Chapter Text
# Chapter 1
The Section 6 training room was perfectly silent, save for the steady, measured sound of Hoshimi Miyabi’s breathing.
She sat in the center of the mat, eyes closed, legs folded in a flawless lotus position. To a casual observer, the renowned head of Hollow Special Operations Section 6 was deeply immersed in spiritual conditioning, honing her mind to a razor’s edge.
In reality, she was actively hiding from a stack of incident reports Yanagi had asked her to file three hours ago.
She wasn't slacking off. She was simply... preparing herself. Mental conditioning was vital for the trials ahead, and the trial currently weighing on her mind required a level of strategic planning she had never encountered in any combat manual.
It all traced back to *that day* in Lumina Square.
Miyabi vividly remembered the strange, dissociative daze that had come over her—a rare side effect of pushing her senses too far during a sustained Hollow operation. When it happened, her mind practically shut down to reboot, leaving her physically present but mentally adrift, capable only of echoing the last word spoken to her.
Unfortunately, her temporary stupor had attracted a rather intense fan.
A young girl. Civilian. Roughly her age, perhaps slightly older. Nervous posture. Expensive jacket. Bright eyes. Too bright.
“I’ve followed your career for a while. Not in a weird way! I just mean, I really admire you. Your skill, your elegance, your strength… You’re honestly my ideal type.”
*"...Type,"* she had murmured blankly.
“Y-Your type?” she whispered.
The girl had practically been vibrating with excitement, entirely misreading her vacant echoes as breathless mutual interest.
And then, Wise had stepped in.
He hadn't hesitated. He stepped right between her and the overly enthusiastic fan, smoothly placing a protective hand on her shoulder.
*"I'm sorry, but Hoshimi is already seeing someone,"* Wise had said, his voice calm, polite, but utterly unyielding. *"In fact, we're engaged. I'm her fiancé."*
*"...Fiancé,"* Miyabi had echoed automatically.
The fan had stared at them both, utterly heartbroken by the confirmation, before hanging her head and shuffling away into the crowd.
Wise had stayed with her by the noodle stand for two hours after that, patiently waiting until the glaze finally faded from her eyes and she snapped back to reality. He had looked so relieved, immediately fussing over whether she was okay, explaining that she had been standing there like a statue.
*"Hey, it's over now,"* he had said with a warm, easy smile, rubbing the back of his neck. *"Let's get your mind off it. You want to go grab some noodles? Or whatever you want to eat. It's on me."*
What Wise didn't know was that Miyabi had heard every single word of the preceding conversation.
She hadn't expected him to declare himself her fiancé. It certainly wasn't in any of her tactical training. But as her mind had slowly rebooted, analyzing the data, a sudden, undeniable realization had struck her: if she *had* to pick a partner to walk beside her... she would choose Wise.
So, looking him dead in the eye, she had given her answer.
*"I accept."*
Of course, she had meant the engagement. She knew she wasn't ready yet—she lacked the foundational fundamentals of courtship, and she still needed extensive training in the ways of romance—but she accepted his proposal nonetheless.
Wise, blinking in mild confusion, had simply smiled brighter. *"Awesome. Extra pork chashu it is."*
He hadn't understood. But Miyabi was a woman of focus, commitment, and sheer will. A vow was a vow.
Back in the present, the training room doors hissed open.
"Section Chief," a sharp, exasperated voice cut through the silence.
Miyabi opened her eyes. Tsukishiro Yanagi stood in the doorway, a clipboard pressed firmly against her chest, her pink hair framing a face that was struggling to maintain professional patience.
"I notice," Yanagi said tightly, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, "that the preliminary reports for the Ballet Twins sector are still sitting on your desk. Exactly where I left them."
"I am currently engaged in mandatory mental conditioning, Yanagi," Miyabi replied evenly, not shifting from her meditative pose.
"You are meditating to avoid paperwork. Again."
"My focus is required elsewhere." Miyabi paused, her fox ears twitching slightly as she locked eyes with her deputy. "In fact... I have a request. I need to borrow your romance novels."
