Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

‘We’re in the big fat negatives, Chief,’ Faye said with a smile on her face.

It wasn’t funny. At all. How could Faye still smile at the MBCC’s financial situation when it was so dire? ‘You wouldn’t happen to have some DisCoins in those,’ Chief nodded at the metal crates behind Faye, ‘would you?’

‘This is the supply office, not the bank,’ Faye said. ‘We’ll be needing about 300,000 DisCoins to repair all the damage that the mania induced duck rebellion has caused.’

‘300,000…’ Chief murmured, blood running cold.

‘The cafeteria and the kitchens were totally annihilated. It’s not a matter of simple repairs and cleaning. There are pipes and wiring that need to be completely redone among other things. The duckies are also out of action and resting up. Medical said that they won’t be able to work for a long while, which means we’ll have to pay for extra labour to keep things running too.’

The doors to the depot slid open. Heels clicked on the floor.

‘We’ll have to take out a loan, then,’ Chief said.

‘Ummmmm, we can’t.’ Faye tilted her head, and Chief could see her reflection in Faye’s sunglasses.

‘Why?’

‘We haven’t paid off the other ones yet, and literally nobody will let us take out a loan with them right now. Unless you want me to contact some shady people, that is.’

Chief stared at the countertop that Faye leaned on. The light on the cash register flashed as if laughing at their predicament. Just how did they end up in a situation like this? A duck attack. Sounds as ridiculous as it was. And before that they’d had a raid on their storage facilities, before that a generator had exploded, taking out the neighbouring ones, and before that… Is the MBCC cursed? Chief wondered.

The clicking sound of heels drew nearer, and Eirene strode into view. ‘Excuse me for overhearing, but might I provide a suggestion?’

‘Oh, hey,’ Faye said. ‘Been waiting for you.’ Faye had been speaking to Eirene quite often ever since Chief had approved of her visits to discuss business related matters. The supply office has been tripling its profits ever since.

‘What do you have in mind?’ Chief asked.

‘You could simply start a business to make the money you are lacking,’ Eirene said.

‘That’s easy to say, hard to do,’ Chief said. ‘And what business could the MBCC get into to make a large amount of money in a short time? Selling vegetables at market stalls isn’t lucrative, and we can’t have anybody doing any of the illegal jobs on the dark web. The safe commissions don’t pay well either.’

‘You have a much easier option.’

‘Which is?’

‘You.’

Faye hit her palm with the side of her fist. It annoyed Chief a little that Faye understood what Eirene was saying while Chief was still left in the fog of confusion.

‘All we have to do is turn you into a licensed franchise, Chief,’ Eirene said as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

Chief blinked.

‘That’s genius.’ Faye bounced on her feet. ‘Make Chief into a franchise and watch the money roll in!’

Chief frowned. ‘Wait, what?’

Chapter Text

‘A kissing booth?’ Chief stared blankly at Faye.

‘Yup!’ Faye replied, beaming. ‘We don’t have the funds to build an amusement park or to film any blockbusters, so we’ll have to start small.’

Chief glanced at Eirene who had her arms folded, finger on her chin, thinking.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Chief said. ‘We need to take this seriously.’

‘But I am serious, Chief,’ Faye said, both hands on the counter. ‘This is one of the best ideas I’ve had in a long time.’

‘You’ve never had good ideas, Faye. Remember that time when you got the cafeteria to cook up the extra tentacles that you didn’t have the storage space for?’ The mass food poisoning had been a nightmare.

‘It’s not bad as a starting point,’ Eirene said. ‘A kissing booth.’

Chief’s jaw dropped. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’ She couldn’t believe Eirene–business savvy, clear-headed, intellectual Eirene—was approving of Faye’s outrageous proposal.

‘Hostess and maid cafes make plenty. There’s certainly something to consider in selling a service.’

‘See?’ Faye’s smile widened. ‘I told you it was a good idea.’

Chief sighed. ‘No, Faye. And Eirene, please don’t—’

‘Oh my God.’ Faye became serious.

Did she finally realise how terrible her idea is? Chief wondered.

‘What Eirene said! We could totally make you into a hostess.’

‘No.’

‘And we could even get the other Sinners to work with you. Open up an entire club.’

‘No.’

‘Okay, I get it. You prefer the maid cafe, don’t you?’

‘Faye.’

‘I think something along the lines of a rent-a-Chief service may be more profitable,’ Eirene said.

‘A what?’ Does she mean like a cleaning service? Maybe I could do that. It doesn’t sound too bad compared to all these other suggestions.

‘Ohhhhh, you mean like rent-a-girlfriend but instead it’s Chief?’ Faye was leaning over the counter to the point where she looked like she was hovering over it. How she hadn’t fallen was a mystery. ‘That’s so smart, Eirene!’

