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Pacifica watched as Kaz’s fingers brushed across the strings of his guitar. She couldn’t see his expression behind his sunglasses, but he looked more like he was trying to disarm a bomb rather than tuning his guitar. Kaz initially promised her this would be quick– only a few seconds, he swore, but it had been twenty minutes and Kaz declared that his guitar was out of tune. It was a weak excuse for how out of tune his voice was. Pacifica knew better than to comment on it. Paz, in her infinite patience and kindness, would assure him instead. As she slipped into Paz’s voice, Pacifica found herself doing that exactly and telling him to “take all the time he needs!”
As soon as the words slipped from her voice, Pacifica felt regret.
Conversations of this “Peace Day” were still vague enough that she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. No true concrete plans were made beyond talks of a performance, only a desire for a break from all of the fighting. As if there could ever be a break, especially when surrounded by men who were born and bred to kill. Pacifica knew better than to underestimate any of them though her training was enough to know she could take any of them. She was broken more thoroughly, beaten into shape like a piece of marble chipped into a masterpiece. These men’s sculptors were amateurs compared to Cipher’s mastery.
Still, she could never decide if their inadequacy was something to hate, pity, or envy.
Although Pacifica hated the idea of being distracted from her task for something so trivial, Paz would be overjoyed to know Kaz wanted her. So, when Kaz practically ambushed her, taking her arm to tug her aside with his guitar in his other hand, she had to follow Paz’s will. She had to follow him with a sweet and empty smile until they were far away enough that Kaz felt satisfied. He looked behind his shoulder, as if he thought he’d be followed for something so silly before he returned his focus to Pacifica.
No, to Paz.
Pacifica wasn’t sure when the edges of Paz started to bleed into Pacifica. After all, she had only spent so long wearing that mask and she spent even longer preparing the disguise. Paz wasn’t a real girl. She was a mask, a Trojan horse dipped in honey, dressed up in innocence and a passion for a tomorrow that could never be. She was a fool who still believed in peace and love. The very thought disgusted her.
“I was thinking,” Kaz had started before she could even find a seat, “About our performance. I wrote a little something, and I wanted you to listen.”
Without waiting for her permission, Kaz broke out into song, his voice croaking as if it wasn’t strong enough to convey the words he had written. Pacifica wanted nothing to do with it, but Paz would listen to every world, and so she did. She took her seat, letting her feet kick sway as she listened with closed eyes to Kaz sing of love and fear to give in to it. He sang until his voice started to waver, which was one Kaz asked her to give him a moment as he started to fiddle with his guitar. The guitar was fine, Pacifica had to admit that, but she wasn’t sure how well she could lie about his voice.
“Is this what you wanted me to hear?” Paz asked as she watched him strum the strings once more, replicating the note with a hum.
“For Peace Day… for the Peace Band. I started to work on something.” He replied, tapping his hand against the wood of the guitar.
Pacifica found herself singing from time to time. It was never anything big, nothing that she would’ve dedicated time to perfecting. Perhaps in another life, in a world that was kinder to Pacifica, she could have molded her life into something that’d make room for such a hobby. In that world where peace does reign and where Pacifica grew up far from the likes of Cipher, she could be good rather than decent. But, to men like Kaz, being “decent” might as well be “good”. Good enough that it inspired Kaz to dream up this collaboration between them, united by their names' shared meaning of peace.
It must have been convenient for him to find someone who could sing well enough to fulfill some fantasy. The lyrics of his song didn’t escape her. Kaz might be a womanizer, but he was a beyond hopeless romantic, clinging to deep feelings for someone whilst chasing fleeting ones for others, possibly hoping that it could lessen the way he felt.
Pacifica didn’t believe in love. It disgusted her, or perhaps “frightened” was a better word for it. Love only existed in her peripheral, an undeniable concept that she wouldn’t have privy to. It was a weakness, a chain, a collar with spikes to dig into your skin, a curse. She didn’t know when she first felt her disdain towards it. Perhaps when she was younger, when she felt loss before anything else. Was it true repulsion she felt towards love or was it an angry grief? A reminder of a world she was rejected from before she could know the difference.
“Do you really want me to perform? I’m not much of a singer.” Paz asked with the tilt of her head.