*CRACK.*
A jagged fissure suddenly spiderwebbed across the left lens of Yanagi’s glasses.
The silence that followed was absolute. Yanagi froze, the clipboard trembling ever so slightly in her grip.
"I—I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about, Section Chief," Yanagi stammered, her usually composed voice pitching up half an octave. A furious blush began to creep up her neck. "Romance novels? Me? That is highly unprofessional and entirely baseless—"
"I require reference material for my upcoming courtship training," Miyabi continued smoothly, completely ignoring the denial. "Specifically, the one you were reading in the breakroom on Tuesday. I believe the title was *The Reincarnated Proxy's Secret Love Cannot Be This—*"
Before Miyabi could finish the agonizingly tropey title, Yanagi crossed the room with terrifying, instantaneous speed.
*Smack.*
Yanagi’s hand clamped securely over Miyabi’s mouth. The deputy’s face was now glowing the color of a freshly ripe tomato, her cracked glasses slightly askew.
"Not. Another. Word," Yanagi hissed, her professional demeanor completely vaporized into pure, unadulterated panic. She looked around the empty room as if expecting an ambush, then glared down at her superior. "How did you even see that?!"
Miyabi merely blinked up at her, waiting.
Yanagi let out a tortured sigh, her shoulders slumping in defeat as she slowly removed her hand.
"Fine," Yanagi whispered furiously, pointing a trembling finger at Miyabi. "Fine. You can borrow the first three volumes. But *only*—and I mean *only*—if those Ballet Twins incident reports are completed, signed, and placed on my desk before sunset. Do we have a deal?"
Miyabi gave a solemn, dignified nod. "Your terms are acceptable."
Yanagi turned on her heel and speed-walked toward the door, muttering under her breath about insubordination and breached privacy.
Miyabi closed her eyes again, a faint trace of satisfaction settling in her chest.
She had secured the training manuals. Her preparations were proceeding flawlessly.
---
The Hoshimi family estate was quiet that evening, lit by the soft amber glow of traditional paper lanterns. In her room, Hoshimi Miyabi sat with monastic discipline at her low table, a romance novel held perfectly upright before her, her crimson eyes scanning each line with the intensity of a general studying enemy battle formations.
She did not skim. She did not skip. She absorbed every word as if it were doctrine.
*Volume One, Chapter Three: The heroine must demonstrate her affection through small, thoughtful gestures.*
Miyabi nodded slowly to herself, committing the principle to memory. A gesture. Small. Thoughtful. Noted. She produced a notebook from beside her and jotted down the tactical insight in precise, militaristic handwriting, right beneath her earlier notes on proper hand-holding etiquette.
This was going well. Her courtship training was proceeding on schedule.
The door to her room slid open with a soft creak.
"Miyabi? You've been holed up in here for hours." Her father stepped in, a tea tray balanced in his hands. He was a tall, composed man, every bit the picture of dignified swordsmanship—right up until the moment his curiosity got the better of his composure. He squinted at the book in her hands. "...What are you reading there? You've barely moved."
"Romance novels," Miyabi answered without looking up, turning a page.
There was a long pause.
"...I'm sorry," her father said slowly, setting the tea tray down with the careful precision of a man who had just heard something his brain refused to process. "I think I misheard you. It almost sounded like you said—"
"Romance novels," Miyabi repeated, calm as still water. "I am studying."
Her father lowered himself onto the cushion across from her, his expression a careful blend of confusion and dawning intrigue. This was Miyabi. His daughter. The same girl who, at age six, had asked for a training sword instead of a doll. The same young woman who treated every aspect of life as another battlefield to master. Romance had never once entered the equation.
Which meant only one thing.
*There's someone,* he realized, his fatherly instincts firing all at once. *Someone has caught her interest.*
He stroked his chin thoughtfully, scrolling through every face he could recall from his daughter's tightly guarded social circle. Section 6 colleagues? No, she viewed them strictly as subordinates and comrades. The Defense Force brass? Absolutely not. He couldn't think of a single soul who had ever managed to slip past her formidable focus...
Save for one.
