Chapter Text
Agott had begun to notice it without meaning to.
It started with small things.
The way Coco’s voice lifted when she was curious, light and eager, as though she were leaning toward something only she could see. The way her eyes softened when she was happy, quiet but unmistakable. The way she stilled when something caught her interest, as if the rest of the world had politely stepped aside for a moment.
They were subtle shifts. Easy to miss.
But Agott did not miss them anymore.
And now, standing a short distance away, she watched.
Coco stood near the edge of the clearing, where the stone path curved into the grass. Morning light filtered through the trees, scattering across the ground in uneven patches. A faint breeze stirred the leaves overhead, carrying with it the scent of earth and something faintly floral from nearby growth.
She was looking outward.
Not at anything in particular. Just… away.
Far, far away.
Her posture was relaxed—but not in the way it usually was when she was at ease. Her shoulders had dropped, her arms resting loosely at her sides, yet there was a stillness to her that felt distant.
Like she had stepped somewhere else, leaving only her body behind.
Agott’s gaze lingered.
She did not need to guess.
She knew.
Coco was sad.
Not the kind that cried or spoke loudly, but something quieter. Something that settled in and stayed.
Agott’s fingers curled slightly against her sleeve. Her thoughts moved on their own, turning over possibilities she did not particularly want to entertain.
The recent incidents? The Brimmed Caps? Everything that had followed after?
Or…
Her eyes narrowed just a fraction.
Perhaps her mother… Agott’s thought came uninvited—and it did not sit well.
She shifted her weight, her hand moving unconsciously to her arm as if to steady something inside her. It had been a while since she had said it. Since she had forced herself to say the words she never thought she would.
An apology.
And Coco had forgiven her.
Without hesitation.
Without holding it against her.
Agott did not understand that kind of ease.
The guilt had not left. It lingered, stubborn and quiet, surfacing at moments like this—when she noticed things she wished she had paid attention to sooner.
If she could turn back time—
Agott shut her eyes briefly.
No.
That was impossible. And even if it were not, it would fall under something she would never allow.
Something that should never be touched.
Forbidden.
Her gaze returned to Coco. Still standing there. Still somewhere else.
Agott exhaled. Then she moved.
Her steps were measured, the sound of her shoes against stone soft but deliberate as she approached. She stopped just beside her, close enough now to see the faint shift in Coco’s expression as she noticed her presence.
“Anything on your mind?” Agott asked.
Her tone was casual. Almost indifferent.
As if the question had not taken time to form.
As if she had not been standing there, watching, thinking, deciding whether to speak at all.
Coco turned her head toward her.
There it was again—that small smile. Soft. Familiar. And just a little too quick.
She shook her head lightly.
“It’s nothing big, really.”
Her voice was gentle… though a little distant. “…Just thinking about some things.”
Agott frowned. “You better not be thinking about running off somewhere again,” she said.
Coco’s eyes widened immediately, the reaction sharp and immediate in contrast to her earlier stillness.
“I told you, I did not run off last time,” she said, a mix of panic and disbelief slipping into her voice. “You know the story. I left a note, but it was misplaced because of the black brushbuddy.”
Her words came quickly, nearly tripping over each other in her urgency to explain.
Agott let out a quiet breath through her nose. “That’s not the point.” Her voice was firm, though the edge had softened.
She glanced at Coco again, more carefully this time.
The sadness had not disappeared—but it had shifted. Less distant now. More grounded. And without thinking too much about it, Agott stayed where she was, standing beside her instead of stepping away.
She looked away briefly.
Thinking.
She was not good at this.
Not with words. Not with things that were not direct, measurable, or correct in a clear way. But doing nothing felt worse.
Her fingers curled slightly at her side before she spoke.
“…Then do something else.”
The words came out flatter than she intended. Agott cleared her throat lightly, then added, more deliberately as she looked at Coco,
“If you’re just standing here thinking, it won’t help.”
Coco blinked, then tilted her head slightly toward her.
Agott felt her chest tighten. She looked away again. “…We could do something,” she said, quieter now. “Something… fun.”
The last word felt unfamiliar on her tongue.
Coco’s expression changed instantly.
Her eyes brightened, the earlier weight lifting as if it had never been there at all.
