Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting faint rays of golden light across the dimming sky, a chilly wind swept over the Court of Fontaine, and the bustling metropolis began settling down for the night. Shops and market stalls that had been packed with customers in the day packed up their wares and shuttered their entrances, while scattered groups of finely-dressed men and women bid their farewells and hurried back to the warmth of their homes. 

On this evening, one figure stood out in particular: a young woman with long and unkempt violet hair, dressed in the bright red uniform of the Special Security and Surveillance Patrol, marching resolutely down the street in spite of the biting cold. Lieutenant Chevreuse Yvelines cursed under her breath for forgetting to bring a windbreaker, or at least an extra layer of clothing. “Should’ve known that tonight would’ve been like this, what with this damn wind blowing from Snezhnaya every night for the whole damn month,” she muttered with as low a voice as she could manage. 

Still, there was no time for complaints or regrets; she had a job to do and time was of the essence. She’d just received new intel regarding the location of Sinthe distribution centres, and she had to follow up on those leads before the criminals caught wind and fled. Yes, the Marechaussee Phantom was technically in charge of investigating cases like these, and yes, even if it was the Special Patrol’s problem, she could’ve sent her subordinates down to have a look. But screw procedure! Her platoon mates surely would understand her total commitment to stamping out the Sinthe menace once and for all — and to personally delivering justice to the doorstep of wrongdoers. Besides, being proactive would look good on her resumé, no?

So, that was why Chevreuse found herself in the winding streets of Quartier Lyonnais, shivering and trembling, trying her archon-damned best to find the address she’d hastily scribbled down on a scrap of paper. Why were the streets in this part of town such a maze? She could swear the city planners added a new alley every week… Her eyes stung and her nose itched, and— 

Achoo! With a momentary slip in concentration, the note slipped out of her hands and away into the night. The young officer, letting loose a string of profanities, immediately turned heel and gave chase, but the wind was just too fast. She racked her brain for the address that she’d been looking at moments ago, but it was no use either; a migraine was already starting to develop in her temples. Another explosive sneeze almost knocked the cap off her head.

Chevreuse heaved a heavy sigh of equal parts exhaustion and exasperation. No point pursuing this anymore, then. Better seek shelter before this blasted wind turns me into a popsicle…

And as fate would have it, shelter presented itself in the form of a single lonely establishment, just up ahead, whose lights were still on. Chevreuse, squinting against the tempest, determined that it was some kind of clothing boutique. Textiles of a myriad colours and patterns filled the space within, and a single silhouette stood in the middle, working on something or another. 

What kind of boutique would stay open at this time of the evening? Chevreuse shrugged the thought away as quickly as it had popped up; she was quickly losing the energy to entertain such questions. The warm, radiant lighting of the shop called out to her like a siren’s song, and she answered it as quickly as her legs could carry her. 

Bursting through the front door of the humble outlet, Chevreuse let out another sigh, this time of relief. She came to a stop in the doorway, one hand on the frame for support, trying to catch her breath and defrost simultaneously. And she would’ve stayed there for quite a while if it hadn’t been for someone clearing their throat gently. “Good evening, officer, how may I help you?” An accented female voice sounded out. Chevreuse raised her head, preparing to explain herself, and— Oh, Focalors.

Chevreuse felt her heart stop, and for a moment she worried that all that fried food had finally gotten to her. It certainly would’ve made sense if she’d just had a heart attack, died there and then and gone to heaven. How else could she have explained the angel standing before her? The being whose every fiber of existence screamed elegance and beauty? Pure aesthetic perfection, condensed into the shape of a woman giving her a half-concerned, half-judgemental look? 

And oh goodness, that gaze was something else entirely. The way those eyes, red like crispy apples, like sparkling rubies, like the deepest crimson hues of the sunset… The way they pierced straight through Chevreuse and into the very depths of her soul, it set her heart on fire, simply put. And the chestnut-brown hair with streaks of gold dye, done in a mind-bogglingly elaborate style furnished with a helix-shaped side ponytail; the slender hourglass figure adorned with flowing fabrics and intricate designs; the long sleek legs that glistened with the lustre of black silk tights…

Chevreuse never knew that she had a type, but apparently this was her type. All her boxes were being ticked. All thoughts of professionalism had flown out the window long ago. She couldn’t even care anymore if she was actually dead or not, since evidently all the gods had smiled down on her and given her this divine blessing…

“...Are you alright? You’ve been staring for a while now,” the voice called out again. Chevreuse almost fell over from the shock of being pulled back down to earth. She opened her mouth, about to say something vaguely affirmative, but was cut short by a lace-gloved hand reaching out to cup her chin, sending tingles down her skin from where they made contact. Instead, she opted for an apprehensive but cordial smile, which devolved rapidly into a silly grin under the continuous pressure applied by the angel’s hand.

Scrutinising the intruder’s rapidly deteriorating composure, the angel’s brows furrowed. “No, definitely not. You don’t seem to be having a very good time. Plus, your hair’s a proper mess. You know what, come inside, don’t just stand here freezing your ass off.” The hand moved downwards to take Chevreuse’s own hand, gripping it with a firm yet tender grasp. She complied robotically, letting herself be dragged into the cozy interior of the store. The angel mentioned something about getting something for her, but Chevreuse could only hear the thumping of her racing heart, and her own impure thoughts on how soft the angel’s palm was, and how much she liked it when the angel talked to her sternly like that, and how much she’d like to disrobe her and just… go for it…

Her little daydream was interrupted quite abruptly when she was dropped unceremoniously onto a couch and a hefty fur-lined cloak was draped over her shoulders. Warmth seeped slowly back into her bones, and Chevreuse regained her wits ever so gradually, now that the figure monopolising her attention had moved somewhere out of sight. 

She took note of her surroundings in a half-daze: racks of clothing arranged in tidy rows like a vineyard, suits and dresses put up for display on mannequins that were lined up against the wall, and in the centre of the back of the room, a plain wooden desk (at least compared to the kaleidoscope of the rest of the room) which was strewn all over with bolts of fabric, spools of thread and sheets of paper, some crumpled into balls. In a way, the desk reminded her of her own bed back at home; an island of chaos within a sea of order. 

The angel appeared from a flight of stairs Chevreuse hadn’t noticed, startling her briefly. “Feeling better? Have some tea, it’ll help you warm up. I just brewed some for myself anyway,” she said, placing a cup of something sweet-smelling into the shivering officer’s trembling hands. 

Chevreuse accepted the cup without question, raised it to her lips, and took a small sip with great trepidation. Expecting to be scalded, she instead found it was pleasantly warm, perhaps even just right in temperature. She didn’t even know that there was such a thing as an ideal temperature for tea. Trying her best to bring down her heartrate, she took a deep breath in. The tea had the familiar fragrance of chamomile, but also carried hints of sweet, grassy Inazuma green tea. Was it Inazuma green tea? She’d never tried it before. She decided it was quite good; maybe she’d find the chance to try it in the future. And it really was helping to calm the nerves she got from being in her presence.

The mysterious figure who had found her at the door and brought her some quite-good tea now took a seat across from her guest, a cup of her own tea in hand. “Is it to your liking? It’s a special blend I had imported from the teasmiths in Chenyu Vale,” she asked. Her face was unsmiling, but her words were filled with sincerity and compassion. 

Chevreuse snapped to attention as though she was back in cadet school. She scrambled to put together a response. “Yes yes, it’s fantastic! Thank you so so much, miss— uh, ma’am—” The junior officer abruptly realised that she didn’t know the name of her benefactor, nor the name of the shop she had barged into so mindlessly. 

As if reading her mind, the shop owner supplied both answers that Chevreuse had been looking for: “Chiori, of Chioriya Boutique.” A look of realisation dawned over the gardeswoman’s face, to which she added, “Yes, the same Chiori from this year’s Fashion Week. And it’s no problem, I just did what I felt I had to.”

So all the rumours were true, Chevreuse remarked to herself. She wasn’t one to keep up with gossip, but she’d still caught wind of the enigmatic figure who’d appeared in the City of the Arts out of the blue and taken the fashion world by storm. With unorthodox styles that emanated brazen confidence, she’d stolen the thunder of every other designer at Fashion Week, and captivated the hearts and minds of the audience and press alike. The one responsible for this upheaval had dodged the prying questions of the journalists, but they still managed to paint a picture of a character just as outstanding as her work: bold, direct, headstrong, and as striking as a bolt of lightning. The Thundering Seamstress, they had taken to calling her. 

Now Chevreuse was sitting face-to-face with the name that had taken over the headlines of every paper in the Court, and everything she’d read failed to do justice to the actual person. She was overwhelmed by the aura of self-assured confidence this woman exuded. It was everything, from the way she held her back straight and head high as she sat, to her eyes which shined with mystique and danger, as if daring any worthy soul to come out and challenge her. It was an intoxicating aura to drink in. It had Chevreuse on the edge of her seat. She wanted to drown in it.

Chiori shifted subtly to face Chevreuse. “So, officer, what brings you to my humble boutique this very chilly evening? Hope I haven’t landed in any trouble, I’ve got lots of work tonight,” she remarked flatly, as if merely commenting on the weather. 

But this simple question was enough to shift the Special Patrol officer back into work mode. She reminded herself of two facts: that she still had a Sinthe smuggling operation to bust, and that as unlikely as it might be, the tailor who was still patiently waiting for her answer might be connected to the criminals she was pursuing. Criminals who must not be alerted to her presence no matter what. Unfortunately, it looked like she might have to tell a little white lie to perhaps the most beautiful (and kind-hearted) woman she’d ever met. Although she had no qualms with lying in and of itself, she hated the feeling of betraying the trust of her saviour. But for the sake of confidentiality, so be it.

“Ah, nothing to worry about, just a routine inspection of the establishments on this street!” was what she managed to come up with. It was quite frankly bullshit. It was plain to see that she belonged to the Special Patrol, and any good citizen of Fontaine knew that the Special Patrol didn’t do things as mundane as health and safety code checkups. And it certainly didn’t excuse the way Chevreuse had been looking at the fashion designer. Looking wasn’t right, it was more like having a face-to-face encounter with the Seven. She was surprised she was even able to find her jaw from where she’d dropped it. Her heart rate began to rise again, though for an entirely different reason than before. 

Despite Chevreuse’s worst fears, however, Chiori merely pursed her lips in amusement. “Hmm, I see,” she uttered. “Do you need me to show you my papers, then? I can assure you that everything’s in order, no issues here.”

Suddenly, something about the gleam in her eyes shifted, making Chevreuse’s breath hitch. “Or, perhaps, would you mind explaining why you came to conduct an inspection at a time when you would’ve expected most shops, including mine, to have closed up long ago? Especially on a night like this, when nobody has any interest in being outside longer than they have to?” 

The foreign seamstress leaned in close, so close that she could see every fleck of detail in her scarlet irises. She felt like a bug under the microscope, and that razor-sharp glare was a scalpel ready to cut apart her flimsy excuses and expose her as a good-for-nothing sinner.

“Uh, no, um— It’s not like—”

“Don’t take me for a fool, officer, even if I’m new here. I could see from the way you entered that coming here was not at all planned on your part. You didn’t even know the name of the store you decided to take shelter in, did you~?” 

Chevreuse tried to swallow but almost choked from the dryness in her throat. It was true, and it was honestly scary how perceptive this woman was. Scary, but also absolutely thrilling, for someone who was used to acting as the long arm of the law, but now found herself backed into a corner like a common criminal. She cursed internally over and over again. She was supposed to be able to handle any kind of person, no matter how intimidating or how untalkative. She could even make the biggest, toughest thugs back down with words alone. So why was it that she folded like paper in front of her?

“I thought not.” The seamstress leaned back, letting the slightest hint of a smile form on her lips. “You’re a terrible liar, you know. But I must admit, it’s kind of charming, really. You trying to bluff me, but also you stumbling into my shop, looking for refuge like a lost child,” she said, taking a dignified sip of her tea. “I quite enjoyed taking care of you too.”