That young Proxy. The one she'd mentioned more than once—always in that even, unreadable tone of hers, but mentioned *nonetheless*. The boy who ran that video shop. He was the only person who had ever drawn so much as a flicker of personal interest from her.
It had to be him. But a wise father confirms before he assumes—he wouldn't embarrass himself by guessing wrong.
"Miyabi," he ventured carefully, pouring two cups of tea. "This sudden interest in... such material. Would I be correct in assuming there is a particular *reason* for it?" He kept his tone light, casual. "Perhaps someone has earned your attention?"
For the first time, Miyabi set down her book. She turned to face him fully, her expression as serious as if she were reporting a Hollow breach.
"Yes."
His suspicion, confirmed. He allowed himself a small, knowing smile. So it *was* that Proxy after all—
"Wise is my fiancé," Miyabi stated plainly. "I am preparing myself accordingly."
The teapot's spout missed the cup entirely.
A thin stream of hot tea splashed onto the lacquered tray as her father froze mid-pour, his eyes going wide. "Your—your *what?*"
"My fiancé," Miyabi said again, as though stating the obvious. "We are engaged. It is settled."
"*Engaged?!*" He set the teapot down with a clatter before he could spill anything further. He had braced himself—*braced*—for the possibility of a budding interest. A crush, perhaps. The early, fragile stages of something he could gently watch over from a respectful distance. He had assumed, naturally, that his methodical, ever-cautious daughter would approach matters of the heart the way she approached everything else: slowly, deliberately, over many careful months.
Engaged. Already. He hadn't even met the young man over a proper dinner.
"Miyabi, this is—when did this—" He pressed a hand to his forehead, exhaling slowly, trying to recalibrate his entire understanding of the evening. "You've decided this. Just like that."
"I have," she confirmed. There was not a single trace of doubt in her voice. "He is honorable. Dependable. He stepped forward to protect me without hesitation when I could not protect myself." Her gaze drifted briefly to the window, to the distant glow of the city. "If I am to walk beside anyone, it will be him."
Her father studied her for a long, quiet moment.
And slowly, the shock began to melt from his features, replaced by something softer. He recognized that look in her eyes. It was the same unshakable resolve she wore before every battle she had ever won. When his daughter set her mind to something, the matter was as good as decided—and she had never once chosen poorly.
That young Proxy had quite the reputation around New Eridu, after all. A capable one, by every account. If anyone was worthy of his daughter's confidence, perhaps it truly was him.
A warm chuckle finally escaped him as he reached for a cloth to mop up the spilled tea. "Well," he said, shaking his head with a resigned, fond smile. "I suppose if you've already made up your mind, there's little point in a father objecting."
He lifted his teacup in a small, sincere toast.
"Then you have my support, Miyabi. Though I will say—" his smile turned just slightly mischievous "—I expect to meet this young man properly. A father has *some* rights."
Miyabi gave a solemn, dignified nod, already turning back to her novel.
"I will arrange it. After my training is complete."
Her father opened his mouth to ask exactly what *training* she meant—then thought better of it, took a long sip of his tea, and decided some questions were better left for another evening.
Just you wait, Wise.
---
Morning light slipped through the half-closed blinds of the Public Security dormitory, cutting bright lines across Zhu Yuan’s small desk. She sat perfectly still, elbows planted, staring at the open journal like it might bite her.
She had walked into active Hollows. She had faced down armed suspects with nothing but a calm voice and her service pistol. Paperwork marathons didn’t faze her.
But this felt infinitely more dangerous.
Today she was going to confess to Wise.
A soft sound came from the doorway — the faint clink of ceramic. Zhu Yuan didn’t need to look up to know who it was.
Qingyi stepped inside without knocking, as usual. In one hand she carried her favorite insulated cup, steam curling lazily from it. She took a slow, deliberate sip of hot water before speaking, her young face calm and faintly amused in that particular way of hers.
“You’ve been frowning at that same page for twenty minutes,” she said, voice smooth and unhurried. “If you keep at it, the paper might start apologizing.”
Zhu Yuan’s shoulders tensed. “That’s my journal.”
