Work Text:
Yamagishi doesn’t spend any time for herself.
Or at least, from what Fuuka’s gathered, that’s the kind of impression most people have of her. It’s actually kind of hard not hearing that kind of thing. One would think the members of the Shadow Operatives wouldn’t talk so openly about someone whose ability is to literally scan and interpret information across wide swathes of areas, a person who can literally hear your office gossip as clearly as if it was whispered directly into her own ear.
…But it's not like they’re wrong.
Some days it feels like her every waking hour is dedicated to this project. Her mornings start with her fielding dozens of requests from agents all across Japan. It's the most mundane, and in her opinion most fulfilling, part of her job. The part where she can put pencil to paper and actually keep track of all the different problems and questions the Shadow Ops have, and address them immediately if she already has the information they need. In a way, it's almost like courtesy calls; keeping in contact with so many of the people she calls friends and making sure they’re doing alright and have what they need.
In the afternoon, it's scanning with Juno, either of the normal hot spots of activity or a wider net across the country. Fulfilling the requests from overnight and as they come in. It’s the most labor intensive part of her job, often requiring multiple breaks just to keep up the effort of sustaining Juno for such long periods. Fuuka counts the days until a formal contract offer for Kujikawa can be made, but as she’s still only a second year in high school (as well as her stated intention of moving back into idol work) it seems a faint and distant dream to put any hope into.
By evening, it's writing up reports for all of the different field operatives. This is distinctly her most… controversial duty that she’s taken upon herself. So many of her friends, including Mitsuru, have asked her to simply write her own general report and allow the handlers to craft the individualized ones… But she’s declined every time. There’s too much information, too many things she needs to let every person know to contain to just a single impersonal document. Her friends may argue with her, but she couldn’t bear it if a mistake was made because she had missed something or failed to communicate properly.
Even if it has culminated in her girlfriend staring her down from across her desk, sitting in the office chair with such a look that has terrified both human and shadow alike.
“You have been here for over twelve hours, Fuuka. You must head home.” Aigis’ look, despite its ferocity, is so soft at the edges that Fuuka cannot possibly interpret the demand as anything more than the request that it is.
“Just give me another half hour. I’ve almost finished this report for Ms. Kiri… Ah, I mean, Mitsuru.” Fuuka clicks her tongue, her own fatigue making her forget the level of formality to keep when talking with Aigis unofficially. “It’s the last one, I promise.”
…Does it say something about her, that she defaults to honorifics and family names so readily with one of her closest friends? She hopes not.
“Mitsuru previously stated she did not need that report until the end of the week. It is Tuesday.” Aigis leans over the desk, reaching a hand out to lay atop Fuuka’s. “Please. You look so very tired, and I am worried for you.”
“D-do I really look that bad?” Fuuka’s free hand jumps to the area just beneath her eyes, lightly dabbing at the foundation. She thought her makeup did a good job hiding those. “I’m sorry, I just-”
“As always, you are radiant.” Aigis says this embarrassing statement without hesitation, her hand enveloping Fuuka’s as her thumb lightly rubs against the palm of Fuuka’s hand. “I did not say that to suggest otherwise.”
She sighs softly, and Fuuka catches herself from wondering how much the affectation is subconscious at this point for the robotic woman in front of her. There’s no need to psychoanalyze her own girlfriend. Aigis’ usage of these kinds of mannerisms has gone well beyond any semblance of mimicry.
“I’m… almost done.” Fuuka whispers, her eyes averting away from Aigis’ blindingly bright blues. “If… If you want to do something together when I’m done, maybe you could walk me home? And tomorrow, if you’re available, we can take our lunch together.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Aigis dismisses the comment with a shake of her head, causing Fuuka’s heart to skip a beat.
Is… Aigis actually declining a date together? That never happens. Not when she’s free, and Fuuka is one of the only people who knows for sure when she is. Did she do something really wrong this time? “I-If you’re busy with something personal, we c-could do something later? I can make sure my reports are filed by around six, and then-”
“You misunderstand.” A small smile perks up on her girlfriend’s lips, a truer sign of something nefarious at work than there ever was. “We will not be taking our lunch breaks together, as you will not be working tomorrow. Mitsuru’s orders.”