Chief gulped. ‘No, no, no. You two are coming up with the worst ideas in history.’ The fear began to creep into Chief’s soul. If she didn’t get this conversation under control, she was sure that these two women would have the kissing booth set up in less than a jiffy. Eirene always said that time is money. She did things fast. And Faye? Faye was unpredictable, chaotic, and downright terrifying in her own way.

‘But I think these are really good, Chief,’ Faye said. You could almost hear a pout in her voice. ‘Hang on.’ Her serious face came back.

‘I don’t even want to ask.’

‘What is it?’ Eirene prompted.

Chief closed her eyes in resignation, knowing that Faye wasn’t going to listen even if she tried to stop her.

‘What if,’ Faye said. ‘Just what if.’ Her eyes were sparkling behind her sunglasses.

‘Spit it out, Faye,’ Chief said. She’d had enough and wanted this to be over with. The sooner this silly brainstorming session finished, the sooner they could get back on track and come up with sound ideas.

‘What if we just sold Chief?’ Faye screeched with all the excitement of a child finding chocolate cake.

Chief frowned. ‘Like… sell my organs?’

‘Ugh, no, Chief. We’re not that barbaric. We need you intact to keep your job here. Those Shackles are important, and we do quite like having you around, y’know.’

‘Prostitution, then?’ Eirene mumbled. Her eyes were set on a spot far away as if she was genuinely considering what she’d just said.

‘What the fuck?’ Chief couldn’t believe she was awake right now. This had to be some messed up dream–no, a nightmare.

‘Well, now that you mention it…’ Faye hummed. ‘I guess prostitution isn’t entirely incorrect?’

‘Excuse me? I’m right here.’

‘But I was thinking more like selling her time and having her perform tasks,’ Faye continued.

‘So we’re back to the rent-a-Chief idea,’ Eirene said.

‘Yeah, it’s probably safer. We don’t have to think about the legality or the moral, ethics, and whatever issues.’

‘Chief, you mentioned selling organs,’ Eirene said. ‘A human can live with a single kidney, and they are purchased for a good price. If we could have every person at MBCC part with one of them, we’d–’

‘No.’ Chief’s voice came out flat, tired.

‘I heard that corneas sell for a lot,’ Faye added. ‘Losing an eye might give you depth problems, but you can still survive.’

‘We’re not selling body parts,’ Chief said.

‘Okay, okay.’ Faye deflated. ‘Y’know, it’s kind of a shame that we need you around, Chief. I’m sure we could cover the cost for repairs and more if we just auctioned you off. So many people want you dead, but then, so many of your fans want you alive too. It’d be interesting to see which side wins the bidding wars.’

‘I don’t want to ever find out.’

‘But just imagine! Will those who hate chief and want to skin her alive get their filthy hands on her,’ Faye said in a dramatic voice. ‘Or will her loving fans with their pure–or not so pure–intentions lay claim on the beloved Chief of MBCC!’

‘Selling Chief is not an option,’ Eirene said.

‘Thank you.’ Finally, someone was speaking some sense.

‘For now,’ Eirene finished.

And of course, Chief thought.

‘Okaaay,’ Faye said, laying down onto the counter. ‘What a shame. So, uh, what are we deciding on? I forgot what we came up with. Prostitution? Is that it?’

By now, Chief had given up entirely on trying to direct the conversation. She leaned her back onto the cold wall, next to the counter, as Faye and Eirene continued to chat.

A few minutes later, Faye poked her head past the counter. ‘Hey, Chief! Thoughts on what we’re discussing?’

‘No prostitution. No selling body parts.’

‘We’re past that already,’ Eirene said, brow raising. ‘Keep up.’

Chief breathed in deeply. She only just realised that the air in the supply depot smelled of gunpowder and… ‘Why does it smell like apples?’

‘We’re storing some fruit here since the kitchens don’t exist anymore,’ Faye said. ‘Don’t worry. I keep them away from the explosives. Food is with the mania crystals instead.’

‘That can’t be safe.’

Faye shrugged. ‘They’re contained. Still edible.’

‘What we were talking about,’ Eirene said.

‘Ah, right, right.’ Faye put her hands on her hips. ‘We’re going to start with something simple, Chief. Something that won’t freak you out.’

‘Like, buy-a-ticket-to-take-a-photo-with-me kind of thing?’ It felt strange to even suggest it. Chief wasn’t a celebrity or anything. Even if she was, she’d never make anybody pay to take a photo with her.

Eirene didn’t need to speak to let Chief know that her idea was bad. She simply shot Chief an unimpressed look.