“I noticed.” Qingyi took another sip, eyes half-lidded in quiet contentment. “It was lying open. Very inviting. I simply accepted the invitation.” She drifted further into the room and perched on the edge of the desk with effortless grace. “Page twelve is particularly interesting. All those crossed-out lines… You seem to be wrestling with how not to sound like a fool.”
Zhu Yuan reached over and closed the journal with a soft thud. “We are going to talk about boundaries. Later.”
“Mm. Later,” Qingyi echoed, clearly unbothered. She lifted the cup again. “Though if you ask me, the only real boundary here is the one you keep drawing between yourself and that young Proxy boy.”
Zhu Yuan felt heat rise in her cheeks. She looked away.
It wasn’t supposed to be this complicated.
When she had first learned Wise was a Proxy, everything in her training had screamed at her to pull back. To treat him like the unregulated element he technically was. For a while she had tried. She had kept her distance, turning the facts over and over in her mind, trying to slot him into the neat categories she preferred — black or white, right or wrong.
He hadn’t fit. Not even a little.
The more she watched him, the more she understood what he actually did. The people he quietly guided home from the Hollow. The lives he protected in the places where the law simply couldn’t reach. It had unsettled her at first. Then it had quietly changed her.
It hadn’t lessened what she felt for him. If anything, it had deepened it.
And then there was that conversation on the rooftop weeks ago.
*“Your feelings matter to me, Zhu Yuan. I don’t want any of this to drive a wedge between us.”*
The memory played on loop in her head. The way he had looked at her — earnest, a little awkward, but sincere. She had answered professionally. Kept her face composed. Walked home in a perfectly straight line.
Then spent the entire night staring at the ceiling wondering if that had basically been a confession.
*Wasn’t it?*
Qingyi watched her in silence for a long moment, occasionally lifting the cup to her lips. She didn’t push. She simply waited, patient as stone, like someone who had seen this exact nervous dance more times than she could count.
“You’ve already decided, haven’t you?” Qingyi said at last, tone gentle. “You’re just waiting for your courage to catch up with your heart.”
Zhu Yuan let out a slow breath. “...Yeah. I think I have.”
Qingyi’s lips curved into a small, satisfied smile. She drained the last of her hot water and stood with fluid grace.
“Then let’s not keep the boy waiting too long. The longer you delay, the more you’ll overthink it.” She tilted her head, optics glinting with quiet mischief. “I’ll walk with you. At a discreet distance, of course. Maybe two streetlamps behind. Or three. I’ve been meaning to visit the old man who runs the tea stall near the video store anyway.”
“That’s not a discreet distance.”
“Isn’t it?” Qingyi blinked innocently, already refilling her cup from the thermos she kept in her coat. “The acoustics on Sixth Street can be quite poor. I’d hate to miss anything important.”
Zhu Yuan stood up, shrugging on her jacket. Her heart was beating harder than it did before a Hollow raid, but for the first time all morning the knot in her stomach had loosened just a fraction.
The most dangerous mission of her career had officially begun.
---
The morning air on Sixth Street was crisp, carrying the scent of fresh coffee from the noodle shop and the distant hum of the construction district. For Zhu Yuan, every step felt like a march toward a firing squad. She adjusted her collar for the tenth time, her heart hammering against her ribs in a frantic, irregular rhythm.
"Your pulse is elevated," Qingyi remarked, taking a calm sip of hot water from her insulated cup as they walked. "If it gets any higher, I may have to cite you for disturbing the peace of your own nervous system."
"It's not elevated, Qingyi, it's... focused," Zhu Yuan hissed, keeping her eyes locked forward. "This is a high-pressure situation."
"Mm. Clearly."
They were rounding the corner toward Random Play when a flash of blue and silver caught Zhu Yuan’s eye. Standing near the intersection, looking remarkably out of place among the casual morning commuters, was the Head of Section 6.
Hoshimi Miyabi stood with her usual terrifyingly perfect posture, a small, neatly wrapped package in one hand and a thick romance novel tucked under her arm.
Zhu Yuan’s steps slowed. For a brief second, she thought maybe this was nothing. Maybe Miyabi was on official business.