“W-wait, what!?” Fuuka stands up with a start from her desk, wobbling slightly as blood rushes more freely down her legs after sitting for long enough to put them straight to sleep. The lower half of her body tingles insistently as she leans against the desk for support. “I… I will have so many requests to take in the morning. I can’t just ignore them!”
“They will be taken care of.” Aigis reaches out, laying her hands on Fuuka’s shoulders in an attempt to help her steady. “The operatives’ handlers will field the requests with the use of your very extensive reports.”
“But I need to-”
“Fuuka.” Aigis’ voice drops down to a whisper, the edges of her eyes softening as her lips tug down into the slightest of frowns. “It will be okay. Do this for me, please.”
Fuuka’s freezes at the sight of her girlfriend’s most infamous of gazes. Many an operative has attested to it being able to even cause shadows a moment's pause; that steely, unblinking stare, those furrowed eyebrows, the slight hunch in her shoulders that suggests she is willing and ready to pounce.
Though those operatives likely aren't witness to such a severe pout as Fuuka’s getting right now, and they certainly are not prepared for said pounce to become an air-compressingly tight hug around its object of attention.
Aigis’ classic puppy dog eyes routine.
…Oooooh, and it really does work every time, huh?
“Okay…” Fuuka hums quietly to herself, watching as her girlfriend’s smile immediately returns in full force. “You win. You always do.”
“Yes.” Aigis agrees with a nod, her hand descending to slowly slip the lid of Fuuka’s laptop closed. “I do.”
—
Aigis was made for this work.
This is a sentiment Aigis has heard, to some varying degree, all throughout the years since her reactivation in 2009. On the lips of Takeharu Kirijo, praising her for her efficiency as the shadows’ numbers dwindled even as the number of Apathy Syndrome sufferers soared. On the tip of the venomous tongue of the bastard Ikutsuki, her forced betrayal at his command still sitting heavy in her heart any time she considers the last few months of that conflict.
And now it resides in the minds of each of the operatives and agents that she has worked with, directly and indirectly. It is the first thing to be brought up the very second the mission is complete and well-meaning compliments are handed out by those involved.
It is not like they are wrong. She was made for this work, in as literal a sense as anything else could.
But she is surrounded by those who have reminded her not to just be a weapon. Mitsuru and her constant requests for Aigis to ‘take her damn vacation days’ before she has to bench her best agent. Yukari with her weekly calls, a true sacrifice for the woman who’s schedule has become so cramped and coordinated. Ken with his occasional visits, taking the train out to stay with her at her home any time he has a break from school. He is almost in high school now, and it’s been a true wonder to watch the boy grow up like he has…. Even if he seems to fret about her wellbeing so unnecessarily.
And, of course, her girlfriend. Fuuka Yamagishi. It’s been over a year now since they began seeing each other, but even before it was official, their constant, nearly flirtatious banter was always the subject of ‘water cooler’ discussions around the office. An overly direct compliment here, a surprising level of familiarity there. Even light, wordless touches the two shared were a point of gossip.
Not that either of the girls realized that they were flirting. Not in the moment. Not until Mitsuru called them in to discuss the HR contract that would need to be drafted for the two of them as a result of their relationship, which began one of the most agonizing and embarrassing hours of any of their lives.
…Though it did culminate in Aigis asking Fuuka out ‘officially’ afterward. For that, at least, she still remembers the day fondly. Even if it is still something Mitsuru refuses to discuss.
It is a wonder, truly, that the person who could most see what Aigis is, who can most clearly bear witness to what makes Aigis different from those around her… would see her as so much more than the weapon she was built to be. Her other friends profess similar beliefs, but it is something so thoroughly different for that person to be her partner, someone who sees every bit of her. The parts she hates, and the few she doesn’t.
Fuuka has taken up most of the necessary maintenance Aigis requires in order to function at peak efficiency. Even despite the many work related tasks that Fuuka busies herself with, she still takes that time for Aigis… And Aigis refuses to argue with her.
In front of anyone else, her robotic body is a source of anxiety for her. Of course, nearly everyone in the organization is aware of her nature, and of course she does not endeavor to hide that fact.
But there is something so much more intimate, much more powerful, and much less terrifying about the act of care being performed by the person she loves.