“Oh!” she said, a small beam spreading across her face as she straightened. “Then I’ll call Tetia and Richeh—”
She turned, already taking a step—
Only to stop.
Agott’s hand had caught hers. “…Wait.” Her voice was lower this time.
Coco turned back, surprise and quiet wonder flickering across her face.
Agott did not let go. Her grip was steady, careful—not restraining, just holding on as if letting go would undo something she hadn’t fully named yet.
Her gaze dropped slightly. For a moment, she said nothing.
“…It’s… you know…”
She paused, took a small breath.
Coco stayed quiet, but her slight head tilt made it clear she was listening—waiting.
Agott exhaled. “…It’s just the two of us.”
The words hung there.
She shifted faintly, as if only then realizing how direct that sounded.
“It’s not that I don’t want their company,” she added quickly, more controlled now.
A pause.
Her fingers tightened for a second—then loosened.
“It’s just…” her voice lowered, less rehearsed, more honest than she intended, “…I would like it if it’s just the two of us.”
Silence followed.
Short. But enough.
Coco looked at her. Really looked at her.
Then slowly, she smiled. Not her usual quick reassurance—something softer and warmer.
“…Okay,” Coco said gently.
And she didn’t pull her hand away. Her thumb shifted slightly over Agott’s knuckles, like it had always belonged there.
“So…” Coco tilted her head. “What do you want us to do?”
Agott’s throat tightened.
“Umm…” She glanced away. “Whatever you wanted to do?”
The second she said it, she regretted it. She raised a hand and lightly pressed her forehead.
“…Sorry. I invited you, but I don’t actually have a plan.”
A small laugh slipped from Coco. “As they say, unplanned plans are the best,” she said brightly. “They’re unexpected—but the most memorable ones.”
Agott groaned softly under her breath.
“…That doesn’t make this any less incompetent.”
She exhaled, then tried to recover. “…Do you want to practice spells? Or refine light-circle precision? I found a variation that stabilizes the lines if you adjust the spacing—”
Coco hummed thoughtfully. “Hmmm… that sounds fun,” she said, then smiled, “…but it’s something we usually do together.”
She shifted slightly, then brightened.
“Let’s try something new,” she said. “Something we’ve never done before.”
Agott blinked. Before she could respond—
“Oh! I know.” Coco’s eyes lit up. “Let’s go shopping.”
Agott tilted her head slightly. “…Why? Do you need something from Kalhn? We just stocked up on supplies.”
Coco shook her head quickly.
“No, not that,” she said. “Clothes.”
And just for a moment—
Agott saw it again.
That faint shift behind Coco’s smile as she said that particular word. Quiet. Brief. Something softer and harder to name.
It vanished almost instantly.
But Agott noticed. Her expression stilled.
“…Alright,” she said. “Shopping it is.”
Coco brightened again like nothing had happened.
“It’ll be nice seeing us in different clothes once in a while,” she said. Then, lightly, almost teasing: “Though I bet you’d look good in anything, Agott.”
Silence.
Agott froze.
Heat rushed to her face immediately.
“Wh—what are you—”
She stopped herself. Looked away.
“…Just get your sylph shoes on,” she muttered instead. “I’ll leave a note.”
Coco gave a cheerful thumbs up.
“You’re the best, Agott!”
Agott didn’t answer. But as she turned away, the warmth on her face didn’t fade.
>>>><<<<
By the time they arrived in Kalhn, the air had already shifted.
It always did.
The quiet, measured atmosphere of their atelier gave way to something more alive—voices overlapping in uneven rhythm, footsteps echoing along stone-paved paths, the distant clatter of stalls being assembled and dismantled. The streets stretched wide here, lined with shops displaying fabrics, tools, charms, and all manner of curious objects that invited a second glance if one lingered too long.
Coco stepped forward first—
and gasped.
Her eyes lit up at once as she took everything in.
“Wow…”
Agott glanced at her. She had seen this reaction before. Many times.
Coco had also been here countless times already. There was nothing particularly new about Kalhn that should warrant this level of wonder.
And yet—
every time.
“…You’ve seen this place already,” Agott said, though there was no real reproach in her tone.
Coco did not respond. Or perhaps she simply chose not to.