Chevreuse shifted nervously in her seat, her heart racing a mile a minute and her mind keeping pace. It hadn’t been her best fib, sure, but she was still feeling a million different ways about having been read like an open book. It wasn’t just the fact that such a thing shouldn’t ever have happened to the rising star of Fontaine’s elite law enforcement task force, either. 

Would Chiori be able to tell how she felt about being called ‘charming’, even if indirectly? Would she know how much her heart fluttered when she heard that last line? Would she be able to comprehend even a fraction of how much she wanted to get to know her better, in every way possible? And most importantly, did the Thundering Seamstress feel the same way? 

Her one uncovered eye stared deep into Chiori's two crimson irises, hoping to catch any information that could be gleaned from the way they looked back, anything that could indicate what was on the tailor’s mind. The endless possibilities encapsulated in that gaze threatened to swallow Chevreuse whole. 

Suddenly, she found that she had to get going, get out of here. To continue pursuing her quarry or just to get back home, it didn’t matter. Anything to get away from her feelings, from the implications, from the magnetic pull of desire acting on every atom in her body. Chevreuse could see the fire burning in Chiori’s eyes, and feel that its heat matched the flame in her own heart. Instinct told her that she had to get out before the inferno consumed them both, even if it meant diving back into the frigid windstorm outside. It’s for the best, she told herself.

Chevreuse downed the rest of her tea in one go and rose from her seat, the mantle on her shoulders falling to the floor in the process. “I’m sorry, miss Chiori, I have to go. I can’t be staying for long,” she muttered, her voice tinged with regret.

“That’s alright. I understand that you’ve got work to do, just as I have mine,” Chiori acknowledged. If she was disappointed, she didn’t let it show through her words or her expression. “But, before you go, at least tell me your name. Just as a little courtesy.”

Chevreuse thought for a moment of coming up with some kind of pseudonym, but immediately she realised that it would’ve been pointless, especially with the way the captivating foreigner was watching her so intensely, not unlike a cat stalking its prey. So, she told her truthfully and sincerely.

“Well, officer Chevreuse, good luck with whatever it is that you’re doing, and stay safe out there. And if you do swing by again, I’ve got a bottle of lovely red wine that we can have a nice chat over, so see you soon~”

“Same to you, miss Chiori. Take care, and… thank you.”

Approaching the boutique’s door, Chevreuse steeled herself and pushed it open. As she stepped back out into the wind-swept streets, out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw the seamstress with a wistful smile on her face. But when she blinked, Chiori had already turned around to clean up the teacups. She shook her head and let out her third sigh of the evening. Time to head home and… have a long, hard think.

(The next day, at the Special Surveillance and Security Patrol headquarters)

Vice Captain Grizzetti was surprised to find Lieutenant Chevreuse gazing out the window, deep in thought about something, instead of busying herself with her paperwork. As much as he didn’t want to disturb his understudy, he still had a burning question to ask her.

“Hey Chevy, did you learn anything from your little impromptu investigation last evening? You left in such a rush that I thought you’d come back with the syndicate’s ringleader in cuffs!”

Chevreuse turned around to face the source of the disturbance. “Uncle Grizzetti? Oh— uh, no, I didn’t find anything about the Sinthe distribution centres. But I did find something better though…”

“Hmm? Do tell…”

“Oh, it’s not relevant to the case. Nothing important.” Chevreuse turned back to the window, partly to signal to Grizzetti to change the topic, and partly to hide the expression on her face from him.

It’s for the best, it’s for the best…

Chapter Text

Truthfully, Chiori didn’t know what to expect when she decided to leave everything she had ever known behind and strike out in a foreign land. Perhaps her novel ideas would be embraced by the Court of Fontaine, or perhaps she would be ridiculed and dismissed just like in the Thundering Isles. But what she certainly couldn’t have foreseen was that the people of this nation could be so. Goddamn. Infuriating.

“Chiori! When is my order going to be ready? I need it on the double!”

“Chiori! I paid a premium for that Liyue silk, why did you substitute it?”

“Chiori! Your material rips far too easily, look at it! You’d better fix it now!”

Every single one of these Fontainians, all self-centred, entitled, spoilt brats. It was as if being an arrogant snob was a requirement for citizenship in the Court, and sneering derisively at all things inferior was considered ‘high culture’ in the Nation of Justice. At least they had manners back in Inazuma, and knew how to respect people, even if the way they went about doing it was far too pretentious for Chiori’s liking.

Like clockwork, Chiori’s hand went up to pinch the bridge of her nose. The more she listened to the complaints, grievances and general griping, the greater the angry knot of frustration in her head grew. She wondered why she’d even come here just to subject herself to petty fools who didn’t have the words ‘patience’ or ‘graciousness’ in their dictionaries. But then, she remembered the obstinate, outdated fools that she had called ‘sensei’s, those who refused to give support to her creativity and had driven her to come here in the first place. That’s the meaning of being stuck between a rock and a hard place, she supposed.

Chiori, of course, had answers for every one of her customers’ demands. Monsieur Montbazon’s order would be ready as soon as the custom-made buttons were delivered. Madame Lenoncourt’s pure Liyue silk had to be replaced with nylon silk because it would be too delicate for the requirements of the dress’s construction. Sir Bonacieux… should have been more careful with his shirt, he must’ve gotten into a duel at some point, something which absolutely wasn’t the fault of her or her craftsmanship. 

But Chiori wouldn’t have told them these things, even if the customers were the source of her livelihood and the foundation of her reputation, which they in fact were. Because if there was something that ticked her off more than anything, it was having to waste her breath on explanations that she knew would go in one ear and right out the other. Such… insolent people weren’t deserving of explanations anyway.

“Boss? What are you standing there for? I can’t hold all of them off, you know… They’re looking for you, and they’re getting quite insistent…”

That was her shop assistant, Eloffe. Bless her heart, she was loyal to a fault and currently trying her best to appease the horde of customers that had come pouring in as soon as the doors were open. But ultimately, she was too much of an appeaser. She didn’t know how to deal with the sorts who would take a mile if given an inch.

Chiori wasn’t in the mood to deal with the customers either. She’d only just woken up, washed up and done up her hair. She hadn’t even had the chance to take a single sip of the coffee she’d brought downstairs. And now there was this bunch of inconsequential people shouting about inconsequential things in her shop… 

She’d have to tell Eloffe sometime that the boutique should be opened only when she was seated and ready for work. But for now, she had to do something before something drastic happened, and in her mind, there was only one logical course of action to take.

“Eloffe, pack everything up, close the store. And all of you, get out now, before I make you. I will not be entertaining any more requests if you lot refuse to have some basic courtesy.”

“What?! How could you—!”

“Do you know how long I queued—”

“But boss, what about—”

“You’re getting paid leave for the rest of the day. Be a dear and shoo them out of here, would you?”

Without so much as looking back to check if Eloffe did as she said, Chiori marched right out of the store. The coffee could go cold for all she cared. After a terrible start to the day, she wanted nothing more than to be alone with her thoughts, and she happened to have recently discovered a secluded spot with a nice view overlooking the Terrestrial Sea. So, that was where she would go.

Chiori had barely gotten off the street which her boutique (and second-floor apartment) was on, and onto the main boulevard, when she came across an unusual sight. 

An entire platoon of Gardes had surrounded a nondescript three-storey building, positioning themselves tactically to block off all possible entrances and exits. But these Gardes were wearing a distinctive scarlet uniform instead of the typical navy blue garb, and they were each equipped with either a musket or a pistol, in their hands or slung over their shoulders. The hushed chatter of the bystanders gathered around affirmed to Chiori that this was the Special Surveillance and Security Patrol, the best of the best of the Maison Gardenniage, in action on the field; a rare sight indeed.

As Chiori came to a stop and joined the crowd, the leader of the platoon stepped forwards. Addressing the building’s facade, she issued an order with a loud and authoritative voice. “Citizen Rohan Chabot, you are hereby under arrest for organised criminal activities, including the production and distribution of dangerous substances, and for failure to respond to court summons! Surrender yourself and your accomplices immediately, or under the authority granted by the Palais Mermonia, we will forcibly gain entry to these premises!”

After a brief delay, a reply came from a window on the top floor: “You’ll never catch us, pigs! We’ve got more men than you’ve got bullets! The Hounds of Canossa will never submit!”

The commander gave a hand signal to a team of Special Patrol members stationed next to the front door before continuing with her orders. “Citizen Chabot, if you do not comply immediately, you will be additionally charged with resisting arrest when you are brought to trial! This is your final warning!”

“Come and get us, if you dare!”

With that, the squad that received the signal leapt into action with swift and decisive motions. The lead smashed the lock on the door with the butt of his musket, busting it wide open. Then, the squad advanced into the building in a single file, with each member covering each other’s blind spots with their line of fire. It didn’t take long for the sound of a firefight to echo out from within.

As Chiori watched things play out from the sidelines, she found that her attention kept drifting towards the platoon’s commander, who was busy giving out a slew of instructions to the remaining personnel. A thought wormed its way into her head: Doesn’t that violet hair look… awfully familiar?

Said violet hair was tied in a tight bun instead of a loose and messy ponytail that reached waist-length, but Chiori felt almost certain that this was the same person who’d stumbled into her boutique that day about a month ago… and folded the moment she made eye contact with her. Chevreuse, Chiori recalled, was her name. So this was what she looked like while at work.

It was incredibly hard to believe that the woman calling the shots in the middle of it all, carrying the confidence and conviction of a bona-fide big shot, was in fact one and the same as the trembling mess of a girl from that evening. But the closer she looked, the more her suspicions couldn’t be denied — it was her alright.

Meanwhile, away from the centre of commotion, a ground floor window of the building next door swung open. A gruff-looking man vaulted through it, landing on the sidewalk with a tumble. As he was about to get back on his feet, he suddenly found himself staring down the barrel of a pistol aimed straight and true between his eyes.

“Don’t think for a moment that you can get away like that. Citizen Chabot, you are under arrest. Hands in the air,” Chevreuse uttered, not a shred of compassion in her voice. 

From what Chiori could gather, she’d somehow foreseen exactly how the man (who was apparently the gang’s leader) would escape, and laid a trap for him to fall right into. Chiori found herself quite impressed with the whole sequence of events; it was like a perfectly orchestrated play, with not a single step out of place. Certainly far better than whatever the Tenryou Commission could’ve managed.

As the two Patrolmen behind Chevreuse stepped forwards to subdue the gangster, she kept her pistol trained on him, and only let it drop once she heard the click of the handcuffs locking in place. After offering a few words of praise to her subordinates for a job well done, Chevreuse turned around to attend to other matters — and that was when she caught sight of the Thundering Seamstress amidst the crowd.

From Chiori’s perspective, it was almost comical how quickly Chevreuse’s facade of professionalism crumbled away. First, a flash of recognition lit up her eye, and she froze in place mid-stride, her hand still halfway through putting her pistol back into its holster. Then, her confident stance dissipated, and she shrunk inwards, as if she was trying to wrap herself in a cocoon to avoid getting spotted. Chiori could tell from the panic showing not-so-subtly on her face that running into the fashion designer had been the last thing on her mind — and despite all her training, she was at a complete loss as to what to do.

Just as Chiori thought that Chevreuse might be stuck there forever, the prescence of the crowd of bystanders gathered around her registered in her mind. She quickly straightened back up and turned away before anyone could see her face turning the same colour as her uniform. 

Chiori felt inexplicably curious about the whole affair. Could the sight of one person really cause such an instantaneous and extreme reaction?

“Officer Chevreuse? Is that you?” Against her better judgement, she had stepped forward and approached the embarassed officer.