Seriously? Chief rental, organ black market, and prostitution didn’t get a single reaction out of her, but this did?

‘No, Chief. We have something much better in mind,’ Faye said, adjusting her sunglasses.

Chief fished out her phone from a pocket of her grey coat and dialled for help.

‘Yes, Chief?’ Nightingale answered.

‘Nightingale, come pick me up. I’m scared,’ Chief said with an emotionless voice.

‘What’s wrong? Where are you?’

‘Supply office. Faye and Eirene are thinking of selling organs or forcing me into prostitution or something. I don’t even know anymore.’

‘I’m on my way. Prepare for extraction.’

Chapter Text

When Chief had been picked up by Nightingale, the adjutant had berated Faye and Eirene for their outlandish ideas and for disregarding Chief’s opinions. If this was a high school setting, Nightingale would be the upstanding kid protecting Chief from the bullies. Chief often found herself relying on Nightingale in and out of the MBCC. If fate was real, Chief would like to thank fate for bringing this wonderful teal-haired woman into her life.

‘Ashy—I mean, Chief! Why are you just standing there?’ Bianca skipped towards Chief in the photography studio. ‘Go get changed already.’

‘Why? I’m only here to observe the photoshoot and make sure everything goes well.’

‘But you’re supposed to be the model for the calendar. Didn’t Faye tell you?’

Chief blinked. That little…

‘C’mon, hurry up, Chief!’ Bianca pushed Chief towards the changing area which was really just the corner of the room with several privacy screens set up. ‘Get chaaanged.’

‘Wait, Bianca…’ It was impossible to resist Bianca’s strength. She was a Sinner after all, but even if she wasn’t, Chief would still struggle against those mini biceps gained from carrying a heavy camera all the time.

‘We’ve got all sorts of costumes for you.’ Bianca began to riffle through the outfits that hung on the two clothes racks. ‘Look at this. Isn’t it cute?’ She held up a sailor uniform with a short skirt.

‘I don’t think that’s my style…’ Chief was sure that the sailor uniform wasn’t an official school uniform. But she didn’t know which was worse: the fact that it lacked cloth or that it had suspicious looking seams.

Bianca looked at the uniform and pouted. ‘Aw, I wanted to see you in it.’ The disappointment disappeared as soon as it came, and she perked up instantly. ‘Okay, but how about this one?’ Bianca pulled out a white summer dress with lace trim.

Chief scrutinised it. ‘That looks fine.’ It looked like a normal dress, and Chief hoped that it was just a nice normal dress. ‘Hold on. Spin it around.’

Doing as ordered, Bianca flipped the dress around.

Of course. Chief inwardly groaned. ‘That’s too much, Bianca. There’s literally only crisscrossing ties all the way down.’

‘Isn’t that the point? It’s a summer themed photoshoot.’

‘For the entire MBCC calendar?’ They were going to have summer themed photos for every month of the year? Even December? When it was going to be Christmas?

‘Yeah, and look at how pretty it is! If you’re worried about how you’re going to sort out the back, just get in, and I’ll lace you right up! I have dextrous fingers. You can trust me to do a good job.’

‘It doesn’t even cover the butt!’

‘It’s okay. You have a nice butt, Chief.’ Bianca gave a thumbs up and a grin.

‘That’s not the point.’ Chief could feel herself getting warm. She wasn’t sure if it was caused by the embarrassment or the annoyance.

‘Your ass is nice and can sell. Faye told me to make it the star of the show.’

I’m going to have to speak to Faye. Chief put her hands on her hips. ‘My butt isn’t even anything spectacular. Stop focusing on it like a pervert.’

‘Hey, hey, don’t you dare,’ Bianca said, brows drawing together in an adorable way.

Chief sighed. ‘I’m sorry that I called you a pervert.’

‘That’s not the problem.’

‘It isn’t?’

Shaking her head furiously, Bianca shoved the clothes back on the rack. ‘You can’t be mean to your butt like that. It works so hard for you, y’know? Your butt helps you balance when you bend over, and it’s literally like a portable cushion. Can you imagine how awful it would be to sit on just bones? Like, ouch.’

‘Um…’

‘You gotta appreciate your butt, Chief. You can’t take it for granted! Some people don’t have butts at all.’

‘What?’ Chief was confused. She could barely follow what Bianca was saying. Was this reporter here angry because Chief didn’t treat her own butt kindly or something? It’s not like Chief was bullying her own behind, but why did it feel like she was getting told off by Bianca about it?

‘Treat your butt well, Chief!’

‘O… kay? Sure.’

‘You’ll regret it one day if you don’t.’

‘Uh, right.’

‘I mean, have you seen Bai Yi’s butt? It ran off somewhere, and now she’s suffering because of it,’ Bianca said, shaking her head.