“Look, look, Agott!” she said instead, tugging lightly at her sleeve with both hands. “Over there!”
Agott followed her gaze.
Across the street, near a cluster of vendors, a suspended display caught the light. Small glass ornaments hung in midair, turning slowly on an invisible axis. Each piece shimmered faintly, refracting sunlight into soft fragments of color that scattered across the stone walls.
Coco leaned forward slightly, eyes wide.
“The lights… they’re floating!”
Agott exhaled softly. “They’re not,” she said. “There’s a support frame.”
Coco blinked. “Huh?”
Agott raised a hand slightly, pointing toward the upper structure of the display.
“Thin threads,” she explained. “Likely reinforced with stabilizing spells so they don’t tangle or snap under tension. The rotation is probably driven by a simple circular inscription along the frame—distributed evenly so the motion stays consistent.”
Coco squinted, trying to follow her explanation as if she could see the invisible structure being described.
Then her expression brightened.
“Oh…”
She straightened and clapped her hands once, softly. “As expected of Agott!”
Agott turned her face slightly away. “…It’s basic.”
“But I wouldn’t have noticed that quickly,” Coco said with an easy smile.
Agott did not respond. Her fingers adjusted lightly at her sleeve where Coco had been holding earlier, as if grounding herself in something physical.
Coco, meanwhile, seemed to remember their purpose. “Oh! Right!” she said, turning back to her. “Let me try to focus on why we’re here.”
Agott raised a brow.
“Clothes!” Coco declared. “Just… normal ones. Casual clothes.”
Before Agott could reply, Coco had already taken her sleeve again.
“Let’s look around!”
And just like that, she was pulled forward into the crowd.
Agott had barely enough time to steady her steps as the space around them filled with movement—people passing in close rhythm, voices overlapping, the hum of the marketplace pressing in from all sides. She let out a quiet sigh.
“…W-wait, Coco.”
But she did not resist. And she followed.
They moved from one boutique to another.
From the outside, each shop looked promising. Bright window displays, neatly arranged mannequins, fabrics that caught the light in subtle shifts. Coco paused at nearly every storefront, eyes scanning eagerly, only to drift inside moments later at the pull of curiosity.
And each time—
the same result.
Robes.
Layered cloaks.
Witch shoes.
Structured garments stitched with quiet patterns that revealed their purpose to anyone familiar with spellcraft.
Even the simplest pieces carried marks—small inscriptions tucked into hems, linings, or seams that guided flow or stabilized casting.
Agott stood near a rack, lightly brushing her fingers across a sleeve.
“…Reinforced stitching,” she murmured. “For durability during spellwork.”
Coco peeked over another display, holding up a dress for a moment before lowering it again.
“…There’s a circle stitched into the lining,” she said, a little disappointed.
Agott nodded. “Probably for temperature regulation.”
They stepped out of the shop soon after.
And into the next.
And the next.
After a while, the pattern became impossible to ignore.
Even in a place as lively and varied as Kalhn, everything still circled back to magic.
Every design carried intent within its construction. Every garment quietly declared its purpose—I am made for a witch.
Not something simply to wear. Not the kind of ordinary, casual clothing Coco had been hoping to find.
Coco slowed slightly as they left another boutique. Her earlier excitement hadn’t disappeared, but it had softened at the edges.
“…Maybe we should have gone to a regular village,” she murmured, more to herself than to Agott.
Agott heard it anyway. “That’s too dangerous,” she said at once. Her tone sharpened before she could soften it. “You know that.”
The words came with weight.
Witches moving through outsider villages carried risk—unpredictable danger, lack of control over unfamiliar environments… and worse, the lingering presence of the Brimmed Caps and their inexplicable fixation on Coco.
At the very least, Kalhn was the closest witch town to their atelier.
Coco turned toward her quickly and shook her head.
“I know, I know,” she said, hands lifting in a small placating gesture. “It was just a wishful thought.”
Agott’s expression didn’t fully ease, but her voice lowered again. “…In any case, we’re in a witch town. Finding what you called ‘normal clothes’ was always going to be difficult.”
Coco nodded quietly.
They walked a few steps in silence.
Then Coco slowed again. Her gaze drifted—not toward the storefronts this time, but somewhere farther ahead, unfocused.