At the sound of the familiar voice, Chevreuse hesitantly turned back around. “Oh—um, hello, Chiori. Long time no see, amirite?” The authority in her voice had completely evaporated, leaving behind the timidness that Chiori knew better, and the awkward grin she gave mirrored the one she had when Chiori first found her standing in her boutique’s doorway.

“Long time no see indeed.” It was painfully obvious to the seamstress that she was trying to play it cool in front of her, but failing spectacularly. Still, she put on a polite smile, hoping to make the officer feel more at ease.

“Uhh… So what brings you here?” Chevreuse laughed nervously.

“Just passing by, like everyone else,” Chiori replied curtly. “I see you’ve been busy?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“So what’ve you been up to, exactly? Hopefully not recklessly exposing yourself to the elements again?”

The tension in Chevreuse’s posture finally gave way, as Chiori’s quip teased a light chuckle out of her. “Well, thankfully not, otherwise I probably wouldn’t be here today,” she answered. 

“But if you really wanna know, in the past two weeks, we’ve successfully put a stop to the operations and arrested the leaders of three of the most prolific Sinthe cartels in the nation, including this one here. With these groups neutralised, we should expect to see the supply of Sinthe in circulation dry up very soon.”

“I see… Impressive work you did back there, by the way. I was quite intrigued by the way you managed to catch that gangster the moment he appeared.” 

Chevreuse opened her mouth, about to say something, but then took a quick glance back at the ongoing action behind her and closed it back up. “Thanks, but I’ve got to get back to work. I shouldn’t be making idle chit-chat… not while my men are still in there,” she said after a brief moment of consideration.

“Chevreuse, if you don’t want to talk to me, you should’ve just said so, you know? No hard feelings involved. But you keep on trying to use some work-related excuse to slip away whenever I try to have a chat with you. It’s not a nice thing to do, you know…”

“I— it’s not—” Chevreuse knew she’d been caught red-handed, and she turned away in a futile attempt to hide her guilt. As she stumbled over apologetic-sounding words, Chiori took the time to savour the flustered expression on her face. Although she hadn't a clue why, seeing the stoic and disciplined officer melt like butter in a pan tugged at her heartstrings like nothing else. And the strangest part was, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to have said that to Chevreuse. Maybe Eloffe was right — there was a bit of a sadistic streak inside her. 

Still, Chiori had no regrets over teasing the young officer for all that she was worth, because her reaction was undeniably priceless. It reaffirmed the conclusion Chiori had come to that evening in the boutique, while she was clearing the teacups — the way she crumbled under the pressure she put on her was so mystifyingly endearing. Speaking of that evening, though…

“That reminds me: I did say that we could have a chat over a bottle of wine next time we meet, didn’t I?”

“…Sorry, what?” Chevreuse, who was still recovering from the tease, spluttered out.

“How about it, then? Swing by my place once you’re done with this?”

“Oh, about that, uh…” Chevreuse took a deep breath in, trying to collect her thoughts.

“Sorry, I’d like to, but I’ve really got a lot to do today. We’ve still got to conduct a thorough search of the building and seize all the relevant evidence. And once we’ve wrapped up here, I have to do the paperwork to get all these guys into holding cells, and arrange for their trials…”

Chiori nodded sympathetically. Truly, nobody could escape the clutches of Fontainian bureaucracy. But she didn’t intend on letting her go just because of her unfortunate workload. 

“Ah… how about lunch, then? Would you be free for lunch? My treat, of course.”

“…Actually, you know what, that’ll be fine with me. I’ll join you for lunch, I can make some time.”

Chiori was a little surprised by how quickly Chevreuse changed her tune. But in any case, this was something to be celebrated. It meant that she now had the chance to sit down and have a chat in earnest with her, which was just what Chiori had originally hoped to achieve with the wine. She didn’t intend it to be anything more than a casual get-together, but she was just hoping that Chevreuse would open up more and stop being such a nervous wreck if her mind wasn’t on work-related matters. A bold assumption to make, but a worthy gamble nonetheless.

Now, to settle the details. “Alright, thank you for agreeing. How does Hotel Debord at half past twelve sound?”

“Actually… could we go with Café Lutece instead? There’s really no need to break the bank for this, and — how do I put this — I’ve been eyeing something on their menu lately…” Chevreuse asked as she twisted her fingers together.

“Okay then, we’ll go with your choice. I’ll let you get back to business now, see you later.” Satisfied with the outcome, Chiori promptly turned on her heel and departed, leaving behind a very confused Chevreuse.

As she walked away from the scene, Chiori pondered about what to do until lunchtime. She wasn’t feeling so stressed anymore, so she didn’t need to go to her secret spot to unwind anymore, but the idea of going back to the boutique didn’t sit right with her either. So, she would go take a walk around the city and find some inspiration for her designs. No need to overthink things, really.

One good thing about Fontaine, Chiori reckoned, was that the ideas seemed to flow endlessly here. No matter how many times she travelled the same old streets, there was always something novel and interesting to discover, which she could absorb the aesthetics from and convert into new outfits for next season’s catalogue. And she didn’t just have to draw inspiration from the colours and patterns around her either; even the rhythm of water splashing in the fountain, or the poise of a Snow-Winged Goose spreading its wings, would suffice to plant the seed of an idea in her imagination, which would sprout and grow as she crossed the city and its environs, and blossom into the most unique and splendid dresses and suits.

To Chiori, anything and everything could be the source of her next great work, and unlike static, unchanging Inazuma, there were so many more interesting things in Fontaine, and every day brought with it something new. Chiori felt like her creativity could run truly wild and free in the Nation of Hydro.

As Chiori was sizing up the Steambird building from afar, pondering how she could translate its proportions onto a tailcoat she had in mind, she absentmindedly glanced down at her mechanical wristwatch. 12:29? She’d gotten so carried away with her idea-hunting that she’d almost forgotten about the lunch appointment! Luckily, Café Lutece wasn’t too far from the Steambird. Thanking the archons for Fontainian clockwork, and shaking the tailcoat out of her mind, she hurried over to the café.

To her mild surprise, Chevreuse was already waiting for her outside, standing at attention and trying her best to look presentable. And yet, upon closer inspection, she looked anything but presentable. Her hair was still held in place by the big bun she’d tied in the back. But in the front, it looked like a bird’s nest, with uncombed strands sticking out in random directions. Her uniform was similarly disheveled, bearing the telltale signs of a stressful day at work. Not even her posture could be excused: her fingers were criss-crossing with each other in a fit of anxiety, and her gaze was wandering all over the floor, seemingly unaware of Chiori who was coming her way.

Chiori replaced the amused smirk that’d inadvertently formed on her face with her usual neutral expression. “Afternoon, officer,” she greeted. 

Chevreuse jumped a little upon hearing Chiori’s voice, but quickly composed herself and unfolded her hands from behind her back. “Afternoon, Chiori. How’s it been going?”

“Quite alright, thank you. I didn’t expect that you would arrive before me, actually. You’re the one that’s swamped with work, after all…”

Hmm, she’s gotten a lot better at acting natural. Certainly better than whatever that was in the morning , Chiori thought. Still could use some work in the presentation department, though…

Instinctively, she reached a hand out to brush away a stray lock of hair dangling in front of Chevreuse’s eye.

“…but being busy doesn’t mean that you can’t spare some time to take care of your own appearance. Seriously, how can you walk around with all that hair in your face?”

“I— I don’t think it’s a problem, honestly. I mean, I’ve gotten by just fine all this time, haven’t I?”

“Goodness, go to a hair salon and get a proper haircut. And straighten out that uniform of yours, surely you of all people would know the importance of looking sharp,” Chiori tutted as she continued to sweep the bangs away from Chevreuse’s forehead.

“That aside, thank you for making the time to join me. Let’s not tarry any further and head in, shall we?”

Chevreuse couldn’t reply, because she was already turning redder than an Armored Crab’s shell.

A moment later, the two of them were at the counter, straining their necks to read the menu mounted overhead. Fortunately, it was a slow day at the café, so the queue was short and the free seats were in abundance.

The manager, Arouet, lit up upon recognising Chevreuse. “Welcome to Café Lutece, ma’am, good to see you as always. What can I get for you — and your friend — today?”

Chevreuse, it seemed, already had her order ready to go. “Hey Arouet, give me the Super Snacking Selection Platter. I’ll be having it the usual way!”

“Of course, ma’am, extra deep-fried as always. And what dipping sauce would you like to go with that? We have tartar, ranch, ketchup, mayonnaise, bulle fruit…”

“Hmm… How about one of each? And add on a bottle of Fonta.”

“Going all-out today, are we? Alright, coming right up!”

Chiori, who had disbelief written all over her face, turned towards Chevreuse. “The Super Snacking Selection Platter? Isn’t that the one with all the fried food? The fries, the chips, the sliders, the onion rings, the waffle fries… And with all the sauces? That’s the one you’ve been eyeing?”

“Well— uh, yeah, that’s the one. I’ve wanted to give it a try ever since my guys told me about it… no, I’ve practically been dying to have a taste.” 

Chevreuse’s eye suddenly flicked towards the menu, and she put a hand up to her mouth. “Oh, right, it might be a bit on the expensive side. But I’ll pay for myself, no need to worry, miss.”

“No no no, I wouldn’t mind footing the bill for you, it’s just that…” Chiori’s brows furrowed. “Isn’t this ridiculouslyunhealthy?”

“Probably? I’m very strict with my exercise though, so it’s not like I’m gonna put on weight so easily.”

“You…” Chiori groaned with a roll of her eyes. “Alright, fine, since it’s my treat. But you shouldn’t be eating this all the time, okay?”

“Well, I couldn’t possibly be eating this all the time, I don’t come here everyday.”

“Oh? And what about the other—”

“If we’re talking about fried food in general though, I do eat Feast-Os every day. Just not from this place, and just as a mid-work snack.”

Chiori planted her open palm into her forehead.

“And what would your friend like to have?” interjected the manager out of nowhere.

“…one Trout Amandine, and one large espresso, no cream, no sugar.”

“Got it. Please be seated, ladies, and your food will be with you shortly.” Arouet bowed as he wrote down their orders.

“And all the best to you, ma’am,” he added, looking directly at Chevreuse.

The two women headed to the outdoor seating area, Chiori with her cup of coffee in hand. As they settled into the metal chairs, Chevreuse asked, “A large espresso? Isn’t that a lot of caffeine? And also… I thought you were a tea person?”

“I might drink tea to relax, but I drink coffee to survive. Thanks to the work I have to do to make a whole collection of original designs every time a new season rolls around, and to keep up with the customers’ requests, I often have to stay up late for many, many nights in a row,” Chiori explained as she stirred the coffee half-heartedly. 

“You wouldn’t believe what some of these people are asking for either, it’s like they think I’m omnipotent… Trust me on this, I need my coffee to be extra strong and extra bitter, it’s the only way to deal with this nonsense.” 

“…Fair enough. I understand where you’re coming from.”

“Besides, you’re one to judge other people for their choice of diet. What do you mean you eat Feast-Os everyday? How can that be any good for you?”

Chevreuse had nothing to say except for a quiet “sorry”.

Chiori took a long sip of her espresso, smacking her lips upon finding it satisfactory. “…So, are you a frequent customer here? I noticed the manager’s quite familiar with you and your… culinary habits.”

“Not really? I usually only come here on Fridays or special days. My regular lunch spot is closer to the Special Patrol headquarters.”

“Oh, so today is a special day?”

“Well, I guess so… I mean, here I am, having a casual lunch with the legendary Thundering Seamstress…”

“If I am really as ‘legendary’ as you say, then your praise is greatly appreciated,” the Thundering Seamstress stated. “However, I get the feeling that there’s something else you mean by that?

Chevreuse almost choked on her Fonta.

She was saved from having to explain herself by the food arriving in the nick of time. The tantalising aroma of the trout and the fries silenced any lingering thoughts either of them still had, so without another word they both dug in.