‘It ran off? What?’ Bianca was getting harder and harder to understand. Did she drink too much apple juice today?

‘Yeah, you should have seen the state of it. She got me to airbrush and warp her butt in the recent profile photos. The full body ones.’ Bianca’s eyes turned teary. ‘I felt bad, so I did it. Seriously, it’s so sad. I hope she gets a butt soon.’

‘But what do you mean by “it ran off”? How can a butt run away?’ The mental image Chief had was one where two butt cheeks detached themselves, grew tiny arms and legs, then dashed away from the owner.

‘Well, she used to have a little bit of an ass. I don’t know what happened, but, like, it just disappeared one day, and now she relies on photo editing software or physical bum pads.’

It was probably best to let this topic drop. Chief had a feeling that she wouldn’t get any closer to understanding what had happened to Bai Yi’s butt.

‘So! That’s why you gotta appreciate your butt, and be thankful for it. Got it?’

‘Right.’

‘Let me hear it.’

‘Hear what?’

‘You getting along with your butt.’

Chief would have concluded that Bianca was drunk, but because it was Bianca, it was hard to tell. Her usual personality could be described as inebriated or high on life.

‘Go on, Chief,’ Bianca said, folding her arms. ‘We’re waiting.’

‘We’re?’

‘Me and the butts. We’re waiting.’

What in the black rings is going on? Chief wondered. Maybe I’m the one who’s drunk? She’d only had coffee and water all day. Could it be the effects of caffeine on an empty stomach and the lack of sleep mixed in?

‘Chief.’

‘All right.’ Chief drew in a deep breath and couldn’t believe she’d be saying her next words. ‘I like my butt.’

‘Praise it.’

‘It’s a good butt.’

‘Damn right. More.’

‘It’s a great butt that helps me get through the day.’

Bianca gestured intensely with her hands. ‘More! Louder!’

‘I love my fabulous butt!’

Deren popped her head into the changing area. ‘I love your confidence, Chief.’

Bianca nodded, and Chief felt herself flush hot when reality hit her, and it hit her hard. She wanted to dig a hole—no, she wanted to ask Eirene to summon one of her black holes and enter it right now. She imagined disappearing into the vortex, devouring her shame. Goodbye. Don’t look for me. I’ll be fine.

‘Which is whyyy,’ Deren smiled her lazy smile and produced a swimsuit with a flourish, ‘I got this for you.’

The bikini—if it could even be called that—was two pieces of grey string and three patches of material. None of the patches looked bigger than an eyeball.

‘No,’ Chief said, folding her arms.

‘But I even took the effort of finding it in a colour that matched your uniform,’ Deren said.

‘No.’

‘It’ll show off all your good bits, Chief!’ Bianca’s eyes glittered.

‘That’s precisely why I’m saying no.’

Bianca pouted. ‘But you’ll look so hot in it.’

Deren fingered the swimsuit. ‘Ugh, I put in so much effort to go get this. Can’t you at least wear it once? I promise you’ll look—'

‘QUACK!’

All three of them turned towards the sound.

‘QUACK QUACK QUACK.’

‘QUACK QUAAAAACK.’

‘QUACK? QUACK QUACK.’

The ducks had arrived and seemed to be confused with why the room was empty.

‘Thank God, they came,’ Chief muttered, exiting the changing area to meet up with MBCC’s worker ducks. They were a little bigger than normal ducks and bright yellow. Their loud quacking was sometimes intimidating, but after getting used to it, Chief thought they were rather cute. These ducks helped out around the base. The three who had just arrived wore supply office uniforms—blue overalls. Chief had recruited them as soon as she’d heard of a possible photoshoot. She was glad for her own foresight.

‘QUACK!’ The ducks greeted.

‘Thank you for coming,’ Chief said.

‘QUACK.’

Chief introduced the ducks to Deren and Bianca as the ones who had caused a riot within MBCC months ago. They’d been affected by the mania somehow, but Chief had suspected it was more than that. What was truly in these ducks’ hearts? Did they want to overthrow the MBCC? Chief didn’t know. But for now, the ones who had recovered enough from their injuries were making up for the damage they’d caused by doing extra work whenever they had a slow day at the depot. Today, they’d been requested by Chief to help out with the photoshoot.

‘We can handle the lighting,’ Bianca said. ‘I can’t take photographs as well as Lynn does, but I’m still good with cameras even if I’m not recording.’

‘Oh, they’re not here for that.’ Chief smiled, briefly noting that if Faye had managed to convince Lynn to help instead of Bianca and Deren, then the dull throbbing pain growing in Chief’s temples likely wouldn’t exist. ‘They’re here to model.’