“…If things settle down,” she said softly, almost to herself, “I’d like to take you to my village.”
Agott looked at her.
Coco continued, a faint smile forming as she spoke.
“It’s small. But there are a lot of good places there. Shops too. And…” she hesitated, then added a little more quietly, “…there are things I’d like to show you. About where I grew up. Since… you know.”
Her voice trailed off.
Agott didn’t respond immediately.
The words landed strangely—too simple, too direct, too personal. Something in her chest tightened, subtle but unmistakable, as if it had been caught off guard.
Before she could find an answer—
Coco shook her head quickly, flustered.
“What am I saying?” she muttered, a faint blush rising. “You probably wouldn’t like it there.”
She looked away.
“And you’re a noble, so it might not be up to your standards, or whatever. H-h-how could I bring a noble witch to a village like that…”
Her words slipped into hurried panic under her breath.
Agott let out a small, quiet breath—almost a laugh.
“…Hey,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “You’re overthinking it.”
Coco stiffened a little.
Agott’s gaze softened, just slightly.
“And… what do you mean by ‘standards’?” she added, more gently now.
Coco went still.
Agott exhaled once, then continued—careful, less sharp than before.
“…If you’re inviting me,” she said, “then I’ll accept it.”
A pause.
Then, quieter—
“…If you’ll have me.”
Coco blinked. Her blush deepened almost immediately.
“I… uh…” she stammered. “Okay…”
She nodded quickly, still flustered, as if confirming it would make her composure return. “I’ll… take your word for it.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
They simply looked at each other.
And then, they smiled—small, brief, but real.
And continued walking.
.
.
.
The streets of Kalhn stretched ahead in steady rhythm, each turn revealing another row of shops, another burst of color, another display that promised variety—yet none of which were what Coco had been looking for.
She slowed again, her steps losing their earlier bounce. Still searching. Still hoping.
Then—
“There!”
Agott followed her gaze.
A small boutique tucked between two larger shops. Its sign was less polished, the paint slightly worn at the edges. The window display was different too—lighter fabrics, softer colors, garments that didn’t immediately scream “I am a witch.”
It felt… promising.
Coco was already moving. Agott let herself be pulled along again.
The bell above the door chimed softly as they stepped inside.
The air shifted immediately. Warmer. Filled with the faint scent of fabric dye and something like dried lavender.
Shelves lined the walls, stacked with neatly folded clothes. Racks stood in careful rows, garments arranged by color.
For a moment—
Coco’s eyes lit up again. She moved closer to a rack, fingers brushing lightly over a sleeve.
Then she paused. Her hand stilled.
“…Ah.”
Agott stepped beside her and looked.
There it was again.
Robes. Cloaks. Witch shoes.
Coco lowered the fabric slowly. Her shoulders dropped just a little.
“…It’s another witch dress shop,” she said quietly, unable to fully hide the disappointment in her voice.
Agott exhaled softly, already expecting it. “That’s what this place is built around,” she replied. “It’s not surprising.”
Coco gave a small nod. Still, she lingered a second longer before stepping back. “…I thought this one might be different.”
Then, from somewhere deeper inside the shop, a voice spoke.
“Well, you’re not entirely wrong.”
Both of them turned.
An older woman emerged from behind a curtain near the back, brushing her hands lightly against her apron as she approached. Her hair was tied back loosely, streaked with gray, and her eyes carried the sharpness of long observation.
She looked at Coco first. Then at Agott. Then back again.
“You’re looking for regular clothes… casual attire, aren’t you?” she said.
Coco blinked. “…Yes,” she admitted.
The woman hummed. “I figured as much. You’ve been studying the seams and design more than the spellwork.”
Coco flushed slightly, caught.
“I’m sorry—”
“No need,” the woman cut in, waving a hand lightly. She turned slightly, gesturing toward the back of the shop.
“I do have some,” she added. “Regular clothes. No spellwork, no hidden stitching. Just fabric and thread.”
Coco’s eyes widened. “Really?”
The old woman gave a small nod.
“Not many people ask for them, so I keep them separate,” she said. “Follow me.”
Coco didn’t hesitate. She stepped forward immediately, her earlier disappointment replaced with quiet excitement once more.