After a few mouthfuls of golden-brown waffle fries, Chevreuse spoke up again. “This stuff is fantastic, man! Just the right amount of crispy, and seasoned to perfection. You want some, miss Chiori?” The anxiety that was previously evident all over her body language seemed to have completely evaporated.

“No thank you. I’d like to keep my palate clean. Also, no need to be so formal, just ‘Chiori’ is fine,” the seamstress replied, blowing gently on a hot forkful of fish.

“Oh, okay. Anyway, thanks for the treat, and for entertaining my silly little request. I’m a little surprised, actually, that you didn’t mind the suggestion of coming here instead of Hotel Debord. I mean, wouldn’t you take offense if someone proposed a cheaper place than what you initially put forward, when you’re the one hosting? I know most people would! …Sorry if you did though,” Chevreuse laughed, scratching the back of her head.

Chiori paused mid-bite. Something inside her had stirred when she heard Chevreuse’s laugh. It wasn’t a very unusual laugh, nothing too loud or too quiet. She just thought, for a moment, that it sounded quite pleasant, like the texture of her mother’s kimono, or the glow of fireworks in the sky. But she very quickly chased that thought away.

“No offense taken. Honestly, I couldn’t care less about trivialities like ‘etiquette’ and such, it’s too cumbersome to me,” Chiori elaborated as she chewed. The trout was alright, and the almond flavour was interesting, but it was nothing compared to grilled sweetfish from Uyuu Restaurant. 

“Besides, I’ve never actually eaten here before, which is why I didn’t mind coming here. It’s nice to experience the more down-to-earth side of Fontaine once in a while too.”

“You haven’t been here before?! What a pity!” the young gardeswoman exclaimed, in between crunching on finger sliders. “Say, how long have you been in Fontaine?”

“Half a year, give or take. And hopefully, I’ll be here for many more years to come, because I don’t intend on returning to Inazuma until the name of the Chioriya brand reaches the ears of the Raiden Shogun.” She punctuated her point by stabbing a piece of fish through with her fork.

“That’s… pretty ambitious alright! You have my respect.” Chevreuse took another sip of Fonta. “Inazuma, though… Didn’t they just announce a lockdown of the country and some kinda… ‘Vision Hunt Decree’?”

“So I’ve heard… I have no idea what the Shogun could’ve been thinking. It sounds like a terrible idea through and through. Luckily I got out when I did.” She said that, but all of a sudden she was thinking about Inazuma… and terribly missing it. It was a very strange feeling to get, especially given all the reasons she’d run away in the first place. Maybe it was the fact that she’d been living in Fontaine long enough for the City of Lights to lose its lustre in her eyes. She swallowed the thought with another mouthful of fish.

“Must be hard for you, huh… Being stuck in a foreign nation, having to leave your friends, family and memories behind, not even being able to go back to check on them…” Chevreuse lamented, trying to express her sympathy.

“Thanks for your concern, but I’ll be fine. I have more bad memories of the place than good ones anyway. Fontaine is a much better place, even if it also has its faults. And as for my parents and friends… I can always write them a letter, you know, we aren’t that medieval.”

The images of the Kamisato siblings’ faces floated into Chiori’s imagination. She tried to imagine what they might have done if Shogunate soldiers came knocking at their door demanding their visions. It was a pretty improbable scenario anyway, surely the Shogunate wouldn’t go after the head clan of the Yashiro Commission. Right?

Okay, maybe now she was getting too homesick. This was too much unlike herself, to be worrying over old friends that she’d sworn she would leave behind with all the other memories, bitter or sweet. Perhaps a change of topic was in order.

“Anyway, that’s enough about me. Officer, I was meaning to ask you, just how did you manage to catch that guy who tried to escape from the window? It seemed to me like you predicted his every move ahead of time, and you cornered him like it was nothing. So I’m wondering, what’s your secret?”

From the way she straightened up, Chevreuse appeared quite pleased that Chiori was asking about her work. “Oh, it’s simple really. Intel is the key to a successful mission, or at least that’s what I always tell my men. In this case for example, my sergeants and I found out, from a floor plan of the building that they were using as their hideout, that there’s a secret passageway leading to the building next door. With the help of my… personal contacts in the Fleuve Cendre, we confirmed that such a passage does exist in reality. From there, the conclusion was obvious, and it was just a matter of wagering—”

“Hold on a second. Your ‘personal contacts in the Fleuve Cendre’?”

“Well— uh, it’s best if you don’t say that part out loud.” Chevreuse paused to check for imaginary eavesdroppers over her shoulder. “But intel is intel, and sometimes, you just have to look past the source and accept what you can get.”

“No, I mean… What’s the Fleuve Cendre?”

“Oh, I suppose you wouldn’t have known. It’s supposed to be a taboo topic, but it’s basically the most open secret in the Court. To put it simply, it’s the dirty underbelly of the city, a place deep underground at the intersection of drainage pipes, where the outcasts and misfits of Fontainian society gather and mingle. We gardes don’t go down there unless strictly necessary; our kind aren’t exactly welcome there.”

“Hmm… So please enlighten me on this, but how do you have personal contacts, in the plural, in such a place? If ‘your kind’ isn’t welcome there, then how did you manage to find someone willing to tell you about the secret passage?” Chiori questioned, leaning her head against her fist and raising an eyebrow of suspicion.

When Chevreuse replied, her voice had become a lot softer. “Because… it’s where I grew up. Down there, in the Fleuve. I met all kinds of people there, some of whom I still keep in contact with. But… it’s not a great place for a kid.”

“Ah.” Chiori immediately dropped the interrogative pose.

“It’s a long story. I’d… rather not talk about it.”

“And I’ll respect that. That was terribly insensitive of me, I apologise for bringing that subject up.”

“It’s okay, really. Honestly, you’re a lot easier to talk to than I thought at first. But maybe it’s just the food that’s making me feel more at ease…” Chevreuse muttered, dabbing at the remains of the ranch sauce with a chicken drumstick.

“I mean, I know when I first met you I was a hot mess, but I don’t feel that way anymore, now that I’ve had the chance to have an earnest one-to-one conversation with you. In fact… it’s funny, I feel quite comfortable telling you more about myself now. Not many people know that I came from the Fleuve Cendre, not even my sergeants, so… consider yourself a member of the fortunate few, heh.”

Chiori nodded in appreciation. “Well, I’m honoured. I also think that you’re quite an entertaining one to talk to.”

“Oh— is that true…?”

“Oh yes, I meant what I said. When have I ever said something dishonest? You really are a breath of fresh air compared to my stuffy and stuck-up clientele. Thank you for the recommendation too, the coffee here is pretty good.”

“Thank you, miss Chiori, you’re too kind…” A faint, ever-so-slightly crooked smile appeared on Chevreuse’s face. Chiori could tell it was a sincere one, borne out of genuine emotional movement, completely unlike the awkward smiles she’d given her earlier. It was an oddly charming smile, just like her laugh. Even though it was certainly entertaining to tease a flustered face out of Chevreuse, this kind of smile was much more pleasant to look at, Chiori decided there and then.

Out of nowhere, the grand clock tower atop the Palais Mermonia struck one. The sonorous chime of the bell interrupted the designer’s thoughts and caused the officer to switch right back into work mode, like a light switch being flicked on.

“Oh dang, how long have we been talking for? I’ve got to get back to work! Those papers aren’t gonna sign themselves…” Chevreuse grabbed a handful of leftover fries and started stuffing them into a paper napkin.

“Aw, trying to run off again, aren’t we? For the third time in a row?”

“This is for real this time! Turenna must be looking all over the place for me by now!”

In response to her completely serious face, Chiori just started laughing. “It’s just a joke, officer! Go do what you have to do, I’ll settle the bill.”

All of a sudden, Chevreuse went right back to stumbling over her words. “Oh—uh—um—thanks. Thanks for today, and thanks for everything that evening, I won’t forget your kindness. Uh… See you next time, goodbye!” As soon as the words left her lips, she donned her cap and took off at an almost running pace.

Staring at the direction in which Chevreuse had run off, Chiori sighed to herself. She looked back at the table, but then discovered the napkin-wrapped bundle of fries that was still there on the table, having been left behind in the garde commander’s hastiness. 

Chiori pulled the bundle over to her side of the table, unwrapped it, picked up a fry and popped it in her mouth. Hmm, the seasoning’s not bad. No wonder she likes it. She ate another one.

As she ate, she thought about Chevreuse. She thought about how both times they met each other, it had been a complete coincidence. She thought about how Chevreuse had initially come across as a pathetic mess of a woman, but in the end proved to be a competent leader and fearsome Garde officer. She thought about how fascinating it was that she could be apprehending dangerous criminals one moment, and chowing down on snacks the next, like it was the most natural thing in the world. She thought about her laughing that embarrassed laugh and smiling that off-centre smile.

She thought about whether it would be fated that they should run into each other ever again. And deep down inside, she wished that fate indeed had such designs for her.

Maybe leaving Inazuma behind wasn’t so bad after all…

Chapter Text

Wriothesley, Duke of Meropide, looked up from his paperwork to find someone standing in front of his desk that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

He set his extra-large teacup down on its saucer with a proportionately loud clink. “Now, I know my office has an open-door policy, but you could’ve at least made yourself known before you entered, couldn’t y—”

“Wrio, it’s me.” A tired-sounding voice interrupted him mid-reprimand.

The all-too-familiar voice prompted Wriothesley to take a second look at his unexpected visitor. Short but still imposing stature, bright red uniform decked with well-polished brass buttons, wild and untamed purple hair overflowing from beneath a tall peaked cap, one matching-coloured eye giving him a most unimpressed stare…

“Uhh… Chevreuse? How long have you been there for, exactly?”

“Long enough,” the visitor stated matter-of-factly. “And for your information, Your Grace, I knocked on your door three times, then I shouted your name another three times, but you didn’t hear me at all. Then I let myself in, and walked right up to your face, but you were still too absorbed in your damn tea to even notice me.”

“Oh. *sip* My bad.” The Duke’s face was the picture of perfect calmness, standing in stark contrast to the officer’s growing indignation.

“Is that all you have to say in your defence?” Chevreuse scoffed, crossing her arms. “What kind of Fortress Adminstrator goes about their day none the wiser to what’s happening under their nose? I might need to have a word with the Iudex about your appointment…”

“Aw come on, Chev, lighten up a bit! Can’t you see the monstrosity of paperwork on my desk? I haven’t even had the time to finish this cup before it went cold!” Wriothesley exclaimed pleadingly.

A withering glare from Chevreuse made him raise his hands in surrender instead. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry Cap, please don’t be mad. C’mere.” 

He got up from his seat and hurried over to the scowling Special Patrol officer, scooping up the considerably smaller woman into a big bear hug and smothering out her protests about “not being a captain yet”.

“It’s always nice to see you, Chev. My door’s always gonna be open for you, whether or not you have the courtesy to announce your presence.”

“You too, Wrio. But you might want to put me down… before you flatten me,” Chevreuse squeezed out, her voice muffled by Wriothesley’s bulky frame, even as her expression softened.

“Ah, sorry ‘bout that.” Wriothesley gestured towards the far wall of his office after setting her back down. “Could I make it up to you with a nice cuppa leaf juice? Oolong? Pu’er? Take your pick.”

Chevreuse’s gaze followed the direction he was pointing, and only then did she realise that said wall was actually a pantry that stretched from floor to ceiling, stocked to the brim with every type and blend of tea imaginable, as well as a veritable dragon’s hoard of cups, teapots, filters and sieves.

Greeted with this sight, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Even after all this while, you still haven’t changed one bit, have you Wrio?” 

The Duke let out a dry laugh. “What can I say? You can’t separate a man from his tea.”

“Of course.” Chevreuse stretched her back, and a number of joints audibly popped. “Can’t say I missed having my bones crushed by your vice grip though,” she muttered, making Wriothesley laugh even harder.