‘What?’ Deren and Bianca said at the same time.

‘QUACK QUACK!’

Within minutes, they’d gotten the ducks in swimsuits of the respectable kind and had them standing on the cyclorama that was the backdrop of the set. The lights trained on them were bright, but the ducks didn’t seem to mind. With their props of surfboards and beach balls, the ducks of the MBCC sold the summer look. They had astonished Chief, Deren, and Bianca with how professional they were. Bianca had even asked if they had previous modelling experience, to which the ducks had replied with several loud quacks.

In the end, Chief had been convinced by not just Deren and Bianca, but the ducks as well to take part in the shoot. She took a glass of watermelon juice to use as a prop and stood there. No pose, unless you considered standing doing nothing a pose, which it certainly was technically, wasn’t it? She was wearing a purple bikini. A normal bikini that covered up a normal amount of skin around the privates. Surely this was enough effort. She was showing skin for the sake of the MBCC. Oh, wow, this feels like I’m one step closer to selling myself... Should I be concerned?

‘This is going to sell so well!’ Bianca yelled as her camera shutter clicked rapidly. Seeing some of her earlier shots had proved that she was indeed skilled with not only recording footage, but photography as well. Must have been from part of her journalism training. ‘We’ve got cute ducks, hot butts, and a yummy Chief!’

‘You certainly look yummy, Chief,’ Deren said from the side. She was lazing in a director’s chair and had been giving the ducks instructions all day.

‘So yummy! Like, drool worthy, lemme-worship-at-your-feet yummy.’

Deren smirked. ‘I’m not Cabernet, but I could eat you right up.’

Chief had long since learned to keep her face neutral. She stared at the glass of watermelon juice she held and wondered how much more of this she’d have to withstand before the repairs could be fully paid for.

It was after a few minutes when Deren spoke again. ‘Why are you frowning, Chief?’

‘How are we going to fund printing this calendar, exactly?’ It had just occurred to her that she’d forgotten about needing to pay upfront.

‘Crowdfunding, right?’ Bianca said.

‘I thought you had investors.’ Deren yawned. ‘Faye’s got it covered already.’

‘Wait, investors?’

‘Probably Eirene or Chelsea if I had to take a guess,’ Deren said. ‘Or maybe it’s what Bianca said, crowdfunding.’

Bianca examined the photos on the small camera screen. ‘Does it really matter? That’s Faye’s job, right? Getting it funded and stuff. Wait! Do you think there’s something dark going on?’ Her eyes lit up. ‘Do you want me to investigate?’

‘I—no.’ Chief sighed. ‘Never mind.’ Crowdfunding or investors was fine for Chief. Better not to get Bianca started on some non-existent trail of injustice. The girl doesn’t need more fuel to do anything crazy.

But Bianca was right with the sales. The calendar preorders had surpassed their initial estimates five fold. Faye had advertised it as the one and only MBCC calendar where you could see adorable ducks, through all twelve months of the year, and Chief in a bikini. There was also the added bonus of butts.

People seeing Chief in a bikini did not worry her. It wasn’t like they’d taken indecent photos. There were no close-ups of her at suggestive angles. In fact, the only shot of her used for the calendar was for December’s image. The photo showed her standing with a glass of red juice in her hand. She was hard to spot being no bigger than a thumbprint in the background where the ducks took centre stage and showed off their adorable—covered up—butts. What Chief was worried about was the complaints of false advertising and possible refunds.

Chapter Text

Chief startled at a hand laying on her shoulder. The blue holographic display above her desk stared back at her as Nightingale stepped closer.

‘Chief,’ Nightingale said. ‘Are you all right?’

‘I—yes. I’m fine.’ The dream Chief had been enjoying had dissipated into thin air. It was a shame that their insurance didn’t actually cover damage caused by ducks like it did in dreamland.

‘If you’re tired, you have time to catch a short nap.’

‘You’re suggesting I nap during work hours?’

‘It’s currently lunch break, Chief.’

‘Oh, right.’

‘I would recommend that you get whatever rest you can before your appointment with Shawn and Eleven.’

Right. There was that. Why did so much revolve around money? The amount of stress those who were not rich had to deal with because of money just wasn’t fair. What would it be like to not think about the price of goods and services in life? Someone should interview all the rich Sinners and get back to me on that.

‘Chief?’ Nightingale stepped closer to the desk.

‘Hm?’

‘You’ve been zoning out a lot lately. Please take my advice and rest a little.’

‘Knowing that I have a recording session in,’ Chief glanced at the clock on the holo screen, ‘twenty minutes, I’m not sure I can sleep.’

Nightingale sighed. She didn’t look annoyed but maybe a little sad for some reason. She gets upset whenever Chief is running herself ragged, but by now, Nightingale should know that Chief would be fine.