Agott followed behind, her gaze lingering briefly on the front displays before shifting toward the back.
The curtain parted.
And beyond it—
something different waited.
The curtain fell back into place behind them.
And the space beyond felt… different.
Clothes lined the walls, but not in the structured, uniform way they had seen outside. These were softer in shape, freer in form. Dresses that flowed instead of holding shape. Shirts that weren’t cut for casting movement. Fabrics that didn’t conceal symbols beneath their seams.
Just cloth.
Just design.
Coco stepped forward slowly at first, then stopped. Her eyes widened as she took it all in.
“…Wow.”
Her voice came out softer than before, almost disbelieving. It had been months—months since she had seen clothing like this.
She turned, excitement returning all at once.
“Can we try them on?” she asked, looking toward the shopkeeper.
The old woman smiled faintly and gave a small shrug.
“As long as you intend to buy, that’s fine,” she said. “No worries.”
Coco nodded quickly. “Thank you, kind ma’am.”
The woman gave a small nod in return before turning and leaving them, her footsteps fading as she returned to the front of the shop.
The moment she was gone—
Coco turned to Agott and immediately tapped her shoulders, light but rapid.
“Agott,” she said, almost whispering but unable to contain her excitement, “what do I do? There are so many I want to try on—and I want to see you in them too.”
Agott blinked.
Once.
Then slowly processed the last part.
“…Calm down, Coco.”
Agott’s voice was steady, though she adjusted slightly under the sudden energy directed at her.
“Well…” she continued, glancing around the room as if to re-anchor herself, “first things first. We should try the ones that actually caught our attention.”
Coco nodded quickly.
“Oh—there!”
She moved at once, weaving between racks before stopping at one in particular.
Her hands hovered for a moment before she carefully pulled out a set of clothes.
Slacks.
Cleanly cut. Structured, but not rigid.
Paired with a light inner shirt and a fitted outer layer—something like a blazer, though simpler in its tailoring. The colors were muted, subdued, yet refined in a way that didn’t ask for attention, but naturally held it.
Agott observed it briefly. “I didn’t know that was your preference,” she said.
Coco turned and shook her head, already holding the outfit up against Agott as if measuring something invisible.
“No. I think this will suit you.”
Agott raised a brow slightly. “…Wha— How?”
Coco paused. Her cheeks tinted faintly.
“I just…” she hesitated, then shook her head as if refusing to explain too soon. “You’ll see. Just try it on.”
Agott stared at her for a moment longer. Then exhaled.
“…Fine.”
There was reluctance in her voice, but she took the clothes.
The fitting space was separated by a simple partition. Agott stepped inside, the curtain sliding closed behind her.
For a moment—
Coco waited. Hands clasped loosely in front of her. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other without noticing.
Then—
the curtain moved.
Agott stepped out.
The fit was precise.
The slacks fell cleanly along her frame, lines straight and deliberate. The inner shirt softened her silhouette slightly, while the outer layer brought everything together with quiet structure.
It wasn’t a witch’s uniform.
It was simply clothing.
And yet—
it suited her.
Coco went still. Completely still. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in the sight.
Agott noticed immediately.
“…What?” she asked.
Coco didn’t answer at first. Her gaze lingered—not wandering, but focused, as if she was seeing something unfamiliar in something very familiar.
Agott’s brow tightened a little. “…You were the one who insisted I try it on. Say something.”
Still nothing.
“…Coco.”
That finally pulled her back.
Coco blinked. Then, softly—
“…It suits you.”
Agott narrowed her eyes slightly. “That’s all?”
Coco hesitated. Then looked at her again properly.
“As I thought,” she said slowly, searching for the words, “it makes you look…”
She stopped. A faint flush crept up her cheeks.
Agott waited.
“…More you,” Coco finished at last.
Silence settled.
Agott frowned slightly. “…What does that mean?”
Coco blinked, then looked away. “I don’t know if I should say it,” she admitted quietly. “What if it sounds strange…”
Agott let out a small breath through her nose.
“…Try me.”
Coco hesitated again, fingers fidgeting slightly.
“Well…” she began, glancing up for only a moment before looking away again, “…you look… proper. But not stiff. And it’s not like your uniform, but it still feels like you. I mean… you’re already pretty, but with that outfit you looked…”
She paused.
