Chapter Text
The only sounds coming through the window were the shouts and calls of all the girls training, and the wind. Meanwhile, Agnes Tachyon was at her computer, making three times as much noise in silence, just pressing buttons and keys. If someone had seen her from outside, it would’ve looked like she’d gone completely mad and was just smashing keys at random. However, only the first part was mostly true. Lost in research, in the passion and obsession it stirred, day and night didn’t matter, people didn’t matter—nothing mattered: reaching the truth was her entire world, and Agnes Tachyon knew that better than anyone. In the dance of knowledge, knee and foot on the creaky chair, she didn’t notice someone calling her.
“Tachyon!” Jungle Pocket finally shouted from the doorway of her friend and rival’s room.
The shout, followed by heavy and annoying footsteps, snapped Tachyon out of her beautiful, rejuvenating trance.
“Ah, Pokke!” Tachyon replied, as emotional as her dull eyes would allow. “I was just thinking of you!”
The comment, so typically Tachyon, made Pocket’s small and rebellious heart trip a little. She stood and cleared her throat.
“Thinking of me?” she said with some nervousness. “Why…?”
“Well, I just finished a part of my research and remembered the new chemical bug-killer should be ready,” Tachyon said while pulling a test tube from her rack. “Would you like to be my guinea pig today?”
Pocket’s embarrassment turned into mild indignation.
“Of course I do! If that thing gets rid of the itch I’ve had since I drank that orange crap you gave me a few days ago, then hell yes I want it!”
Agnes Tachyon laughed at the remark.
“The fact we’ve confirmed alarm pheromones work on us too is fascinating, don’t you think?”
“Just tell me this’ll stop the itching,” Pocket said, barely resisting the urge to punch her friend.
“There’s only one way to find out!” Tachyon replied with a wild laugh.
She held the test tube up just a couple of centimeters away from Pocket, inviting her to grab and drink it.
“Would you do the honors?” she asked, getting way too close.
Blushing and annoyed, Pocket downed the entire blue liquid in one go. At first, out of habit and past experiences, she made a disgusted face. But once she finished, her eyes opened wide in surprise, and she stood still, praying no cramps or fumes would burst out of her body. She was relieved to feel nothing weird—and even more so when the itching began to fade. She scratched her head out of habit and saw a few small insects fall out.
“Fascinating!” Tachyon exclaimed, quickly jotting things down on her computer. “The ingested insecticide works!”
Pocket’s smile vanished as she grabbed Tachyon by her ever-present lab coat and nearly screamed at her.
“Relax, my little jungle of lice!” she said, laughing. “I made sure it wouldn’t hurt your digestive system!”
Pocket, now overwhelmed by a whirlwind of fear, anger, and nervousness, simply let her go and sat wherever she could.
“One of these days, you’re going to kill me, Tachyon…” she muttered, finally letting her frustration cool down.
Agnes Tachyon just gave a quiet chuckle as she kept typing some scientific nonsense. Pocket stood up and looked at her friend properly. She saw her in profile, eyes locked onto the screen with intense curiosity, wearing an unintentional smile. Many found those dull caramel eyes creepy—even Pocket had at some points—but alongside the blushing cheeks, the shyness, and a strangely hidden affection, it all felt different. A little jungle of emotions swirled inside her, fueling a force of will greater than anything she’d felt before—a move, a play.
With shaky resolve and flipping the bird to all common sense, she ended up wrapping an arm around Tachyon.
“S-so what are you doing now?” Pocket stammered.
“Hmm?” the scientist said, snapping out of another near-trance. “Oh! Just finishing up notes on what you drank.”
“Oh… interesting…” Pocket added, awkwardly trying to act natural.
“Right? I’m honestly surprised everything went so well.”
“Why’s that?”
“I guess I’m just used to things shining brighter than usual,” Tachyon said with her usual maniacal grin.
Pocket, hoping her friend would comment on “the play,” gave up and turned to leave.
“Well, I’ll let you keep working,” she said as she walked to the door. “But I’m coming back later for training, okay?”
Agnes Tachyon turned to the door with a smile.
“I’ll be waiting, dear Pokke.”
That made the energetic girl blush slightly, but not wanting her to see, she kept walking without turning back.
“One more thing,” Tachyon said suddenly. “What did it taste like?”
Pocket paused for a moment, then everything clicked in her head.
“Ah! The bug-killer,” she thought for a second before answering with a surprised tone, “Actually… it tasted sweet and nice. Yeah.”