‘Don’t worry. I’ve survived kidnappings and assassination attempts,’ Chief said, trying to be reassuring. But it only brought a frown to her adjutant’s face.

Nightingale placed her tablet down onto the desk with a clack and returned with a blanket.

‘I’m really fine.’ A yawn betrayed Chief by escaping from her mouth.

‘Even if you don’t fall asleep, resting your eyes can help you recharge somewhat.’

Chief recognised that look in Nightingale’s eyes. It was determination mixed with worry. Worrying your adjutant more than you should wasn’t a very Chiefly thing to do now, was it? ‘Okay,’ Chief said, accepting the blanket. When Nightingale gave her a small smile, Chief wondered why she didn’t agree to resting sooner.

#

‘I’m not saying that,’ Chief said, arms folded and giving Shawn, leaning on the wall, a blank stare.

‘I thought you wanted to make some money, baby. Making a girlfriend experience audio would do just that.’

Shifting on the couch in the recording studio, Chief glanced at Eleven who sat opposite her. Eleven only offered a smile. Chief shouldn’t have hoped for support in this small room. ‘I can’t sell my soul to make the MBCC their repair fees, Shawn.’

‘It’s not selling your soul,’ Shawn said. ‘It’s just a bit of acting. You don’t even have to act it out with your body, just your voice.’

‘Can’t do it.’

Shawn sighed. ‘This is the only script we have prepared, sweetie.’

‘Can you please stop calling me baby and sweetie?’ The terms of endearment from Sinners who were not close enough to use said terms of endearment with Chief were pissing her off.

‘Okay, how about cutie? Or babe?’

‘That’s not—’

‘Chief,’ Eleven said, holding a thin stack of paper. ‘It’s true that this girlfriend experience script is the only thing we have. Faye said we didn’t need anything else.’

Chief closed her eyes to stop herself from rolling them. Faye again. I’d just scolded her for the photoshoot last week... ‘I guess I won’t be recording anything, then. I’ll leave the audio product to you two.’

The two Sinners began to grow panicked, trying to convince Chief to stay.

Chief narrowed her eyes at them. ‘What’s going on?’

‘What?’ Shawn and Eleven said at the same time.

‘You’re up to something.’

‘No, we’re not.’ They were in sync again.

Chief raised a brow.

‘Okay, okay,’ Shawn sighed. ‘We were just looking forward to your performance.’

‘Right,’ Eleven agreed.

Chief stared at them and the silence dragged on. The two Sinners in front of her began to squirm under her scrutinising gaze.

Eleven was the first to break. ‘Faye said that we could get some upgrades for this studio after your girlfriend audio is up for sale.’

Chief sighed.

‘Sorry...’ Eleven said, fingers fidgeting with the script.

Chief continued to stare at them.

‘It’s the truth,’ Shawn said, glancing away.

More silence.

‘Should we get started?’ Eleven tried.

‘What else?’ Chief asked.

There was an audible gulp from Eleven, and Shawn couldn’t meet Chief’s eyes.

‘What else?’

It was Eleven who answered. ‘Faye said...’ She glanced at Shawn who had her eyes trained on the mixing console and it’s hundreds of buttons and sliders behind her. ‘She said that we could probably get you to say some lines that weren’t on the script without you knowing.’

‘And what would you do with those lines?’

‘Keep the audio for ourselves...’

Chief sighed again, heavier. If she had a DisCoin for every one of her sighs, she’d make a good amount to put towards the repairs.

‘We’re sorry,’ Eleven said. ‘We just really like your voice, and we thought that a girlfriend script would be much more interesting than the motivational one I had initially prepared.’

‘Wait, what did you say?’

‘That we like your voice?’

‘No, the thing about the motivational thing.’

‘Oh, I wrote a partial speech that I thought would suit you. Encouraging and motivating people felt like something a chief would do. Most of it was just bullet points, though. I thought it’d be better to leave room for improvisation.’

‘Can I see it?’

Eleven swivelled in her chair, pulled open a drawer, and handed Chief a printed piece of paper with a long list of bullet points.

‘This doesn’t look too bad,’ Chief said, scanning down the outline of what seemed to be a speech about getting up on time, eating on time, sleeping on time, and beating laziness on time. ‘I think I can do this.’

Eleven and Shawn exchanged a look.

‘Then let’s get recording,’ Shawn said, guiding Chief to the microphone on the other side of the glass that separated the recording area from the control room where Eleven stayed in.

Ten minutes into recording, and Chief felt like she was in her element. Girlfriend audio? Yeah, no. She couldn’t and wouldn’t ever be saying cheesy lines of that nature. But she could totally do her own version of Chief-of-MBCC-drill-sergeant-mother.