Then, quieter—
“…Cool.”
Another pause.
Her voice dropped just a little more as she finished—
“…h-handsome.”
Agott blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Her mind didn’t quite process it at first.
Then it did.
And the heat rushed up her face almost immediately, spreading across her cheeks in a way she couldn’t stop.
Coco noticed right away and panicked.
“I-I’m sorry, that was weird to say, wasn’t it?” she said quickly, waving her hands slightly. “Did I offend you?”
Agott cleared her throat, looking away as she tried to steady herself.
“N-no,” she said, a little too fast. Then, quieter, almost uncertain, “…do you really think so?”
Coco nodded at once.
“Yes.”
No hesitation. No second thought.
Agott stilled. That answer came too easily. Too honestly. Her gaze shifted back to Coco, something unreadable passing through her expression.
Then—
before she could properly stop herself—
“…More handsome than Tartah?”
The words slipped out.
Flat. Unfiltered.
Coco blinked. “H-huh?”
Agott froze. Her own words caught up to her a heartbeat too late.
Immediately—
she shook her head.
“N-no—forget that!”
Without allowing herself another second of thinking, she grabbed a dress from a nearby rack and pushed it into Coco’s hands.
“Just try this on,” she said quickly.
Coco stared at her for a moment. “…But what you just said—”
“Coco,” Agott cut in, firmer now, though still slightly strained, “just try it on.”
Coco blinked again. Then slowly accepted the dress.
“…O-Okay.”
She turned and headed toward the fitting area.
The curtain fell closed behind her.
Silence settled.
And the moment she disappeared—
Agott brought a hand to her face.
“…What was that,” she murmured to herself.
Her voice was barely audible. Her cheeks were still warm—no, it had settled into something steadier now, persistent. She pressed her palm lightly against her face, as if that alone could reset her composure.
Why did I say that? Why did she say that?
Agott exhaled slowly through her nose.
“…Calm down,” she told herself.
Inhale.
Hold.
Exhale.
Again.
Steady. Measured.
It was just a conversation.
Just Coco being Coco.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing—
The curtain rustled.
Agott’s head snapped up.
Coco stepped out.
“Ta-da~” Her voice was light, almost playful.
Agott went still again.
The dress suited her too easily.
Soft fabric, simple cut, falling naturally with her movements. Nothing ornate, nothing structured—just something that moved with her instead of shaping her. The color caught the light gently, softening everything it touched. It didn’t try to define her.
It simply fit. It complemented her.
Coco adjusted the hem slightly, then looked up.
“How do I look?”
Agott swallowed. Her throat felt uncomfortably dry. She had picked it without thought—just something to redirect the moment, something safe.
And yet… it suited Coco in a way that felt almost unfairly natural.
“…Agott?” Coco called again, tilting her head slightly. “Well?”
Agott blinked. The heat returned immediately.
“…It’s…” she started.
Then stopped.
Her eyes flickered away for a moment, then back again. “…It suits you,” she said finally, quieter than intended.
Coco leaned forward just slightly.
“Hmmm?” she hummed. “That’s it?”
Agott inhaled.
Then exhaled.
Her gaze dropped, and she closed her eyes briefly, as if bracing herself.
“…It looks…”
Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.
Then—
“P-pretty.”
The word came out sharper than intended. Almost as if it had slipped out before she could catch it.
Agott’s eyes snapped open.
Coco blinked.
Then, slowly, her expression softened into something similar—caught, surprised, faintly flustered. A light blush rose across her cheeks.
Agott cleared her throat quickly and straightened her posture.
“…It looks pretty on you,” she corrected, quieter now. More controlled.
But she still couldn’t quite bring herself to look directly at Coco.
And yet—
she didn’t look away either. She didn’t want to.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Agott’s gaze, which she had been trying so carefully to steady, lingered just a little too long.
Coco stood there in the soft fall of the dress, meeting it.
Quiet.
Unbroken.
Something in the air shifted—subtle, but unmistakable.
“…Coco, I—”
“…Agott, I—”
The curtain at the back shifted.
“Well? Have you decided?” The shopkeeper’s voice cut cleanly through the moment.