“You’re amazing, Paz. With your singer and my guitar… They won’t see us coming. Give yourself a little credit, won’t you?” Paz felt her cheeks heat up with his praise. It filled her chest with a disgusting warm feeling, an unfamiliar one, almost like a poison.
She covered her face with her hands, giving a theatrical shake of her head as if she could rid herself of its red. Logically, Pacifica knew that wasn’t possible, but it felt like an action the silly schoolgirl Paz would take, and in a way, it did lessen her embarrassment. “You don’t really mean that, do you?” She asked through her hands.
Kaz took her wrist and tugged her hands away from her face, “I do mean it. But, you don’t have to be amazing at it either. No matter how you do, everyone will love it as long as you’re having fun.”
Fun. As if. She was surrounded by men who were marked for death, who lived and breathed war as if they were made for it. They weren’t supposed to have fun. None of this was supposed to be fun. It was supposed to be horrifying and painful. They were supposed to suffer like she had all those years, taken apart and put back together to create a perfect spy, someone who was less of a woman and more of a weapon. But, Paz loved having fun.
And for a moment, Pacifica wanted to as well.
“Well… if everyone is looking forward to it, I can’t refuse, can I?” Paz pretended to think about it for a moment before nodding. “Okay! I’ve made up my mind. I won’t let you down, Kaz!”
Was that too enthusiastic? Not enough? Pacifica had planned out every part of her character perfectly. She studied the scenario, visualized the archetype, and memorized her lines. She never planned for the mask to slip. Not for the lines to blur, for her to start to wonder if this mission was even worth it, but Pacifica never lived in a world where she could wonder. Weapons don’t think. They only shoot when their trigger is pulled, and when they jam, they get taken apart. Their resistance is cleansed from the inside out. Whatever Cipher would do if she resisted her mission was worse than anything she could imagine.
Kaz’s entire face lit up, “I knew I could count on you.”
“I do have one question,” Paz continued, her words slipping out once more without a thought. “When you sing… You’re thinking about a certain someone, aren’t you?” For a moment, it didn’t matter if Paz would ask this. She couldn’t tell whether Pacifica or Paz had been seized by their mutual curiosity.
It was Kaz’s turn to fluster and splutter. He turned his face away from her with a chuckle, “Nothing can get past you, can it? So what if I am thinking about someone? Maybe multiple people. I can’t imagine it’s hard to miss-”
“I don’t mean like that,” Paz cut him off, “I mean something real.” Something she couldn’t imagine. That she wasn’t allowed to imagine, not when such an attachment would mean certain death.
Kaz’s face turned solemn with her words. For all his playing around, Paz knew there was something more serious to his feelings. “It’s Big Boss, isn’t it?” She asked and couldn’t feel surprised at his nod. Pacifica might exist in a world outside romance, but she could recognize it as easily as she could any other weakness.
“Who doesn’t love him? He’s a living legend. The men here practically worship the ground he walks on. He could kick any of their asses, and they’d thank him for it.” Kaz said with a snort, taking off his sunglasses as if it were a mask.
“How did you know you loved him?” Pacifica asked.
“It didn’t happen all at once. He’s an easy man to admire; I’m sure you’ve noticed it. A powerful man, well-built, easy face to look at. I respected him, and I started to notice everything he did; but, I started to see the things they didn’t. The way he smiled when no one was looking, how excited he got before a mission. God, he could make a cardboard box sound like the greatest weapon in the world. It was easy to fall for him. I knew when I stopped seeing him as a legend and started seeing him as a man.”
Pacifica couldn’t tell what she felt about that. Was it disgust? Repulsion? Fear? It was an ugly feeling curling in her stomach, one she had to fight to reach her face. His words held something alien to her, a passion she couldn’t imagine. There was nothing different about Kaz’s love. Who he loved mattered very little to Pacifica. She was familiar with sexuality as a concept, something she recognized as having no bearing on a person. It was no different than if Kaz loved a woman instead.
But, there was nothing Pacifica hated more than not knowing.
“Paz?” Kaz asked, and for a moment, Pacifica worried that her mask had slipped too far.
“Sorry! The love between the two of you is beautiful. It’s almost overwhelming to think about. I mean, I’ve never felt that way about something, so it’s hard to imagine.” She smiled.