‘No lazy Sinner is a Sinner of mine,’ Chief stated harshly with her hands on her hips. ‘I don’t work my ass off for you to laze about and skip training! If you don’t work hard, you shouldn’t eat. Have some respect for yourselves and your fellow comrades who you could endanger on missions...’ And the recording continued for a good hour in this fashion.

‘Who will marry you if you’re lazing around all day? You have to give your all if you want me to marry you!’ Wait, what did I just say? Chief was on autopilot by this point. As soon as her eyes read a line of the notes on the stand in front of her, her brain would choose the relevant words, and her mouth would spit them out without a pause.

Shawn and Eleven who observed her performance through the window didn’t react. Chief took that to mean that everything was fine and normal.

The next line of notes mentioned speaking about qualities in a partner that Chief would find attractive. Made sense. A hard-working person who had a good head on them were qualities that Chief would need in a significant other. She said so into the pop filter positioned in front of the microphone, then frowned. Wait, how is this supposed to motivate anybody? This isn’t some reality show where they’re looking to get with me.

The next line of notes were not notes but written dialogue that she could say word for word. These had popped up earlier. Things like ‘If you don’t hydrate, Flora will come douse you with her hose,’ and ‘Are you looking to disappoint the MBCC staff more than you already have? It’s time to take some responsibility and change yourself.’ Totally normal.

‘I’m not the type who will love anybody, but when I’m yours, my heart will beat only for you.’ Wait. ‘The fuck?’ Chief mumbled to herself.

Shawn slapped a button. ‘Great job, Chief!’ she said immediately. Her voice came through on Chief’s headphones.

‘You’re doing fantastic,’ Eleven added.

‘I think you’re going to need to remove what I just said.’ Chief folded her arms.

‘Let’s keep going,’ Shawn said. ‘We’re almost done.’

‘There’s not much left now, Chief.’ Eleven smiled. ‘The sooner we get this finished, the—'

‘Hold on.’ Chief checked over the printout in front of her, slowly and carefully this time. Some of the dialogue lines near the bottom of the list of bullet points read:

*whisper* I like you... more than just a friend, more than just a chief.

and

You’re so warm, pressed up against me like this. *breathing sounds*

‘Um... honey?’ Shawn said.

‘Don’t honey me.’ The sheet of paper crinkled in Chief’s tight grip. ‘The last section of this motivational script is literally just a girlfriend roleplay!’

Shawn shook her head. ‘Actually, it’s more of a friends to lovers scenari—’

‘This isn’t motivational at all!’

‘I’m confident in my writing abilities for audio,’ Eleven said, frowning. ‘I can promise you that these lines are extremely motivational to not just the Sinners here but many MBCC staff as well.’

‘Look, just,’ Chief sighed, ‘just delete whatever I said last, and we’ll end this here.’

‘Why not finish it?’ Shawn asked. ‘You’re almost at the end. Professionals shouldn’t leave a job incomplete.’

‘I’m not a professional when it comes to—’

‘That’s all right,’ Eleven said, smiling. ‘We’ll just use what we have.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Ending on “when I’m yours, my heart will beat only for you,” is quite exciting. Almost like you’re teasing us,’ Eleven said with a giggle.

‘Wait, no. I said delete that.’

‘We can’t.’ Eleven looked apologetic. ‘Everything we’re recording today is directly transferred to Faye. She’ll have the original audio even after I edit everything.’

And that means that Faye will definitely add that line back in whether I allow her to or not because that’s just the type of person she is. Chief pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. ‘Dear God,’ she whispered to herself. She could feel her soul leaving her body.

‘Don’t worry, sweetness,’ Shawn said. ‘You did good. I know I certainly enjoyed your performance.’

Imagining hundreds of Sinners and MBCC staff hearing her say such embarrassing words had Chief flushing warm.

‘I think you could have pulled off the ear licking script we thought about,’ Shawn mused.

‘The what?’

‘It’s not as difficult as you think,’ Eleven said. ‘I have a mic that’s in the shape of a head, so all you’d have to do is, quite literally, lick the ears.’

‘Wha—’

‘Want to give it a try?’ Shawn asked, excitement gleaming in her eyes.

‘Hell no!’

Chapter Text

Chief entered the storage room that had been converted into an art studio for the purposes of saving the MBCC from crippling debt. At the centre of the room stood Enfer’s sculpture, yet to be unveiled, covered with a large white cloth. Enfer had greeted Chief by the entrance and made small conversation as Lisa and McQueen bickered next to the veiled art piece that was as tall as Chief.