Chevreuse thought back to the last time she’d heard that nostalgic laugh. It would’ve been more than an understatement to say that it’d been “a while” since the two of them last saw each other. 

They’d first met in the Fleuve Cendre as kids and quickly became the fastest of friends. But after Wriothesley was incarcerated for the grisly murder of his foster parents, and Chevreuse began training to follow in her own father’s footsteps, they went their separate ways. It was only after Wriothesley finished serving his sentence (and took over the Fortress of Meropide), and Chevreuse was officially commissioned as a lieutenant of the Special Patrol, that they finally had the chance to meet up again. 

Even then, thanks to their respective duties, opportunities for a face-to-face like this were quite hard to come by. That was why Chevreuse wanted to make this trip really count.

“So then Cap, how’ve you been doing? Any news from the bright and sunny world above?” Wriothesley asked as he sat back down, interrupting Chevreuse’s reminiscing.

“Pretty good, all things considered,” Chevreuse replied. “If only it wasn’t for the fact that I’m still not a captain. How many times do I have to repeat myself?!”

She sighed and made a brushing motion with her hand. “That aside though, my squad and I just pulled off a string of successful arrests against the head honchos of Fontaine’s biggest drug-dealing rings. In fact, you should be able to see those guys here real soon, cause we’ve also gone ahead and escorted them over, straight from the Opera Epiclese holding cells. They’re at the front desk getting registered as we speak,” she elaborated, looking rather proud of herself.

“You have my congratulations then. I’m sure that’ll look good on your track record. But… how about yourself? Have you finally gotten out of your room and away from your detective novels, like I told you to? Did you go anywhere? Meet anyone interesting?”

Anyone interesting…

Images of a certain foreign tailor immediately popped up in Chevreuse’s mind. The eyes the colour of fresh blood that seemed to always shine with a dangerous glint, the over-the-top hairstyle that hypnotised with its countless loops and curls, the enchanting laugh and mesmerising smile, the way with words she had that never failed to make her weak in the knees and giddy in the head…

Chiori. That would count as “someone interesting”, wouldn’t it?

But Chevreuse didn’t know what to call the person who’d been living rent-free in her head for the past few weeks. A friend? Surely not, she hardly knew her, she had no right to say they were close. The source of her daily and nightly torment? Accurate, but way too mean to say out loud. A… crush? As true as it was, Wriothesley would never let her live that one down, that was for sure.

She really didn’t feel like answering that question. At least, not right now. But she still had to give him an answer, so…

“Well, I did make a new… acquaintance a while back. She’s… not bad. What about you though? Has anything interesting happened in the Fortress?”

Wriothesley leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes in thought. “Nothing much, honestly. The only thing I can think of is Sigewinne accidentally mixing up the prescriptions for two different patients yesterday. But then again, no news is good news, amirite?”

“Indeed, indeed.” Chevreuse chuckled nervously, silently praying that Wriothesley wouldn’t notice her attempt at changing the topic.

“Since I have nothing to report on my end, tell me about this new ‘acquaintance’ of yours, would you? What’s she like, hm?”

Ah. It seemed there was no running away from the problem after all. 

“Oh, I’ve only run into her twice before, so I don’t know her that well. I… I don’t think there’s anything worth talking about in that aspect.” 

Immediately, Wriothesley sat back upright. ”Oh, really now? Not worth talking about? I’ve landed on a gold mine today haven’t I — last time you acted this evasively it was when you broke Tetreaux’s whiskey glasses and tried to blame it on the wind.”

“You still remember that?!”

“Everyone remembers it. So, I’m starting to think there’s something about this person that you don’t want to tell me. Maybe, if I were to hazard a guess… you’re harbouring some feelings towards her?” The Duke flashed a wry grin, almost as if he’d figured everything out.

Chevreuse suddenly found herself really in need of a cough lozenge. Or maybe a glass of water. “R…really? What could possibly, ahem, make you think that?” 

“Maybe the fact that you’re hopping all over the place like a kid with too much candy? Or your not-so-slick attempts at trying to steer the conversation away from the subject of your so-called ‘acquaintance’?” 

The Duke locked eyes with Chevreuse, and she saw something shine in his eye. “Come on, Chev, just look at yourself. You’re basically sweating bullets over here. There’s no reason for you to be so nervous over such a simple matter, unless…”

At this point, Chevreuse sorely wanted to curse Wriothesley’s sharp eye and quick wits. And as good of a friend as he was, he could be an absolute menace at times, like now. She couldn’t keep the facade up for much longer like this. 

“You’re so unnecessarily sharp when I don’t need you to be… So what if I fell for her because she’s the hottest woman I’ve ever seen in my life? Is there anything wrong with that?!”

Wriothesley’s eyebrow shot upwards immediately, and his knowing grin became a devious smirk. “Called it. Heh, I knew your gay ass could never escape the allegations.”

Chevreuse’s hand shot to her mouth when her brain finally caught up and it dawned on her what she’d just blurted out. “Wait, no!” she shouted. “I didn’t mean to say that!”

The smirk on Wriothesley’s face only widened. “What did you mean to say then? You’ve got heart eyes for her? You spend every waking moment fantasising about holding hands with her?”

“Hey, what, no! It was just a slip of the tongue, she’s just an acquaintance, nothing more! Keep your imagination under control!” 

Even as Chevreuse fought to put out the fire she’d accidentally caused, a sinking feeling washed over her as she realised that everything Wriothesley said was 100% true. She really was undoubtedly, unsalvageably down bad.

Wriothesley was now starting to snicker uncontrollably. “What, your tongue slipped and just so happened to say the words ‘hottest woman I’ve ever seen’, in that exact order, with perfect clarity?”

“Shut up already, you tea addict…”

“Gods, Chev, you’re a natural-born comedian! With your talents, you should go and sign up for Teyvat’s Got Talent— ow!” A flying stapler cut Wriothesley short.

“Okay, fine, no Teyvat’s Got Talent… But you have to be truthful with me!”

“Fine… You’re infuriatingly observant, you know that?” Chevreuse rubbed her forehead. “I’ll admit it. I’ve got a crush on someone that I just met. There, are you happy?” she grumbled.

“I also have to tell you… that’s the real reason I came down here today. The bit about escorting the drug dealers… it was just a convenient excuse I gave my higher ups to come here.”

“Thought as much.”

“Wrio, I don’t know what I should do about all this. You’re the only one I can turn to; I wouldn’t dare ask anyone else about my personal feelings. Can you help me out, like old times?” Chevreuse pleaded, looking not unlike a deflated balloon.

“Huh. Well, if anything, I’m glad you’re finally honest with yourself. Come, take a seat, and let’s talk it out. Like old times.”

Soon, Chevreuse was sprawled across one of the office sofas, while Wriothesley was parked on a chair next to said sofa, carefully balancing his teacup and its saucer in one hand. The whole scene was oddly reminiscent of a therapist’s office, but with more tea.

“Okay, to summarise, you’ve got the feels for Ms. Chiori from the Chioriya Boutique. The one who all the papers were talking about last Fashion Week.”

Chevreuse, who was busy melting into a sad puddle, nodded weakly.

“And you think that she’s drop-dead gorgeous, and you feel weak whenever you look at her or think of her.”

“A little on the nose there, but yes.”

“And you want to have a romantic candlelit dinner with her and then pin her down on the table and eat her out.”

“Yes— wait, WHAT?!”

“Well that’s a case if I ever saw one. Have you ever considered getting tested for masochism?”

“Oi, watch it! And I never even mentioned anything resembling that whole fanfic you seem to have come up with — what part of your twisted imagination did you even cook that up from?!”

“But would you be against it? Oh wait, never mind, you’d rather be the one getting pinned down instead—”

“Wriothesley!!” Chevreuse flipped herself over in a fit of exasperation and buried her head under a pile of throw pillows.

“Look, can you even blame me? I’m still trying to recover from the look she gave me when she figured out I wasn’t giving her a straight answer!” came her voice from under the pillows. “Fudgecakes, it was crazy, it felt like she was gonna eat me whole right there and then…”

“Wow, didn’t know you were into that kinda thing… No kinkshaming though.”

“Hey, final warning!” Chevreuse flipped herself back over, liberating her head from the embrace of the pillows, just to give Wriothesley the stink-eye. “Stop messing around and just let me have a moment, okay?”

Wriothesley expressed his apology and indication to go on, all rolled into one especially prolonged sip, to which Chevreuse could only sigh like a tired old grandma.

“That’s not even to mention the way she laughed after seeing my stupid reaction to her silly little joke, when we were at the cafe. Wrio, let me tell you, it was angelic. I am fully convinced that there is an angel walking the earth among us, and her name is Chiori.”

Chevreuse stretched herself out, knocking a couple of pillows off the couch in the process, and let out a great groan of frustration.

“It was insane, Wrio! The only way you could’ve understood the effect she had on my poor poor heart is if you’d been there with me. But how could you even begin to understand?”

“And you know what? The worst part of it all is I can’t tell what she’s thinking at all! I’ve got a feeling that maybe, just maybe, she’s interested in me too, but with the way she hides behind that coy smile of hers — oh fudgecakes, I could go on for ages about that beautiful, beautiful smile — I don’t know if she means it, or if she’s just toying with me! What’s a poor girl supposed to make of it?”

“So, you have a reason to believe she likes you back?”

“Do you know how many times she said I was ‘charming’, or ‘entertaining’, or ‘a breath of fresh air’?”

“…How many?”

“…Okay, I wasn’t keeping count. But it was a lot, alright? And on top of that, she treated me to lunch at my favorite cafe! On our second meeting ever! And she was the one who made the invitation voluntarily!”

“That does sound like a point in favour of your theory…”

“And if only I hadn’t been so busy that day, she would’ve invited me to come to her place and share a bottle of wine instead! Isn’t that basically one step away from that romantic candlelit dinner you were talking about?!”

“That it is. The way you put it, I think the hints are quite obvious. Chev, if you still haven’t picked up on those hints by now, you’re one hell of a blockhead.”

“You might be right, Wrio. Maybe she likes me too…”

“And maybe deep in your heart of hearts, you really do want to get eaten out by her after a romantic candlelit dinner after all.”

A throw pillow flew gracefully through the air and smacked into Wriothesley square in the face.

“Archons above, just help me Wrio… I must’ve looked so stupid in front of her, all blushy and stammery and useless… I can’t believe I acted like that!” Chevreuse cried out as she nursed a cup of mint tea she’d (reluctantly) accepted from Wriothesley. (“Ms. Chiori showed you how good a nice warm cup of tea is at calming the nerves, didn’t she?” he’d said.)

“And we’ve been at it for half an hour now. Come on Chev, stop worrying about it so much. You said it yourself, didn’t you? She still likes you, in spite of your whole depression arc just now. I’m sure if she thought you were a klutz or a loser, she wouldn’t have treated you to that nice snack platter, no?” Wriothesley responded as he finished off his own cup.

“Well that snack platter was pretty good— wait no! That’s exactly the problem! What if I say something wrong the next time I meet her, or I overreact to one of her innocuous questions again, and I blow my chances clean out of the water? How am I gonna live with myself?”

Wriothesley, with his hands now free, placed them reassuringly on her back. “Chev, listen to me. You’ve gotta have more confidence in yourself! You’re part of the one and only Special Security and Surveillance Patrol, aren’t you? And you aren’t just a member, you’re a whole commander! So what’ve you got to fear? Just shoot your shot!”

“You say it like it’s so easy. It’s almost like you haven’t been listening to my spiel for the past 30 minutes!” Chevreuse slumps on the table. “How am I gonna do that, when I become… like that whenever I see her?”

“True, but take it from me. I used to be like you over Clorinde, always thinking I wasn’t good enough for her, always afraid to talk to someone I thought was above my league. But then I just swallowed my pride and asked her out, and look where we are now!”