“The barrel on your left hand's pointer finger is showing signs of distress.” Fuuka asserts, mostly to herself, as she examines one of the many bullet-slinging digits upon Aigis’ person. She notes it down with her other hand as she continues to manipulate the finger, tensing and flexing it with the kind of delicacy that Aigis has only ever seen from Fuuka. “I’ll let requisitions know. They should-”
“You may let them know next week.” Aigis stares down at Fuuka from her recharging chair, her entire body beneath her neck inert to ensure no danger is done to her most precious of persons. “You are on a break, Fuuka.”
“Just one email wouldn’t hurt…” Fuuka keeps her gaze averted from the look Aigis wears, even though Aigis is sure she knows that she’s giving it. “It would only take a few minutes, and then we can-”
“This maintenance is not just an excuse to get back into your work, correct?” Aigis tries to keep her tone even. She knows Fuuka is quick to take things to their worst conclusion, and she does her best not to give her reason to scare.
“It’s not...” Fuuka sighs, releasing Aigis’ hand and leaning back as she raises her eyes to meet hers. “I mean… Not really.”
“Not really?” Aigis quirks a brow, tilting her head down to fully face Fuuka. “Then… it is partly an excuse.”
“...You got me.” Fuuka laughs to herself, lifting up a rag to wipe at her oil slick hands. “I’m not really good at keeping out of that mindset, I think… Despite what you and Mitsuru are doing for me, I think I’ll be a workaholic until the day I die.”
…
The silence digs in deep, as Fuuka’s statement sinks in for the both of them. Aigis cannot stop the wince at Fuuka’s reference to her death, something not lost on her partner who, in turn, flinches. Fuuka bites her lip, glancing away from her just as Aigis closes her eyes.
The mortality of her companions is a constant, looming fear. It is a phobia that she has allowed to define her entire life. Too often she has been told by her fellow operatives that she is not letting them perform their tasks to completion, too often she is told she is spreading herself too thin as she performs her duties.
But what is the alternative? To let them risk their lives unnecessarily when she could mitigate the risk, or even eliminate it all together? Unlike all other operatives besides her sister, Aigis is unkillable in every sense of the word. Even in the event of total structural failure, her body being reduced to component parts and those parts themselves shredded into pieces, her nigh indestructible black box that is her Papillon Heart contains all the information necessary to rebuild her exactly as she is now; the same memories, the same thoughts, the very same soul.
For her human friends and colleagues… there are no such second chances. She knows as much as any other former member of SEES how quickly even the strongest among them can disappear in just the blink of an eye. How quickly what seems like a victory can take on all the hollow notes of a defeat, with just a single…
Death.
“I’m sorry.”
Her girlfriend’s apology jars Aigis from her reverie, her eyes fluttering open to find Fuuka standing beside her, her hand resting on her shoulder and her face leaning in close. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I… should have watched my words.”
“No… No. I should apologize, Fuuka. It is a common turn of phrase, and I should be used to-”
“Hey… Let’s not do that.” Fuuka leans in, planting a chaste kiss on Aigis’ cheek as she wraps her arms around her inert shoulders. “We don’t have to compete to see who gets to feel bad, okay? We can just… try to make each other feel better instead.”
Aigis fights the urge to simply respond with another apology, especially in the wake of her girlfriend’s closeness taking occupancy in her thoughts. She nods instead, before finally willing her limbs to come back online. It always takes a couple of minutes for them to become totally functional as a protective measure for her technicians, so all she can manage in return for the hug is a small twitch of her finger that she pokes against the fabric of Fuuka’s shirt, tugging at it in place of a hug
The two sit there for a few more moments in quiet contentment, Aigis leaning against Fuuka’s chest as her head is held tightly in the woman’s arms. It feels safe there, safe in a way that Aigis rarely allows herself to feel. It’s the height of irony; a machine built for battle that feels the most secure while wrapped in the arms of a woman who could, almost literally, not harm a fly. The kind of person to catch it and release it out her window, to ask it oh-so-politely to remain outside her home as it buzzes away.
How could Aigis not love such a woman? That even the smallest of beings was not above her gentle notice, her tender mercy?