"Section Chief Hoshimi?" Zhu Yuan called out, stepping closer. "Good morning. Are you heading somewhere?"
Miyabi turned. Her expression was a mask of cold, focused discipline, but her fox ears flicked once in acknowledgment. "Officer Zhu Yuan. And Qingyi. Good morning. Yes, I am. I am heading to the establishment known as Random Play."
Zhu Yuan felt a cold prickle of unease settle in her stomach. "...Random Play? To see the Proxy?"
"To pursue my fiancé," Miyabi corrected evenly.
The world cracked.
Zhu Yuan heard it—an audible, glass-shattering *crack* somewhere deep behind her eyes.
"Your... I'm sorry," Zhu Yuan said faintly, her voice coming out much thinner than she intended. "Your *what?*"
"My fiancé," Miyabi repeated, with the casual finality of a judge delivering a sentence. "We are engaged. I am delivering a thoughtful gesture to advance our courtship." She tapped the book under her arm.
*Fiancé.*
*Fiancé?!*
*How? When? Why?!*
Zhu Yuan’s brain went into complete, catastrophic freefall. She had spent weeks agonizing over her feelings, wrestling with the ethics of falling for a Proxy, building up the courage to just *confess*—and in that time, the single most lethal warrior in all of New Eridu had just swooped in and claimed him?!
*No,* Zhu Yuan thought, her police instincts suddenly warring with her panic. *Wait.*
They weren't married. *Yet.*
There was no ring on Miyabi's gauntleted hand. If they were only in "courtship training," that meant it wasn't finalized. There was still a window. A very small, very dangerous window to break off this so-called engagement. But if she wanted to reach Wise, she had to get past the Void Hunter standing between her and Random Play.
Zhu Yuan leaned subtly toward her partner, dropping her voice to a desperate whisper. "Qingyi. I need a favor."
Qingyi didn’t look at her, simply taking another slow sip of hot water. "That tone of yours rarely leads anywhere sensible."
"Distract her," Zhu Yuan breathed. "Just long enough for me to get to Random Play first. If you do this... I'll owe you one favor. Anything. No questions asked."
Qingyi paused. Her optic sensors slid toward Miyabi, then back to Zhu Yuan.
Provoking a Void Hunter in the middle of the street? Highly dangerous. The property damage alone would require a mountain of paperwork. But... an unconditional favor from the relentlessly upright, rule-abiding Captain Zhu Yuan?
The possibilities for future blackmail were practically endless. It was a golden ticket.
"...How troublesome," Qingyi murmured. A faint, serene smile touched her lips. "Very well."
Qingyi stepped forward, placing herself between Miyabi and the path to the video store.
"Miyabi," Qingyi called pleasantly.
The Section Chief frowned slightly. "Qingyi? Is there an issue—"
"Three."
Miyabi’s eyes narrowed. "...What are you counting?"
"Two."
Behind her, unnoticed, Zhu Yuan bolted down the sidewalk, her boots pounding furiously against the pavement.
Miyabi’s crimson eyes flicked toward the fleeing officer, realization dawning instantly. Her hand drifted to the hilt of her blade. "Interference. I see."
"One."
With a sharp, mechanized *clack*, the sleek baton in Qingyi's hand suddenly snapped outward. The metal segments unfolded and locked into a deadly, flexible three-section staff, gleaming in the morning sun.
"Zero."
Qingyi didn't hesitate. She lunged, her staff whistling through the air in a silver blur.
Miyabi’s blade flashed free on pure reflex. Steel met steel with a deafening, ringing *clang* that scattered the morning commuters in startled panic. Sparks showered over the pavement as the Void Hunter and the Automaton locked weapons.
And down the street, sprinting faster than she had ever run in her life, Zhu Yuan charged toward the neon sign of Random Play.
*Hold on, Wise! Don't you dare get married before I get there!*
---
Zhu Yuan burst through the door of Random Play like a woman pursued by every Hollow in New Eridu.
The little bell above the entrance jingled wildly. Inside, the store was quiet and cozy as usual—soft lighting, rows of tapes neatly arranged, the faint hum of the air conditioner. Wise was in the middle of restocking a shelf near the back, a stack of cases balanced in one arm. Belle sat behind the counter, idly spinning a pen between her fingers.