“You… did? I can’t imagine it…”

“You see? Anything is possible. Now, let’s come up with a game plan. You do mission planning, don’t you? This should be a piece of cake for you.”

“Yes, but—”

“Here’s what you’re gonna do: tomorrow, you’ll go to her shop — you do remember where her shop is, right? — and you’ll get her a lovely bouquet of flowers; calla lilies and windwheel asters should do the trick. You’ll give her that bouquet, and you’ll ask her if she’d like to have dinner together, as repayment for the lunch you two had. Then, you’ll go to Hotel Debord and enjoy that nice candlelit dinner, or you could go to the cinema instead, if you’d rather. Finally, you’ll escort her back home, and who knows— if you’re lucky, you might even get invited to stay the night! Sounds good?”

“I…isn’t this way too fast?” Chevreuse stuttered out. “You want me to just show up and ask her out?”

“Yeah, why not? It’s the exact same thing I did with Clorinde, and it worked well enough! Besides, didn’t Chiori also ‘just show up’ and invite you to lunch? Chev, you’ve got to match her confidence if you want to show her that you aren’t just a wuss. In fact, I say you go tonight! I'll sponsor your dinner AND your movie tickets!”

“But I’m not a wuss—” Chevreuse raised a finger. Then she put it down again. “Okay, maybe I am. Just a little.”

“Alright, if plan A doesn’t suit you, then here’s plan B: find as many opportunities as possible to talk to her. On break? Go find her at her shop. Run into her at the bookstore? Share with her what you’re reading. The more you talk to her, the more she’ll remember you, and the closer you’ll become. Then you can work upwards from that foundation!”

“Okay, I can see the feasibility of that plan,” Chevreuse carefully spoke, ruminating on the prospect. “But what do you know about her? Are you sure that this won’t all backfire horrendously on me?”

“Actually, just so we set the record straight, I’ve talked to Chiori before. There was once when I had to get my trousers fixed, and her shop happened to be the only tailor open at the time.”

“WHAT?! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“…Why would I? I didn’t know you had this whole situation going on until today.”

“…Oh, fair enough.”

“Anyway, the point is, I think she’s quite an alright person, once you look past her standoffish attitude, or her abrasively blunt manner of speaking. You can tell that deep down inside, she cares for her customers first and foremost. Who knows, maybe you might be able to find a place in her heart too?”

Chevreuse furrowed her brows in thought. “…But I never felt she spoke abrasively though? She’s always been quite kind to me, now that I think about it. What with inviting me into her shop, and offering me warm tea, and all that.”

“Then it should be even more obvious, shouldn’t it? She likes you! And she’s liked you since the start! Aren’t you a lucky girl?”

“I feel lucky just to exist in the same world as Chiori.”

“Heh, look who’s getting all cheesy and sentimental after getting bitten by the love bug!” Wriothesley flashed another one of his classic shit-eating grins. “But here’s the important thing: have you made any moves of your own yet?”

“…What do you think the answer’s gonna be?”

“I guess not then. In that case, I think I’ll have to give you a little push to get things going.”

“Hey, whaddya mean, ‘a little push’?” Chevreuse’s eyebrows shot up in alarm.

“You’ll find out soon enough. Are you feeling better about your situation, though?”

“Kinda… I’m just glad to have gotten all that out of my system. Thanks for being there to listen to my little outburst.” With a heave, Chevreuse got up from her position sunken deep into the couch. “I suppose I should get going, then.”

“No problem, my dearest comrade. But now you’ve gotten me invested in your budding relationship, and I must see it through to the end! I’ve given you a suggestion for how to move forward, so can you promise me you’ll follow up on it?”

After a long moment of hesitation, Chevreuse nodded. “I will.”

“Pinky promise?”

“…Fine.” With a disgruntled groan, she stepped forward to lock pinkies with Wriothesley.

“Great. Remember what I told you, and keep me updated on how it goes, mmkay?”

“Okay. See you next time, Wrio.”

“See you, Chev. You’d better be walking hand-in-hand with Ms. Chiori the next time I see you, or else!”

“I’ll try…” 

And just like that, Chevreuse was down the stairs and out the door, leaving behind the Duke, who picked up the empty teacups and returned to his desk.

As soon as he heard the door clicking shut, he picked up the phone and started dialing.

“Hello, Rinny? I’ve got an idea, and I need your help.”

“It’s never anything good when you say that…”

Chapter Text

“Navia, I am not going to make you a ten-meter-tall top hat. I’m sure I don’t need to explain to you why that is a wildly impractical idea and ultimately a waste of my materials and my time.”

“…No, I’m not going to put it in front of the shop either. It’s only going to invite ridicule and end up with my name getting slandered in one of those shady tabloids. That’s not the kind of publicity I’m looking for.”

“…Navia, it doesn’t matter what number you give me, we are not going to do any kind of top hat exceeding the sensible and reasonable height for a hat. I am a clothing designer, not a circus prop designer.”

“…We might be able to make the boat-shaped hat work though. I’ll get back to you after I hear from the suppliers.”

With a world-weary sigh, Chiori slammed the telephone handset back onto its receiver and buried her face in her hands. Navia Caspar… For all the contributions she’d made to the Chioriya catalogue with her unorthodox ideas, sometimes those ideas could get a little too… outlandish. The ten-meter-tall top hat was just the most recent example.

Chiori couldn’t really blame her though. Maybe the stress of being President of the Spina di Rosula had gotten to her and made her a little… loopy. Helming such a large organisation, managing a plethora of business ventures while mediating disputes big and small and fighting for the common man’s justice… It was undoubtedly a lot for a young lady to handle, not to mention her father’s reputational downfall and untimely demise, the fallout of which led to her estrangement from her childhood friend. 

But if there was any unresolved trauma from the events of a year ago, or any cracks forming in her resolve, the Demoiselle sure didn’t let it show. Perhaps her little flights of imaginative fancy were just another way to relieve the immense pressure she must be feeling.

Chiori would have to find some way to support her through these tough times. After all, Navia was not only her most loyal customer, but also her greatest financial backer. Without the Spina’s support, in all likelihood, she never could’ve pulled off that wildly successful first Fashion Week that gave her the fame she enjoyed now. Especially not after that *Inazuman profanity* Uther pulled out at the last moment…

The chimes on the front door rang out, making Chiori extricate her thoughts from her memories and her face from her hands. As heavy footsteps echoed on the floor of her boutique, Chiori, with a grumble, turned to the shelf behind her to fetch the fabric swatches and measuring tape that she knew would be needed. Based on the sound, she fully expected some posh aristocrat to appear before her, asking for her “finest” tailor-made formal wear (as if all her work wasn’t anything but the finest). Call it a sixth sense for detecting snobbish pricks, or something like that.

“Welcome to the Chioriya Boutique, how may I help you? A personalized, custom job? Or something off the shelf?” Chiori rattled off her standard greeting while rummaging through the shelves and drawers, not even bothering to turn around..

“None of those, I’m afraid. I’m here for you, Ms. Chiori.”

Chiori stopped in her tracks as the voice registeredin her head. She spun back around to face the newcomer. A very familiar purple-haired girl in a red uniform was looking back at her, with a hesitant expression on her face and a bag of something fragrant in her hand.

“Oh,” Chiori uttered. “It’s you.”

“Yep… it’s me,” Chevreuse replied, her bashful smile only widening.

The seamstress blinked. Of all the people that could’ve come into her shop, the last person she would’ve expected was her . Here she was, thinking that the poor girl was already too timid to want to see her again, let alone actively seek her out. What was she doing here? What did she want? 

She peered closely at the officer, trying to read her intentions from her expression. The way her eyes (at least, the one not behind the eyepatch) were flitting about weren’t just a sign of her nervousness. No, it seemed as if someone else had told her to come here, and she still had lingering doubts about that someone’s plan. How strange.

Well, couldn’t hurt to speak her mind frankly, just as always.

“What a surprise it is to see you here, officer. What order of business brings you here? Another ‘routine inspection’ of my establishment, perhaps?” Chiori leaned forwards and folded her hands under her chin, giving her guest a knowing look. 

“You… remembered that?” Chevreuse asked, scratching the back of her head awkwardly.

“Why wouldn’t I? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten, after everything I did for you?”

“Of course not, not at all, heh. It’s, uh, very hard to forget you.”

“My, what a flatterer,” Chiori chuckled. 

In her heart, a strange warm feeling blossomed. Barely a minute in, and her bad mood from the phone call with Navia had already been entirely dispelled. Each and every time she’d run into this little Garde, half a head shorter than her, she’d always walked away with heightened  spirits. The fact that she was always such a sweetheart around her helped too. As well as those adorable dimples that always formed around her embarrassed smile. Heck, her whole person was adorable.

Chiori bowed her head, hoping to take her mind off these odd thoughts that’d suddenly invaded her headspace, only to have the sight of the sketches and drafts spread across her workbench to take over instead. Ah right, work. She still had to make that truly bizarre hat for Navia. 

“As much of a flatterer as you may be though, unless your inspection pertains to the selection that Chioriya Boutique has to offer, I’d like to turn my attention back to work. I’ve a number of orders to complete by today.”

“Wait,” Chevreuse exclaimed, perhaps a little too hastily. She raised the bag in her hand, which held a takeaway cup branded with the Café Lutece logo. “Actually, I brought you coffee.”

This invited a raise of the eyebrows from the tailor. “Oh, now did you?”

“Black, no cream, no sugar. Just the way you like it,” Chevreuse stated, a degree of proudness seeping into her tone, as she set the bag on Chiori’s workbench.

“Why, thank you.” Chiori accepted the offering, breaking into a geniune smile that made the corners of her eyes crinkle. “I’m glad you remembered that. Where did you learn to be such a darling?”

“D-darling? What do you mean by that?”

“Don’t act dumb in front of me, officer.” Chiori pulled the cup out of the bag and opened the lid. “Are you usually this nice to people you barely know, hm?” 

“Ah… well, it depends, of course…”

“Of course it does. So, going out of your way to buy coffee for this poor sleep-deprived tailor… it must signify something, no? I’m sure you’re not the type to do such things on a whim.”

“Oh, uh, please don’t think anything of it… Just consider it repayment for the lunch we had,” Chevreuse stammered.

“Heh, if you say so.” Chiori took a sip of the coffee. “Good stuff, this. Strong and flavourful, but not hot enough to be scalding. I think I might probably need you to get more of this stuff in the future—”

Without a shred of hesitation, Chevreuse declared, “Then I’ll bring you a cup every day from today onwards.” Chiori glanced up from her drink to see her looking like the Iudex’d just given her direct and immediate orders. “I’ll make sure you’ll get your coffee hot and fresh, every morning, without fail.”

Taken aback by the sheer sincerity in the Garde’s tone, Chiori hurriedly interjected. “Oh no, please don’t get the wrong idea. I didn’t mean that you have to bring me more coffee…”

“…But since you seem to be so serious about it, then be my guest, I suppose,” she added in the end, seeing that Chevreuse remained every bit as insistent as before. The seamstress took another sip of the coffee, subtly shaking her head, before setting it aside. “Anything else you wish to see me about?”

“Uh… no, that’ll be all. I’ll get going then,” Chevreuse said with all the confidence of someone who clearly hadn’t expected to get this far and was already out of steam.

“Of course. See you next time then, officer— although I’m sure you’ll be back before long.” Chiori smiled mischievously, cunning dancing across her features.

“Ahem.” Chevreuse cleared her throat in an effort to distract herself from the palpable tension in the air. “Because of the coffee?”

“Because of that, yes. But also because I have a feeling you enjoy seeing me. A lot more than you’re willing to let on, in fact.”

Of course she saw through me right away… Chevreuse thought to herself. Damn that Wrio, thinking this was a good idea. “Chiori— come on, you can’t keep doing this to me.”