“What do you want to do today?” Fuuka asks, stroking her hand through Aigis’ hair as the first feeling of touch sizzles at the end of her fingertips. “We could… Uhm…” A small pause as Fuuka hums to herself, Aigis slowly reaching up to press her hand against Fuuka’s side. Her girlfriend laughs, nuzzling into Aigis’ head. “W-well… I don’t… uhm…”
“Having trouble deciding?” Aigis asks idly, her fingers brushing against the rough fabric of Fuuka’s undershirt. It’s the same shirt she always wears when working on Aigis, the same one that is never allowed to go in the wash with anything else for fear of staining the rest of the clothes with the oil that has left such distinct splotches across its formerly dark blue surface.
“I just…” Fuuka giggles again, hiding her face amongst Aigis’ golden blonde hair. “I… can’t think of anything.”
“You do not want to do anything with me?” Aigis blinks, tilting her head back and forcing Fuuka to pull away. At this vantage she can clearly see the rosy blush overtaking her girlfriend’s cheeks, her embarrassed smile soft and sweet.
“We…. never really do date days. I can’t remember the last time we sat down and watched a movie or went to a weird little restaurant to try something new.” Fuuka flashes a quick smile, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes and dabbing a smear of oil across her face in the process.
“...Has it really been that long?” Aigis stares at the stain, a mischievous impulse pushing her to point it out, to tease… but her girlfriend’s sentiment gives her pause.
When was the last time they went on a proper date? They take their lunches together as often as they can, Aigis walks her to and from work when she’s not on assignment, she’ll occasionally spend the night… But none of that really counts as dates. It’s all related to work.
And they’re both always working.
“I guess… It’s partly because you’re always off on missions.” Fuuka muses, her small smile slowly disappearing. “...And I’m always sending you off on them. So we just… never find the time.”
“Three months.” Aigis sighs to herself, disappointment pinging desperately in her head. “It’s been three months and twelve days since we’ve been on a date. When we went to the Summer Festival.”
“It can’t have been that long.” Fuuka stands up a bit straighter, staring down at Aigis, who’s still sitting in her seat. “How about… Well, what about when we went to see that play? We definitely…”
There’s a pregnant pause, with Fuuka’s face falling even further. Aigis speaks up to fill it, having already realized the same thing as Fuuka does. “But we did not go. I was called in for the mission to Osaka… and you went to the headquarters to provide support.”
It was a precaution more than anything. Scattered reports of something akin to Apathy Syndrome cropping up in a neighborhood just outside the city of Osaka. Before Aigis was even able to arrive, the entire operation was called off after an agent on scene reportedly diagnosed the situation as a broken water pipe allowing the leakage of toxic soil into the drinking water. A tragedy, to be sure, and certainly something that required action… but not the kind Aigis could perform.
She left Fuuka alone, on one of her few days off… for nothing. The first chance she had in months, and one she let fall away.
“It could have been important. You had no way of knowing.” Fuuka begins to stroke Aigis’ hair again, putting on a wavering smile as Aigis raises her eyes to meet hers. “I’m not upset.”
“I… am.” Aigis slowly pulls herself up a bit taller in the chair, her gaze falling away from Fuuka’s. “I owe you more than that.”
“You don’t owe me anything!”
Aigis blinks as Fuuka suddenly cups both of her cheeks, leaning in close until she fills Aigis’ vision completely. Her gaze is stern, her mouth pursed, her nose wrinkled. “That’s… That’s not what we should do. We do these things together.” Tiny tears sparkle in the corners of her lover’s eyes, her bottom lip quivering. “If I had asked you to stay that day, you would have, right?”
“I…” Aigis can do nothing else but meet those shimmering eyes with hers. Fuuka smiles, knowingly, as Aigis answers with a simple nod with her face still clasped between Fuuka’s hands. “I would have.”
“And I should have asked.” Fuuka presses a kiss to Aigis’ forehead, her finger gently stroking Aigis’ cheek. “We should… We should take time together. It’s something we both need to do.”
“But-”
“You went out of your way to make sure Mitsuru gave me a weekday off, entirely without warning for me or the rest of our team.” Fuuka gently chides Aigis, her kisses flowing down to press against Aigis’ temple, the side of her eye, and then her cheek. “So… if today goes well while I’m gone… maybe it’ll be okay if I stick with a lighter schedule, going forward.”