Both proxies looked up at the sudden commotion.
“Zhu Yuan?” Belle blinked. “Whoa, you look like you just ran a marathon through a Hollow. What’s—”
She didn’t get to finish.
Zhu Yuan’s eyes locked onto Wise like a targeting system. She made a straight beeline across the store, boots squeaking against the floor. Wise barely had time to turn before she was right in front of him, breathing hard, cheeks flushed from the sprint.
He instinctively braced himself, arms half-raised as if expecting an arrest—or a tackle.
Instead, Zhu Yuan grabbed the front of his jacket with both hands, looked him dead in the eye, and blurted out in one breathless rush:
“Wise—I like you! A lot! More than a lot! I’ve been trying to figure out how to say it for weeks and I know this is terrible timing and I’m probably making a complete mess of everything but I couldn’t let— I just— I like you, okay?!”
Wise’s brain short-circuited so hard he nearly dropped the stack of tapes. His face went bright red in an instant.
“W-wait, Zhu Yuan? Right now? I—uh—”
The door to Random Play slammed open again with enough force to make the bell scream.
Miyabi strode in, one hand gripping Qingyi firmly by the ankle. The Automaton was being dragged across the floor like a particularly stubborn piece of luggage, her three-section staff still half-extended and dangling from one limp hand. Qingyi stared up at the ceiling with the serene, resigned expression of someone who had accepted her fate long ago. A few light scratches marked her uniform, but she looked otherwise unbothered.
Miyabi’s crimson eyes swept the room, landing on Zhu Yuan still clutching Wise’s jacket.
“What,” she asked, voice perfectly level and terrifyingly calm, “are you doing with my fiancé?”
The entire store went dead silent for half a second.
Then both proxies exploded.
“FIANCÉ?!” Belle shot up from her chair so fast it nearly tipped over. “When the hell did *that* happen?!”
Wise’s hands flew up in pure surrender, tapes clattering to the floor. “I didn’t— I swear I have nothing to do with this! Belle, I—”
Belle jabbed a finger at him. “You better start explaining right now, big brother, because I am *not* dealing with two angry women and a dragged robot in my store before lunch!”
Wise’s mind raced. Then it clicked.
“Oh—wait! That time in Lumina Square! The intense fan! I only said that to get her off Miyabi’s back! I told her we were engaged so she’d leave her alone. It was just a bluff!”
He looked around hopefully, certain this would defuse everything.
It did not.
Miyabi released Qingyi’s ankle. The Automaton landed with a soft *thump* and continued staring at the ceiling, idly sipping from the cup she had somehow kept upright the entire time.
“I am aware it was a tactical deception meant to deter the civilian,” Miyabi said evenly. “Nevertheless, I accept the proposal. The parameters are acceptable.”
Zhu Yuan finally let go of Wise’s jacket, but only so she could spin around and face Miyabi head-on, shoulders squared like she was about to charge into a Hollow.
“I’m not backing down either,” she declared, voice shaking but determined. “Wise—if you had to pick one of us… then who?!”
Wise’s eyes darted between the two women, then desperately toward the counter.
“Belle? A little help here?”
Belle was already crouched beside Qingyi, checking the scratches on the Automaton’s arm with professional concern.
“You’re on your own, bro,” she muttered without looking up. “Qingyi’s fine, by the way. Just… contemplating the ceiling.”
Wise swallowed hard, hands still raised in surrender as two of the most formidable women in New Eridu stared him down.
This was, without a doubt, the most dangerous mission of *his* life.
---
The silence in Random Play was so heavy you could have cut it with one of Miyabi’s katanas.
Wise stood pinned under the intense, expectant stares of a blushing Public Security Captain and a fiercely determined Void Hunter. He looked left. He looked right. He looked at the floor, briefly considering if a Hollow might conveniently open up and swallow him whole.