“Why not? Which part of the great Legal Codex of Fontaine says that I can’t do ‘this’? Do point it out for my understanding, officer .” Chiori lowered her voice a good few notches, almost drawling the last word out.

“You’re not fair at all…” Chevreuse muttered, looking almost annoyed rather than flustered at her teasing.

“That’s because you don’t know how to defend yourself, Chevreuse. Regardless, you really ought to swing by more often. It’d make things a lot more interesting around here.”

Chevreuse’s expression hardened again. “If you say so… then I’ll come over as often as I can.”

“Are you sure you can do that?”

“I swear on the Special Patrol’s honour, strip me of my rank and pay if I don’t keep my word.” 

“You swear ? Over coffee ? Are you actually gonna take it that seriously?”

“I will, if it’s for you. See you tomorrow then.” Before the tailor could get another word in, Chevreuse, with a tip of her cap, turned and left the way she came.

Chiori shook her head regretfully, sighing to no one in particular. What was she doing, playing hard-to-get with the poor officer girl? And why’d she just extended her an invitation to keep coming by as many times as she’d like? It was so unlike her usual self. Besides, she still had business to take care of. For one, going to Beaumont Workshop to pester that Estelle about those helm and anchor-shaped mini brass ornaments. This Navia and her ridiculous ideas…

And just like that, an unwritten contract was signed between the burgeoning fashion designer and the Special Patrol officer. Every morning, come rain or shine, Chevreuse would bring Chiori one large black espresso, no cream, no sugar, from the cafe. If she had the time, which she usually did, she would stay for a moment to chat with her about their respective work, recent trials at the Opera Epiclese, or the latest sensational (and nonsensical) tabloid articles — whatever came to mind first. If Chiori hadn’t opened the store yet (which often happened, since despite the stated opening and closing times, the actual times were entirely dependent on her mood), Chevreuse would wrap the cup up in newspaper to keep it warm, draw a little smiley face on it, and leave it on the doorstep.

For Chiori, every time the chimes rang and the purple-haired girl showed up, it brightened up her morning just a little more, even with all the abundant sunlight already in the shop. It pleased her even more to see Chevreuse looking less nervous and more at ease every time she came in. And as for Chevreuse… only she herself knew for sure what she got out of this arrangement.

On one of these mornings, while Chiori was busy mending a set of torn clothes, the sound of the chimes announced Chevreuse’s timely arrival.

Chiori immediately looked up from the sea-blue skirt she was trying to salvage, and the corner of her mouth flickered upwards. “There you are, officer. Right on time. I trust you’ve brought the usual?”

Right on cue, Chevreuse presented her offering to Chiori, who received it with a nod and extracted from it the usual cup of black coffee… and an additional paper bag, emanating the warmth of freshly-baked pastries.

“Hmm, something extra this time round?”

“Ah, I haven’t had breakfast yet, so I thought I should get some Conch Madeleines too since I was there,” Chevreuse explained.

“What a coincidence, I haven’t had breakfast yet either. All thanks to that rascal over there—” Chiori nudged her shoulder towards a spot behind the garde “—who’s kept me busy all morning long.” 

“Would you like to share the Conch Madeleines then?”

“If you don’t mind me taking a little extra, then sure. I’m famished…”

Then, the realisation hit Chevreuse like a Nimble Harvester Mek overladen with iron chunks. Whipping around towards the area that Chiori had pointed at, she saw a cat with ash-gray fur basking in a patch of sunlight on the boutique floor. It stretched lazily, apparently having just woken up from a long and satisfying nap.

“Chiori… since when did you have a cat?!” Chevreuse whipped back around towards the seamstress, who was in the middle of grabbing a Conch Madeleine from the bag.

“Oh, that isn’t my cat per se. I just take care of her whenever she comes around. Which, come to think of it, is actually quite often.” Chiori said offhandedly, taking a bite of the snack.

“She’s adorable! Can I pet her? Just a little, please?”

“Sure, go ahead. I think she’ll take a liking to you as well.”

Immediately forsaking all thoughts of breakfast, Chevreuse scurried over to where the cat was lying and squatted down in front of it. In turn, it turned to stare at her with great big emerald-green eyes.

Chevreuse reached a hand out and began stroking along the length of the cat’s back. Its fur, she found, was slightly rough in texture, but incredibly light and fluffy. She moved towards the area between its ears, and it began nuzzling its head into her palm.

Chiori, who was watching from afar as she worked and ate, remarked, “See, I told you she would like you.”

“What’s her name?” Chevreuse asked, unable to tear her gaze from the fluffball.

“Kirara.”

“Oh, is that an Inazuman name? What does it mean?”

“Well, it’s a bit hard to translate directly, but I’d say it means something along the lines of ‘beautiful and good’.”

“I think that’s a very fitting name, then! She’s so well-behaved, and her eyes are so pretty.”

“She sure is.” As Chiori gazed at the officer playing with the cat, she was struck by the simple charm of the scene: Chevreuse’s childlike glee and Kirara’s adoring purring made for a sight that, put in no uncertain terms, she wished to cherish for all time. 

“…Come to think of it, the two of you are really quite similar.”

“How so?”

“Well, for one, both of you are terrible liars; you’ll always get given away by your body language whenever you try. For Kirara, it’s her tails; for you, it’s your stuttering. For another, you both seemingly can’t stand the thought of being away from me; sooner or later you’ll be drawn back to this boutique just to see me.”

“You know I can’t help it— Wait, did you say tails ?” Chevreuse glanced back down at the kitty beside her, and saw that it indeed sported two matching tails that were lazily swatting at nothing. She turned back to Chiori with a newfound sense of concern. “What’s up with… that?”

“That would be the youkai heritage. Don’t sweat it.” Chiori put down her sewing needle and picked up another Conch Madeleine. “Anyway, Kirara, I’ve finished mending your clothes. Why don’t you go get yourself dressed, then come out and greet our friend Lieutenant Chevreuse over here? I’ll put your clothes in fitting room 3.”

To Chevreuse’s great surprise, Kirara let out a meow that sounded like a word of acknowledgement, then got up and started trotting over towards the fitting rooms, following closely behind Chiori. It seemed as if it could understand her instructions… could it? There was no way anybody could’ve trained a cat so well that it could understand human language, even if it was the great and talented Chiori. Why would a cat even need to get its clothes fixed? Chevreuse felt like she’d stayed up too late reading Hercule Poisson novels last night. First the double tails, now this?

Before long, from the fitting rooms emerged a lively-looking teenage girl with ashy blonde hair and emerald-green eyes. She wore a sky-blue tunic with detached sleeves over a black crop top, as well as a pleated sea-blue skirt and gray leg warmers, out of which extended… cat paws? And behind her there was… a pair of cat tails? 

Chevreuse couldn’t believe her eyes. This girl looked just like a human version of the kitty she was patting a moment ago. Quite literally every part of her appearance matched up. What in the world was going on?

“Hello, miss— sorry, madam Chevreuse! Nice to meet you! I’m Kirara, Gold-Level Courier of Komaniya Express! If there’s anything you need delivered to anywhere, please don’t hesitate to contact us, and I’ll get on it right away!” the blonde girl exclaimed.

“Hello, Kirara. Nice to meet you,” Chevreuse squeaked out weakly.

“I told you, it’s the youkai heritage. More specifically, Kirara here is a nekomata, which means she can freely transform between cat and human forms,” Chiori intoned from behind Kirara. “Chevreuse, oh Chevreuse, it seems like there’s still a lot you have to learn about the world.”

“I… well… at least she’s still just as cute in human form as in cat form, right?”

“You really think so? Thank you, madam Chevy! Your praise means a lot to me!” Kirara’s eyes lit up in joy and her tails began swaying excitedly. “Can I call you Chevy? Your name’s a little hard for me to pronounce.”

“…‘Chevy’?” Chiori could barely stifle a girlish giggle, as her usual stoic manner melted away in an instant. “That sounds adorable, I might just have to start using it myself.”

“Hey, that’s not fair! You can’t start using nicknames on me!” Chevreuse protested immediately.

“Oh, is that so? What if I do it anyway, hmm Chevy?”

“Then it’s only fair that I get to call you a nickname too.”

“Try coming up with a nickname as good as ‘Chevy’ first.”

“Okay then… uh… Chio!”

“Hm. A valiant effort. But maybe we should leave the nicknaming to Kirara.”

“By the way, big sis Chiori and madam Chevy, I’d hate to interrupt… whatever you two are doing, but I still have more deliveries to make,” Kirara piped up out of nowhere. “And big sis, you still haven’t signed for your delivery.”

“Oh, my bad, Ki-chan.” Chiori took the clipboard that Kirara was holding out, ticked a few boxes, and scribbled a quick signature at the bottom. “5-star review as usual for you. But please be more careful with your clothes next time, alright? You need to remember to stop climbing up trees to sleep when you’re out doing deliveries.”

“Thank you big sis! But it’s just so much safer to sleep in trees while on the road, ’cause the meanies won’t see me up there…” the feline courier said as she took the clipboard back and began picking up the packages stacked in one corner of the shop.

“Alright, point taken. Wouldn’t it be inconvenient to have to come to Fontaine every time you need to patch a tear though?”

“Don’t worry, big sis. I’d make the trip every time just for you!” Kirara proclaimed proudly with a radiant smile stretched across her face.

“Of course you will. That’s everything you need from me, is it? Well, off you go then, my little kitty. Stay safe on the road!” With a pat on the back and a generous rub on the head, Chiori sent Kirara on her way.

“Never thought I’d envy a… whatchamacallit… nekomata…” Chevreuse muttered under her breath as the cat girl, laden with packages big and small, flew off with surprising speed.

“Why? Do you want me to call you ‘my little kitty’ too?” The seamstress turned to the officer next to her, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Chevreuse lurched in shock at Chiori’s better-than-expected sense of hearing. “What, no no no, that’s not it! It’s just that… she called you big sis… and then you called her Ki-chan…” she mumbled through the hands covering her face.

“Jealous?” 

“Uh, no?”

“Well, that’s funny. I thought I just heard someone say they envy the nekomata.”

“…Fine, you got me. Maybe I’m a little jealous.” As Chevreuse bowed her head in resignation, a finger placed firmly under her chin lifted it back up.

“Come now, Chevy, you don’t have to feel guilty over that,” Chiori consoled. “I understand how you feel. You just want to get to know me better, don’t you? You wish you were in Kirara’s place.”

Chevreuse shifted as the touch to her chin reminded her not-so-kindly of her first run-in with the Thundering Seamstress. “That pretty much sums it up, I have to admit. But… you don’t mind?” A shiver ran down her spine as all the anxiety of old hit her in full force.

“I don’t mind it one bit, silly,” Chiori said as she made her way back to her workbench. “Why would I cold-heartedly turn down someone who’s earnestly trying to bond with me, when I’m the one who’s stuck in a foreign land with no real connections? I only have no patience for those who think themselves above me.”

“Speaking of which, Chevy, I’ve long since deduced why you’re so persistent in bringing me coffee every morning. It’s just as I said: you enjoy seeing me. You won’t pass up the chance to talk to me.”

“Spot on once again…” Chevreuse sighed. “Sorry for that.”

“What’re you apologising for? Don’t do that,” Chiori scowled. “I already told you, I don’t mind it one bit. In fact, you should keep it up. Keep bringing me coffee. It’s a win-win situation for us both, isn’t it? You get to see me every day, and I get my very important morning pick-me-ups.”

“I… I’m glad to hear that. I really appreciate your straightforwardness.”

“No problem. It’s what I do best.”

Receiving only a small smile from Chevreuse in response, Chiori looked down at her desk, unsure of how to continue. What was with her and her… awkward charm? Why was she so enamored by someone who could barely keep themselves together? No, scratch that, she was sure she was plenty fine while on the job. But still, why, especially since she had no respect for those who held no commitment to their values, or worse, had no values at all?