“You would do that?” Aigis raises her hands to nestle atop Fuuka’s, her voice hushed and quiet. She knows this is no idle gesture on Fuuka’s part, and that this is certainly a tall order for her to accomplish.
“I would.” Fuuka smiles softly before finally leaning in until her lips are only a few centimeters from Aigis’. The hot breath of her lover brushes against Aigis’ skin as daintily as her fingers, so warm it drives a blush to Aigis’ cheeks quicker than any biological human could react. “And all you have to do…” Fuuka whispers so quietly against Aigis’ mouth that she could almost mistake it for her own words, if she did not know her girlfriend’s voice almost better than her own. “...is ask.”
If she had any to begin with, Aigis would have all of her breath ripped directly out of her chest as Fuuka presses her lips to hers, pulling Aigis against her as if she were a lifeline. Aigis’ hands instinctively snake forward and wrap around Fuuka, pulling her into a hug and nearly onto her chair with her. Her lover laughs aloud at the act, her lips tickling against Aigis’ skin as she smacks at Aigis’ shoulder playfully.
“Put me down, nooooo!” Fuuka continues to giggle, refusing to stop her swarm of kisses even as she protests.
Aigis does so without hesitation, setting Fuuka right back down on the ground beside her and only releasing her arms when she’s sure Fuuka has found her footing.
Her girlfriend responds with an actual pout, one that does not reach her wild and giddy eyes framed by disheveled hair and oil streaks . “We’re already done?”
“You asked.” Aigis smiles softly, shrugging away Fuuka’s objection. “Is that not what we were just talking about, after all?”
“Oooooh… Well, make up for it later, okay?” Fuuka’s pout disappears in a flash of a smile, before a furrowed brow drives it back down. “Oh. Uhm… I think… I might have still had some oil on my hands. You’re…”
“I am…?” Aigis pauses, tilting her head slightly at the hesitation in Fuuka’s voice… before realization dawns on her. She reaches up, touching a finger to her own cheek and pulling away a dark black and slick substance. She glances back up to Fuuka, quirking an eyebrow. “...You have some of your own, you know.”
“What, I do!?” Fuuka groans, her hands jumping to her own cheeks… before she thinks better of it, instead leaning forward toward Aigis with a concerned tone ringing in her voice. “Where? Can you show me?”
“Here.” Aigis points at the side of her own face that correlates to where Fuuka streaked the first of the lines of oil. “And… there.” Aigis points to the side of Fuuka’s mouth, a smudge from when they kissed. “And…” Aigis pauses, leaning forward… before suddenly reaching out and swiping her oil slick finger across Fuuka’s other cheek. “There.”
“Ai-Aigis! How could you!” Fuuka reacts with genuine shock, even as the first creeping bit of laughter bubbles up her throat. “I, ahah, you really just… Mph, okay well, fair’s fair, I suppose! I did get it all over your face. And…” Fuuka leans to the side, glancing at the back of Aigis’ head. “...Your hair too.”
“It washes out easily enough.” Aigis hand brushes against the top of her head, feeling the viscous oil clumping at the roots of the synthetic fibers found there. “Your own hair, however…”
“I know, I know. I’ll go take a shower, then.” She leans back in, planting another tiny kiss at the tip of Aigis’ nose. She breaths a tiny laugh, backing up and wiping her hands on her already well dirtied shirt. “And when I’m done… maybe we can do some cooking?”
“Cooking…?” Aigis sits forward as Fuuka pulls away, not wishing the closeness to end so quickly. The last time they cooked together in any real capacity was during the time of Fuuka’s unofficial ‘cooking club.’ “What are we making?”
“I don’t know just yet.” Fuuka sidles away from Aigis in spite of her efforts, crossing the room to reach the door leading out of her garage-turned-workshop. She pulls a dirty cloth out of the pocket of her work pants, using it to turn the knob and glancing back over her shoulder to Aigis. “But that’s not the important part.”
The door is tugged open, a wave of natural light pouring in and washing away the shadows infesting the workspace. Fuuka stands, haloed by the shining light, but her smile oustrips even that. That glowing warmth of radiance that trumps even the sun itself fills Aigis’ heart with what could only be described as a sense of overwhelming and unconditional love.
“All that’s important is that it's with you.”