None did.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, Wise raised both hands in a universal gesture of *please-don't-kill-me.*
"Okay. Timeout," Wise pleaded, his voice cracking just a little. "I am... incredibly flattered. Honestly. But I am also completely, completely overwhelmed right now. Zhu Yuan, your confession—thank you. Seriously. And Miyabi, the whole... fiancé thing... is a lot to process."
He rubbed the back of his neck, offering them both a helpless, apologetic smile. "Can I just... have some time? To think about this? If you'll let me?"
Zhu Yuan blinked, the adrenaline finally wearing off to leave her acutely aware of how wildly unprofessional she was currently acting. The red spread all the way to the tips of her ears.
"R-right! Yes! Of course!" she stammered, smoothing down her jacket with frantic, jerky motions. "A reasonable processing period. Protocol dictates you need time to review the... the data. I can wait!"
Miyabi’s crimson eyes studied him for a long moment, assessing the situation with clinical precision. Finally, she gave a short, dignified nod.
"A tactical pause to survey the battlefield," the Section Chief agreed. "A prudent strategy. I will grant you this time to mentally prepare for our courtship." She turned toward the door, pausing to look over her shoulder. "But do not make us wait too long, Wise."
Zhu Yuan shot Miyabi a competitive glare before turning back to Wise. "Yeah. What she said. Take your time, but... not *too* much time."
Zhu Yuan stooped down, grabbed Qingyi by the back of her collar, and hauled the Automaton to her feet.
"Come on," Zhu Yuan muttered.
"I expect my favor to be redeemable at my earliest convenience, Captain," Qingyi noted cheerfully, brushing dust off her coat as she was ushered toward the door. "Perhaps a month of unlimited hot water privileges—"
"Get in the car, Qingyi."
The bell jingled merrily as the door shut behind them, leaving the video store in sudden, echoing peace.
Wise stared at the closed door for three full seconds before his knees buckled. He slumped against the front counter, burying his face in his hands as he let out a massive, shaky exhale.
From behind the counter, Belle leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands. A wicked, highly unhelpful grin spread across her face.
"So," Belle started, her tone practically dripping with sibling menace. "Mr. Popular. Who's it gonna be?"
"Belle, please, my brain is melting," Wise groaned into his hands.
"I mean, it's a tough call," she continued, ignoring his suffering entirely. "On one hand, you have the hardcore Public Security captain who broke several traffic laws sprinting here just to claim you. On the other hand, you have the most lethal swordswoman in New Eridu who has apparently already planned your wedding. What a dilemma for our poor, tragic proxy."
"It's not funny!" Wise dropped his hands, looking genuinely distressed. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and dropped into the chair behind the counter. "They're both... they're genuinely wonderful. In completely different ways. And the idea of making a choice that just..." He shook his head slowly. "I don't want to break anyone's heart. These are people I care about. Bonds I've built. That means something to me. I can't just flip a coin over something that matters this much to them."
He sighed softly, looking off into the middle distance. "I don't want to hurt anyone."
Belle stared at him for a moment. Then, very slowly, she began to clap.
"That's actually really sweet," Belle said, wiping a fake tear from her eye. "Beautiful. Truly. A moving speech about the power of friendship and bonds. Ten out of ten, no notes."
She dropped her hands and gave him a flat, deadpan look.
"One tiny problem, though: that whole sweet, sappy speech was completely useless."
Wise blinked. "What? Why?"
"Because," Belle pointed out, gesturing toward the door, "they are coming back in a few days. And when they do, neither of them is going to accept 'the power of friendship' as an answer. You still have to pick one, genius."
Wise opened his mouth. Closed it.
The realization hit him like a freight train. She was right. The clock was ticking, and his diplomatic stalling tactic had only bought him a temporary stay of execution.
He slowly slid down the front of the counter until he was sitting on the floor, surrounded by dropped video tapes, wondering how he was possibly going to survive the week.
---
Days went by.
Wise still didn’t know who the hell to choose.
He had replayed both confessions in his head until his brain felt like scrambled eggs. Every time he tried to pick one, the image of the other girl’s face popped up and he immediately felt sick. Rejecting either of them felt *wrong*.