She wasn’t allowed to imagine, but for a moment, she did. In this world where she was free, would she love men? Would she love women? Would she even love at all? Was that an option? Pacifica thought of the women who lived better lives, but were trapped in different cages. Women who were forced to love, who deluded themselves into believing the love given to them was what they felt. Her heart was protected from such pain when her connection to the world was severed, but it would be foolish of her to assume that she was truly safer.
“You don’t have any crushes, do you?” Kaz asked, and Pacifica’s face must have betrayed her as he quickly followed it up with a “You don’t have to tell me. I’m sure you’re still figuring out everything and there’s no pressure.”
There was, of course. Neither of them would have this luxury outside of the base in a world that was unaccepting. Kaz could assure Paz all he wanted, but eventually she would return to a world that would reject her if she didn’t fall in line. Pacifica would never have the chance at any of it. A blessing in disguise, she could imagine, or perhaps an excuse to ignore the way she feels. It didn’t matter. None of this mattered for Paz nor Pacifica. Big Boss had created a heaven for outcasts, but only for the ones who didn’t mind dirtying their hands.
“I don’t think I have time for that. I have studying to do.” Pacifica said in a quiet voice. She wasn’t sure when the mask slipped so much or if it was even there when Kaz pulled her aside.
Pacifica wasn’t sure how she didn’t notice Kaz had set his guitar down at some point, not until she felt both of his hands on her shoulders. Her focus must have slipped, or some part of her must have felt comfortable enough that she forgot she was Cipher’s Trojan horse. Kaz smiled at her, and Pacifica fought the urge to shrink away from him. “You’re still a child, Paz,” He said. “It’s good you’re dedicated, but don’t forget to live too. What’s the point of creating world peace if you never enjoy those moments yourself?”
For just this once, Pacifica allowed herself to think about his words. She wasn’t creating peace, of course, but she had a different mission. An obligation built into her, something the rest of her had been sacrificed to create. She had a duty, one she intended on following through to the very end. But, Kaz had a point; One day, Pacifica would tear down this Heaven they’ve created, and it would only live on in her memories. It would be safe there, because for all Cipher had done to control every part of her, there was little that could be done to control how she felt about this moment. For once, Pacifica thought, why couldn’t she enjoy it? Enjoy her Heaven before she returns to the Hell she belonged to. A part of her knew that this was only a distraction from the mission, but Pacifica couldn’t find it within herself to care. Not yet.
Of course, Kaz had no idea what was coming for him. Sometimes, Pacifica wondered if he did. If, in some way, these acts of kindness were his way of messing with her or some hope that he could convince Pacifica to truly join his side. Would he extend the same open hand to Pacifica as he had to Paz time and time again? There had to be a point where the two of them differed enough that even Kaz would turn his back to her. But, Kaz surrounded himself with men like her. He surrounded himself with men who could only dream of the suffering Pacifica went through, men who saw themselves above her simply for the way they were created. There was no one on this base who hadn’t sinned enough to be rejected from a true Heaven. In war, there are no angels, and somehow, Pacifica convinced them that the blood she spilt was a halo.
“I’ll keep that in mind, Kazuhira. Thank you.” She answered after a moment, and Pacifica couldn’t tell if it was Pacifica or Paz who answered. The difference escaped her so long ago, yet she was still denying it.
Kaz wanted to say more— Pacifica could tell that— but he fell silent. Instead, he picked his guitar back up, strumming the strings a few times as if to force himself to focus on the true task at hand. Somehow, his silence was worse than his chatter. It was easy to forget that Kaz was as dangerous as Big Boss was, that he earned his spot here for the blood he had spilled. Big Boss was her target, but Pacifica knew it would be foolish to underestimate his right-hand man. If at some point, her mask dropped enough to cause suspicion, then Kaz didn’t say anything. Or, perhaps, he saw past the masks of both Paz and Pacifica, at a deeper part of her that she buried with her training. Deep down inside her, there must be a woman who wondered if she could love or be loved despite everything, one who understood herself enough to know if this absence of love was how her heart felt or if it was born from her inability to decide at all. She never had the luxury for such a crisis.
For the first time in as long as Pacifica could remember, she made a choice. Not based on her mission, but on the way her heart felt. She could be neither Pacifica nor Paz but rather something else entirely; something still undefined, almost like a child. It felt as thrilling as her first kill.
This time, when Kaz began to sing, she found herself humming along.