After a small sigh, Tachyon let out a different kind of smile. With the sunlight pouring in through the window, the wind rustling the curtains, her short hair and lab coat swaying slightly, she seemed lighter. Pocket saw something new. It was a smile accompanied by a gentler gaze. Not one of sleep or relaxation—it had a glow, a happiness you could almost touch on Tachyon’s face.
“That’s good,” she said with an oddly sweet voice. “Hope training goes well, dear Pokke.”
Jungle Pocket didn’t respond. She just closed the door, trying her best to stay neutral while her cheeks burned. Once outside, she slid down against the wall, covering her face with both hands, sighing and thinking one thing:
Damn it, I love her!
The rest of the day went on as usual. Jungle Pocket trained nonstop. She ran and ran, amazed by her constant, almost unbeatable improvement (at least, in her egocentric opinion). She asked Dantsu Flame and Top Road to run mock races with her. Even though she won most of them, her teammate Fuji Kaseki kept repeating the same thing:
“Be more patient, Pocket!” she shouted with her trainer.
“Yeah, yeah, I know!” Pocket replied, clearly not planning to listen.
Meanwhile, Agnes Tachyon continued her research. Hours passed until five in the afternoon. If it hadn’t been for Manhattan Café, she wouldn’t have even had lunch: “Oops, slipped my mind.” She spent the day writing, analyzing, laughing at small discoveries, and getting lost in her mutterings once again. It all went back to normal—and that same concentration ended the same way.
“Tachyon!” Pocket shouted as she barged dramatically into the room. Café, who was in her usual spot, said nothing—just sighed with a faint smile.
Of course, the scientist didn’t react at first. Eyes wide open, fixed on the screen, watching some race in fast-forward. Pocket, already close and ready to scream in her ear, wondered how on earth she could watch races that fast and still understand everything. Finally, with a bit of mercy and a second shot at her “play,” she suddenly wrapped her arm around Tachyon.
“Ah!” Tachyon exclaimed with a smile. “Dear Pokke, you scared me!”
“Time to train!” said the white-streaked girl.
“Already?” Tachyon said, turning her head.
“It’s five in the afternoon…” Café said from her seat, still reading.
“Come on, let’s go!” Pocket shouted, trying to pull her out of the chair.
Tachyon didn’t resist much. She grabbed her camera, a tablet, a cable, and followed the tug of her friend’s arm. They arrived at an empty track—most of the girls had already showered and were resting after a long day.
“Okay, this time you’re running with me, Tachyon!”
But when Pocket turned to look at her friend, she saw her already sitting on the bench, ready to record everything.
“Whenever you’re ready!” the scientist yelled.
“Damn it, get over here!” Pocket shouted, charging toward her runaway friend.
“But this is training. I watch how you run and move, and that way I learn too.”
Pocket grumbled and eventually hung her head in resignation.
“This’ll help my research a lot, dear Pokke,” Tachyon added. “Run with all your might!”
But Pocket didn’t move. Instead, with the tip of her foot on the ground, her tail swishing, and her heel turning in little circles, Jungle Pocket blushed slightly before speaking.
“It’d be fun… if you ran with me… just this once…”
Jungle Pocket felt the wind pick up after throwing out her “play.” Embarrassed, her face burning with anxiety and that strange, conflicting feeling she always got around Agnes Tachyon. But amid glances to the floor, the sky, and every direction, their eyes met for a split second. Again, those open eyes with an unmatched glow. A smile, paired with a soft exhale. Then, in that infinite millisecond, Tachyon started laughing—shyly, genuinely, a laugh outside her usual madness. A sweet little giggle, like a gentle caress to Pocket’s ears.
“I will, in that case,” she said with a soft, kind voice. “But only if you wear this!”
Suddenly, Tachyon was back to normal, and Pocket found a bracelet with a tiny screen on her wrist. It measured her heart rate and a bunch of other things she didn’t understand.
“Oh!” Tachyon said, leaning in toward her friend’s wrist. “Your heart rate is pretty high—why’s that?”
Pocket blushed harder than ever and turned around, heading toward the track.
“No reason, hurry up already!” she yelled without looking back.
Unseen, as she calmly walked toward her friend, Tachyon placed her hand over her chest. She smiled softly, letting out a quiet giggle. Thanks to the orange of the sunset, even if Pocket had turned around, she wouldn’t have noticed the blush on Agnes Tachyon’s face.
The day ended with both lying in their dorms, thinking about that single millisecond. Their cheeks burned with fire at the memory. Both, unknowingly, thought the exact same thing: “I love that girl.”