“Fuck…” he muttered to himself on the third night, lying spread-eagle on the floor behind the counter. “This is actually impossible.”
When the bell above the door jingled four days later, he nearly jumped out of his skin.
Zhu Yuan walked in first, looking stiff and determined, like she was about to deliver an official report. Miyabi followed right behind her, calm as ever, though her fox ears were twitching with clear anticipation. Qingyi trailed in last, sipping her hot water like she was watching a particularly entertaining drama.
Belle, who had been pretending to organize the front desk, immediately perked up with a shit-eating grin.
“Alright,” Zhu Yuan said, voice tight. “We gave you time. We’re here for your answer.”
Miyabi nodded once. “We are ready.”
Wise felt his soul try to leave his body.
His brain short-circuited. All the careful reasoning, all the practice speeches he had rehearsed in the mirror, every smart thing he wanted to say completely evaporated. All that came out was pure panic.
“Both.”
The word dropped like a brick.
Silence.
Zhu Yuan’s eyes went wide. “...What?”
“I choose both,” Wise repeated, his voice cracking. He looked just as shocked as they did. “I—I don’t know! I couldn’t pick one! Every time I tried it felt like I was about to punch myself in the face!”
Belle slowly turned her head toward him, mouth hanging open. Even *she* looked genuinely stunned.
“…You actually went with ‘both’? Holy shit. I didn’t think you’d actually say that out loud.”
Wise kept going, words tumbling out in a desperate, rambling mess.
“Look, you’re both… you’re both really amazing, okay? Zhu Yuan, you—you’re one of the most genuine, honest people I’ve ever met. You ran across half the city just to tell me how you felt. You spent weeks agonizing over your feelings because you cared enough to want to do it right. That means something to me. It means a lot."
Zhu Yuan’s cheeks lit up. She opened her mouth to respond, then closed it. Then opened it again. Nothing came out.
"And Miyabi," Wise continued, turning to her, "you... you took something I said in a bad moment, something I only meant to protect you, and you treated it like a promise. You took it seriously. Me seriously. Do you know how rare that is? You’ve been preparing. Training. Reading—" he gestured vaguely toward her belt, "—manuals. For me. That’s not something I can just brush aside."
Miyabi’s ears twitched again. The faintest, faintest hint of pink touched the bridge of her nose.
"I cherish both of you," Wise said, his voice softening, getting more sincere with every word. "I cherish all the people who’ve stuck by me and Belle since we got to New Eridu. And maybe this is selfish. Maybe it’s stupid. But I’d rather be honest with both of you than pretend I only feel something for one. So if—if—you’ll have me... I want to try. With both of you. Together.."
He finished his speech breathing hard, face burning red.
The silence that followed was painful.
Zhu Yuan slowly brought both hands up to cover her face. The tips of her ears were bright crimson. “That was… that was so sweet but also-…”
"Cringe," Qingyi noted serenely, sipping her hot water. "And yet... effective."
Miyabi stared at him for a long second. A faint but unmistakable blush was creeping across her cheeks. She looked away, one ear twitching rapidly.
“…It was extremely embarrassing,” she muttered.
“But you’re not saying no?” Wise asked weakly.
Miyabi paused. Then, in a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper:
“…Acceptable.”
Zhu Yuan’s head snapped up. "Wait—you’re actually agreeing?!"
"His reasoning is sound," Miyabi replied calmly, though her ears were now very pink. "And his sincerity is genuine. I have no objection."
Zhu Yuan opened her mouth to protest. Closed it. Looked at Wise—still standing there, red-faced, hopeful, and clearly running on no sleep. Looked at Miyabi, calm and resolute. Looked at the floor.
“I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this,” she said, voice strained. “This is insane. But… fine. I accept too. Just—don’t make it weirder than it already is!”
From the counter, Belle started slow-clapping again.
“Wow. My brother, everybody. Couldn’t choose so he just said ‘yes to both.’ Bold strategy. We’ll see how long you survive.”
Wise slumped against the counter, looking like he had just run a marathon.
He had no idea what the hell he had just started.
But at least for now… nobody was mad at him.
Probably.
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**End of Chapter 1.**
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