...Hm, I should've realized that when I saw your blank schedule earlier,” he continued, keeping the secret of watching her progress from afar. “And knowing that your recipient would actually be...
“No, never mind, thank you. I understand what your gift means... and I know what day it is. You should've received my gift by now.”
His voice started to pick up rapidly. “...Don't ask me when I started preparing it, nor why I'm sending this through comms even though your room is next door. You probably already know what I want to tell you. ...As no one understands me like you do.
"...That’s all. Sleep early today... alright?”
Ayu let out a small laugh, hearing the poorly concealed panic overtake Lee’s voice. “I want to hear what you want to say to me in person, Lee. And then I’ll tell you what I think about your gifts.”
“...What? Is this way not sufficient enough for you?”
“Like you said, you’re just in the next room over. So...” Her voice slowly heightened into a buzzing mosquito, luring Lee in for better or worse. “Please? You understood my gift, maybe I want some confirmation from yours...!”
“Uh, fine..." Lee said, near inaudible. "Only because you put so much work into this. Ahem, give me a moment.”
The comms abruptly shut off and Ayu dug her head into her folded arms on the desk, realizing what she had just done. Every tick of the clock rang in her ears, heightening her nerves. Why was he taking so long? The longer she waited, the more she wanted to ask herself if wanting him over was a grave mistake. Instead of leaving things up to a neverending back-and-forth play of personal interpretation, was it finally the right time for a concrete word? If she were in his position, would she have done the same thing hiding between audio waves?
A few minutes later swift knocks fell upon her door, interrupting the storm brewing in her mind. She opened it at a snail’s pace and concealed herself behind it, making the door look like it automatically opened.
“Hm. Having second thoughts now?” Lee calmly asked, folding his arms.
“Uh… urgh, the door feels a little heavy today!” she said, still pulling the door millimeter by millimeter. “Maybe it’s jammed a bit...!”
Lee tilted his head and peeked around the door, unamused, meeting face-to-face with Ayu’s widened gray eyes. She became a mouse cowering in the corner as the cat intently stared her down with an icy gaze that slowly morphed into worry.
Ayu quickly darted around and shut the door. She took a quick breath and turned around, leaning on the door to help regain composure.
“I’m sorry... I’m being too selfish,” she said peering down, “Yes... I changed my mind, don’t force yourself to say anything.”
“No... I should be the one apologizing. I agree something like this should be done in person.”
“Then, I’ll at least... make it easier on you.”
Before he knew it, Lee heard a quick shuffle and felt at ease, enveloped in a familiar warmth.
“You don’t have to look at me,” Ayu continued, muffled. “And we don’t have to say things as loudly. I want to hear what you mean and not guess for myself, and I'll do the same for you. Once is enough and then I can die in peace.” The grasp she had around him tightened. “This would be worth twenty times my pension and the title of ‘Chief’ or ‘Hero’. I would stake them all for you.”
Not knowing how to respond, Lee quietly patted her head, making her iron grip gradually loosen and her eyelids weighty. She inadvertently let out a yawn the warmer he got.
“...Out of all the times you want to sleep, you choose now?” he snorted.
Ayu let go and rolled her eyes. “You told me to sleep early today.”
“...Sorry. Okay, I’ll tell you right now… I mean it,” he faintly smiled.
“Really? This could always be our last holiday, so I didn’t want this one to go to waste!”
“You know it won’t be the last, I promise.” He began to frown as each missed opportunity from the years gone by piled up in his mind. “But... I’m sorry if I kept you waiting all the time. It was never my intention...”
“Don’t worry,” she smiled, “and I’m well aware... these things aren’t supposed to happen. So let’s keep it between us.”
“You’ve always been a weird commandant... and now I’m to blame too for taking part in it all.”
He slowly leaned in and whispered endearing words that only she would ever come to understand.