Both of them turned a little too quickly.
“Y-yes!” Coco answered at once.
“Y-yes, we have,” Agott followed, a beat later, straightening as if to reset herself. “We’ll take these,” she added, gesturing toward the clothes they had chosen.
The old woman raised a brow, clearly noting the abrupt change in atmosphere, but said nothing.
“Good choice,” she said simply.
Coco nodded a little too quickly. “Yes, they’re really nice—”
“And practical,” Agott cut in.
A pause.
“…For casual wear,” she added, slightly too firmly.
The shopkeeper gave a faint hum and turned to prepare the purchase.
Coco slipped back into the fitting area first, and Agott followed soon after.
When they stepped out again, they were back in their usual attire—witch robes, cloak, hat.
The clothes they had chosen were neatly folded and wrapped, tied securely before being handed over.
Agott handled the payment.
Coco held the package.
“Thank you very much,” Coco said with a small bow.
The shopkeeper nodded once. “Come again.”
As they walked once more through the streets of Kalhn, the town remained as lively as before.
Nothing had changed.
And yet—
something had.
They walked side by side.
Not as close as earlier, but not distant either. Something unspoken rested between them now—quiet awareness where there had been none before.
Coco adjusted her grip on the package slightly.
Agott glanced ahead.
Then briefly to the side. They walked in comfortable silence until Coco spoke again.
“Thank you, Agott,” she said warmly.
Agott turned to her almost immediately.
“I know you’re doing this just to cheer me up,” Coco added, looking at her with an easy, gentle certainty. “So… thank you.”
Agott’s heart gave a small, unmistakable skip.
“I… I didn’t do it especially for you,” she said quickly. Then, after a beat, added more carefully, “I just… wanted to go shopping.”
Coco giggled softly. “Alright. If you say so.”
They continued walking.
The afternoon light stretched across the road, casting long shadows that moved with them.
And though neither of them spoke again—
both carried the same quiet thing forward.
A small, lingering warmth that refused to fade.
>>>><<<<
By the time they returned to the atelier, the sky had already begun to soften into evening.
The familiar quiet of the place settled around them, a contrast to the noise and movement of Kalhn.
They barely made it a few steps inside—
before they were noticed by Tetia, Richeh, and Master Qifrey.
Coco leaves all the explaining to Agott. Agott is the smarter and more capable one when it comes to speaking properly and making excuses. They don’t want Tetia and Richeh to know that they went strolling in Kalhn just the two of them. Agott reasons that they might misunderstand and get hurt feelings.
But Coco believes they would understand—if anything, Tetia and Richeh would probably just tease them. And from there, Coco realizes something… maybe Agott mainly wants it kept secret so she can avoid being teased.
Agott does not want to be teased after all.
.
.
.
Dinner came and went as it usually did, and later that night, the room settled into quiet, the usual signs of nightfall arriving.
The soft rustle of fabric.
The faint creak of wood.
The small, familiar sounds of preparing for sleep.
Coco lay down first, pulling the covers over herself.
Agott followed shortly after.
The lights were put out.
Darkness filled the room.
For a moment—
there was only silence.
Then—
“So umm…” Coco’s voice came softly from under the covers. “Good night, Agott.”
Agott shifted slightly on her side. “…Good night, Coco.”
Her reply was quieter than usual.
And then—
silence again.
Brief.
Before—
“Let’s go there again.” Coco’s voice, softer now, almost hidden beneath the blankets. “Next time… let’s wear those clothes while strolling out there.”
Agott turned slightly toward her voice. Even in the dark, even with the space between them, she could almost picture Coco’s expression.
That same brightness.
That same excitement.
“We’ll stick out like a sore thumb,” Agott replied, her tone returning to something more logical, more familiar.
Coco giggled. “We’ll blend in just fine.”
Agott hummed. Not fully convinced, but not rejecting it either.
“…Alright,” she said after a moment. “Tomorrow then.”
A pause.
Then Coco’s voice came again, softer this time. “Are you sure? I’m not interrupting your study or practice sessions, am I?”
Agott hesitated. “…W-well…”
She paused.
Thinking. Weighing it properly. She had planned to practice some spells tomorrow, but—
“…I can make time.”