Maybe she saw in Chevreuse a kind of tenacity that made her a kindred spirit of sorts. After all, she seemed quite dedicated to upholding justice and punishing evildoers, from what she’d gathered from their morning chats thus far. Or maybe there was some truth to the old adage that “opposites attract”?

Chiori didn’t like where her train of thought was leading her. She had to say something, quick, before Chevreuse could see her weakness… Ah, right. She still seemed to have some lingering questions about Kirara…

“Don’t be bothered by Kirara, by the way. We’ve known each other since I was a mere apprentice in Inazuma, and she was a normal, one-tailed kitten, who would always follow me around whenever I went out into the wild for inspiration. I don’t know when she became a youkai, but since she now has a job making international deliveries for Komaniya Express, and I was one of the handful of Inazumans stuck outside the country when the borders closed, it’s only natural that she and I came to rely on each other.”

“I see… Kirara must’ve been so cute back then, from the way you were talking about her.”

“Yeah, she was. Sometimes she’d even come up and rub her head against my legs while I sketched.”

“Aww…!” Chevreuse swooned at the image that formed in her head. “…Hey, any chance that she’ll come back anytime soon? I kinda feel like I haven’t gotten enough of her fur… I mean, given that she’s willing to turn back to cat form for me, of course.”

“Hmm, who knows, her schedule is all over the place. She does have to travel all over the seven nations, you know. But I could place another order right away, request her as the courier, then I’ll let you know when she gets here.”

“Oh no, it’s okay, there’s no need to go out of your way for me!”

“No, it won’t be a problem. I always get her to deliver my materials anyway, and she always gives my orders top priority. I’m sure Kirara wouldn’t feel inconvenienced either; she’d be happy to come back to Fontaine, especially if it was to see you and me.”

“Wait… that means I’m included in the list of people she likes now? Already?”

“I’d certainly think so. How about I put it this way: whatever I like, Kirara also likes. That’s how I know she likes you.”

The room fell silent for a minute as the two of them stared at each other, both caught off guard, both coming to a realisation of what those words meant.

Finally, Chiori averted her gaze and made a strange noise with her throat. “Ehem… Anyway, officer… Aren't you forgetting something?”

“…Am I?” Chevreuse blinked herself out of her stupor.

“Your Conch Madeleines. I’ve almost finished the whole bag.”

“Oh, right! Thanks for saving me some.” Chevreuse took the bag of snacks and stashed it away. “I probably ought to get going too. I might actually end up late if I dally any further.”

“Well, off you go then. Wouldn’t want to keep you.” With a little wave, the designer bid farewell to the officer. But a moment later, she changed the wave to a raised finger.

“…One last thing, actually.”

“What is it?” Chevreuse, who already had a hand on the door, turned back around.

“I’ve decided. If you want a nickname, then you can call me Chi-chan.”

“Chi-chan…?”

“‘Chi’ for short. Not in front of other people though. Not even Kirara.”

The confusion on the officer’s face eventually gave way to a smug smile of her own. “Roger that, Chi.”

This is one real mess of a place, Chiori was thinking to herself. All she wanted was to find one book, but with the absolute lack of organisation in this bookstore/newsstand, even that was proving to be a tall order. Granted, the book she was trying to find was an Inazuman cookbook, and while Fontaine was known for its gastronomy, foreign cuisines weren’t exactly popular here. And granted, the guy who ran this place, Hubel, straight-up said that his real interest lay in working for the Steambird. But couldn’t he at least take his current job a little more seriously?! The nerve of some people…

Chiori, absorbed in scouring the disordered bookshelves as she was, didn’t notice that there was someone else in the same aisle, equally as absorbed in shelf-searching, until it was too late. The second she realised, they collided with a thump, sending a few books from the top of the stack in the other party’s hands falling to the floor.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, are you alr— Chiori?!”

“Chevy— I mean, Officer? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing myself!”

“How about you explain yourself first.”

“Me? Well, uh… I’m here to buy books, of course! Detective novels, to be specific. I’m gonna celebrate by spending a whole day catching up on the latest volumes of The Great Detective Hurlock and The Case Files of Miss Orith!”

“Celebrate? What are you celebrating?”

“My promotion! I guess I forgot to update you, but I’m captain of the whole Special Patrol now.” Chevreuse looked like she would’ve proudly put her hands on her hips, if it weren’t for the increasingly unstable stack of reading material she was still carrying.

“Captain, huh? Then, I believe congratulations are in order, Captain Chevreuse.” Chiori put her own hands on her hips, as if doing it on Chevreuse’s behalf. “That rolls off the tongue quite well, actually. A well-deserved promotion, in any case.”

“Thanks, Chi. It means a lot to me to hear that coming from you,” the newly-minted captain beamed. “What about you then? It’s rare to see you outside the boutique.”

“I’m looking for a book that Navia said could only be found here. It’s a cookbook for Inazuman street food recipes, written by some travelling food critic who I can’t quite remember the name of. Did you happen to come across anything like that by any chance?”

“Ah, I think I remember… I saw one Traditional Confections of the Isles of Eternity in the Travel section. It looked interesting, so I picked it up with the rest.”

“That’s the one! You’re a godsend, Chevy. So it was in the Travel section… No wonder, I was searching high and low in the Culinary section.”

“You’re welcome. Let me hand it over to you, then. It should be somewhere in this pile of mine now…” Chevreuse briefly scanned through said pile. “Ah, it dropped on the floor just now. Would you mind helping me pick those up?”

“No problem.” Dutifully, Chiori bent down and gathered the books scattered on the floor. As she did so, however, a few titles caught her eye.

“Ultimate Compedium of Cheesy Pick-up Lines: Guaranteed to Win Laughs and Hearts?” she asked as she stood back up, just in time to see Chevreuse’s face plummet. “…Compiled by Mahamatra Cyno? What’s that about?”

“Th-that? I was just… I just thought it was interesting that a book from Sumeru ended up in this small and not-very-notable store. And a joke book, of everything that could’ve come out of Sumeru!” 

Chiori remained unmoved, stating, “Chevy, this is a book of pick-up lines, not jokes.” She turned to one of the other books she’d picked up. “And what about this: A Fool’s Guide to Romantic Traditions in Inazuma ?”

“Oh, no, Inazuma’s just been on my mind lately. Y’know, ’cause of all the chats we’ve had? I just picked it up first so that I could sort through it all later…”

“Mmhm. And you just so happened to see a book about…” Chiori glanced over the abstract on the back cover. “…dating and courtship customs and traditions in Inazuma, and you decided it was something you wanted to read?”

“…Yeah?”

“Chevreuse, you like solving mysteries, don’t you? Then have a think about this: You picked up, out of self-professed ‘interest’, a book about Inazuman street food, a book about cheesy pick-up lines, and a book about dating culture in Inazuma.” She waved said book in Chevreuse’s face for emphasis. “Come on now, did your pay rise come with a cut in your mental faculties? Clearly, you’re here for more than just detective novels.”

“I… yeah? I mean, like I said just now, talking to you has gotten me interested in your home country. In fact, I’ve been thinking about going on a vacation there. One last break before I have to settle into my new responsibilities as captain, y’know?”

“Well, too bad there’s that whole Sakoku Decree going on now. No foreigners allowed except for essential trade. I would’ve loved to recommend you some places to see, but c’est la vie.”

“…Right.”

“And besides, you won’t find much use for those terrible pick-up lines where I come from. Whatever’s in that other guidebook is undoubtedly gonna be rubbish, so you can put that aside too. I’ll tell you straight from the source how Inazumans do romance, so listen up,” Chiori said as she dumped the two incriminating books onto the nearby shelf.

She locked eyes with Chevreuse, her gaze burning itself into the latter’s mind. “In Inazuma, elegance and chivalry is the name of the game. If you like someone, you would never say it directly to their face. And you would absolutely never have public displays of affection like how Fontainians like it. Instead, you would use metaphorical proverbs, or perform subtle acts of kindness such as giving gifts or dedicating poetry to them, to express your admiration in a more roundabout way.”

And just as suddenly as she’d become all serious, she made an about-face. “That being said, it’s not like I’m a fan of those old stuffy traditions. If it were up to me, I’d much rather my partner do whatever feels most natural. Or just tell me directly.” Her eyes flickered away from the captain’s the moment she got the words out.

“I… see,” Chevreuse muttered when she finally had the chance to get a word in. “I don’t know why I got the feeling that all that was hinting at something… but I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You’d better.” Chiori let out a huff and brushed her hands off on her skirt. “But that’s enough of that nonsense. I believe there’s something else I have to address, that being, why is your idea of celebrating your own promotion cooping yourself up at home and reading all day long? Aren’t you going to go out with your friends or colleagues?”

Chevreuse blinked at the apparent absurdity of the question. “I already went out with my unit yesterday, the one I used to be commander of. They treated me to the Super Snacking Selection Platter from the cafe. The same one you treated me to back then?”

“Yes, I know. But the point still stands: why are you reading detective novels all by yourself? Do you really have nothing better to do?” 

“Because… I like the genre? I like anything that’s about good vs evil or the pursuit of justice, actually. But I like Detective Hurlock and his daring exploits most of all. Really gets me hooked.”

“No, you still don’t get it. What about your friends outside of work?”

“Outside of work…? Well, there’s Wrio, but I think he’s busy tracking down a group of runaway inmates. Asked me not to disturb him for the time being. Then there’s Emilie, but I’m pretty sure she’s shut herself away in her lab the whole week as usual. And as for the people I knew back in the Fleuve Cendre, I haven’t spoken to most of them in years.” 

Chevreuse thought back to the old days, her lips pressed into a grim line. “Besides, with the way that place is, half of them are probably enjoying a stay under the sea right now, while the other half would shut the door in my face the moment they find out I’m a Garde.”

“So apart from them… that leaves only you,” Chevreuse finished.

Chiori widened her eyes, a sly smile slowly creeping up her face. “Chevy… That simply won’t do. You know what, check out your books, then follow me.”

“Okay— wait what, why?”

“Do I have to spell it out for you? Since you don’t have anyone else to celebrate with, I’ll celebrate with you. We’ll keep it just between the two of us.”

“Oh— really? You don’t have to do this for me, I’m perfectly fine just catching up on my reading…” Chevreuse protested weakly, her words trailing off without any conviction.

“I’m on a creative break today, and I think it’s about time we opened that bottle of red wine I promised so long ago. It’s that simple, Chevy. Now go to the cashier and check out your books,” Chiori demanded, prodding Chevreuse towards the counter at the back of the cluttered store.

“Alright, alright, fine,” Chevreuse capitulated. “Just give me your book so I can check it out together with the rest.”

“Heh.” Chiori laughed under her breath before tossing her book towards Chevreuse. “Thoughtful as always, Captain.”

Wriothesley was at Beaumont Workshop, letting Estelle inspect the damages to his boxing gauntlet, when he saw a brunette fashionista and a violet-haired garde captain passing by on the street, headed in the direction of Chioriya Boutique.

As they walked past, he could hear the brunette loudly complaining, “While we’re at it, I’ll have to — no, I must make a casual outfit for you to wear on your days off. I’ve been holding it in the whole time, but I simply can’t believe you’re wearing that sort of thing!”

“…No, no ‘if’s or ‘but’s. Have you seen yourself in a mirror? A red-and-black tartan sweater, three sizes too big, and magenta nylon leggings?! Your colour coordination is completely gone! Vanished! Kaput! And so is your sense of shape language!”

“…At least you still look better than Kirara did the first time I saw her in Fontaine. But I’ll have to give you a makeover just the same!”

“Well, that was a whole lot faster than I expected. Not quite hand-holding, but close enough,” Wriothesley chuckled to himself. “Safe to say, Chev is in good hands.”

“—I told you not to call me that in front of other people!”

“Yep, good hands indeed.”