The words came out steady. Simple. But in her mind— I can make time for you.
Coco let out a small, satisfied hum. “Alright, if you say so. Tomorrow then.”
A pause.
Then—
“Good night again, Agott.”
Agott didn’t turn this time. She only gave a quiet, affirmative hum in response.
But her expression—
hidden in the dark—
was anything but calm.
Slowly, she pulled her blanket higher. Then shifted, pressing her face into her pillow.
As if that alone could cool the warmth lingering across her cheeks.
Sleep did not come immediately.
And she knew exactly why.
>>>><<<<
Morning light had already settled over the atelier when Coco and Agott began preparing for their planned trip to Kalhn.
Luckily, Tetia and Richeh were busy with outdoor practice sessions assigned by Master Qifrey, and Master Qifrey himself was occupied supervising them.
It should have been simple.
Coco was already halfway through packing, moving with an energy that hadn’t quite faded since the day before. Every so often, she glanced toward the doorway, as if the idea of leaving was already pulling her forward.
Agott, on the other hand, worked more methodically. She checked supplies, straightened small tools, and mentally ran through what they might still need. Routine work. Familiar enough to keep her grounded.
“Do we need anything else?” Coco asked, holding up the small bundle of clothes they had bought.
Agott shook her head once. “That should be enough.”
Coco smiled. “Then we’re ready—”
A knock came from the entrance of the atelier. Both of them paused.
A figure stood there, casual but deliberate.
Tartah.
Coco’s expression shifted immediately.
“Oh,” she said. “Tartah.”
“Good morning. I hope I’m not interrupting, but may I speak to you, Coco?” he said.
Agott watched that reaction carefully.
Coco stepped forward slightly. “I’ll speak with him for a bit,” she said, then turned back toward Agott. “Wait for me, okay?”
The words were light. Simple. But it left something in Agott feeling complicated.
Agott’s brows furrowed slightly.
“…Alright,” she answered.
Coco nodded, then stepped outside with Tartah.
The door closed behind them.
And the space inside grew quieter.
Agott stood still for a moment longer than necessary. Then she resumed her chores.
At first, it was fine.
She cleaned. Organized. Adjusted things that didn’t need adjusting.
Time passed in small, measurable pieces.
But Coco did not return.
Agott paused once.
Looked toward the door.
Nothing.
She continued working. More time passed.
Still nothing.
The silence shifted—not loud, but noticeable now.
Agott exhaled softly through her nose.
“…It’s just a conversation, Agott,” she told herself quietly.
She kept working.
Another pause. Another glance toward the entrance.
Still no sign of Coco.
Her hands stopped before she realized it. She stood there for a moment, staring at the same spot she had already checked twice.
Something in her chest tightened faintly. She set the cloth down carefully. Then moved toward the entrance and stepped outside.
The path nearby curved gently around scattered greenery and stone, leading toward a quieter stretch not far from the building.
Voices carried faintly ahead.
Agott slowed.
She did not announce herself. Did not call out. She simply followed the sound until it became clearer. And then she stopped. Partially hidden by the bend of the path, she could see them.
Coco and Tartah stood close enough that their conversation didn’t carry far. Their voices were low, folded into each other’s space rather than reaching outward.
Coco wore a neutral expression. Tartah said something Agott couldn’t quite hear.
The conversation shifted. Coco smiled briefly at something he said. Then returned to listening.
Quietly.
Then—
a soft sound.
Coco’s small laugh.
Agott did not move.
She should have stepped forward.
She should have called out.
She should have turned back immediately.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she stayed where she was.
Watching.
Something unfamiliar pressed against her chest again.
Unclear.
Unwelcome.
It made her breathing feel slightly uneven, as if she had missed a step she didn’t notice she was climbing.
Coco leaned in slightly as she replied to Tartah.
Another soft laugh followed.
Agott’s fingers curled at her side.
For a moment, everything else dulled.
The atelier. The trip. The morning plans.
Even sound felt distant.
Then—
she stepped back.
Turned.
And walked away.
Far from the atelier. Far from Coco and Tartah.
And most of all, away from whatever this feeling was that she could not name.
And still—
even as her feet carried her farther, Agott could not tell what exactly she was trying to escape.