‘I never thought we’d have a magnificent sculptor like you help us with making merchandise, Enfer,’ Chief said. She’d noticed a bunch of dirty tools on a table in the corner. Enfer must have worked hard. ‘The MBCC really appreciates it, thank you.’

‘You’re very welcome. I had fun working on it.’ Enfer smiled. ‘It’s quite different from my usual style, so I’m a little nervous, especially since you’re here.’

‘You’re a sight for sore eyes,’ McQueen said, turning to Chief. ‘But as much as I enjoy your beauty, I’m dying to see this.’ She nodded to the sculpture. ‘Can we get a glimpse of it now?’

‘Are we not waiting for the adjutant?’ Enfer asked.

‘Nightingale’s stuck on a phone call with someone from 9th,’ Chief said. ‘She’ll be here later. And I don’t know if Faye is coming, so why not?’

‘All right, then.’ Enfer took a handful of the cloth and tore it off with a flourish.

Huh? Chief’s eyes bulged.

Lisa stepped back to take in the sculpture, and McQueen observed the artwork by walking around it.

‘What do you think?’ Enfer asked.

‘I… I’m not thinking,’ Chief said, staring at a life-sized statue of herself that had been carved from marble. Why am standing I naked with a single piece of cloth to cover my privates? Is this why she had me model for her in a bikini when she made her notes, sketches, or whatever? Now that I think about it, why was that needed in the first place? ‘Um, Enfer?’

‘Yes, Chief?’

‘The pose is quite interesting as well as the lack of attire,’ Chief said slowly, eyes glued to the replica of herself that looked as if it would come alive any second now.

‘I didn’t want to have you in your usual uniform that we see you in all the time.’

‘So you chose to have me literally out of it?’

‘Only to emphasise the forms of your body.’

‘I’m not exactly buff or anything, though. And it’s not like I have giant boobs or a big butt, so what is there to emphasise?’

‘Come here, Chief,’ Enfer said, guiding Chief with a light touch on her back. They stepped closer to the artwork. ‘Do you see the curves here in the arm?’

‘I see my lack of musculature.’

Enfer shook her head. ‘No, no. You may not be muscular, but you were a joy to sculpt. A chiselled form can be interesting to chisel out.’ Enfer smiled at her own words. ‘But a body like yours requires more subtlety—a finer hand, almost. Less angular forms except where the bony landmarks are, more soft edges. I had to be gentler with you.’

‘Subtlety? I thought you were talking about emphasis earlier.’

‘It’s both.’ There was a blush on Enfer’s cheeks. Either she had a thing for Chief—no, no. She just had a thing for art.

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Of course you don’t,’ Lisa said, having made her way over. ‘Enfer’s sculpture is far superior to many artists of today, and yet you fail to appreciate her skill.’

‘I just don’t really understand why I’m not wearing clothes here.’

‘She told you.’ Lisa shot Chief a glare.

‘Right, forms, uh, emphasising stuff, and subtlety. I don’t really get how that equals nudity?’

Lisa rolled her eyes. ‘Surely you can at least appreciate the amount of detail in this sculpture? Or is even that too much for that small uncultured brain of yours?’

Chief scanned the statue. ‘It’s… The hair is good.’

Lisa’s eyes grew colder than they’d been.

‘All right, all right,’ McQueen said, Stepping between them. ‘Give my dear a break. Chief spends most of her time staring at tiny letters on all that paperwork, maybe it’s ruined her eyesight a bit.’

‘Not your dear, and are you saying I’m blind?’ Chief frowned. All these terms of endearment made her wonder if McQueen was related to Shawn. ‘I’m—’

‘For once, you might be right, McQueen,’ Lisa said, then turned to Chief. ‘Get your vision corrected.’

‘Wha—’

The double doors slid open behind them.

‘Heeeey!’ Faye jogged in. ‘Can’t believe I’m late to the party! Whoa, would you look at that.’ She leaned her face close to the statue, almost touching. ‘The tendons are so good. It’s crazy. And are those fucking veins? WHAT.’

Enfer chuckled at the sight of Faye shoving her face into all the nooks and crannies of the marble.

‘I mean, you even managed to make our physically unfit Chief look like she has a body of a goddess,’ Faye said.

Excuse me? Chief thought. I passed my physical exams! Okay, maybe I was close to failing them, but I hadn’t slept for days. Still, I passed.

‘Chief may be a little lacking in the fitness department,’ Enfer said, trailing her fingertips up Chief’s arm to rest on her shoulder, ‘but she has a wonderful body hidden away under all these layers of clothing.’

Faye hummed. ‘But like this?’

‘Chief’s hot,’ McQueen said, receiving a sneer from Lisa.

‘This hot?’

McQueen smiled. ‘Have you seen her—'

‘Please stop talking as if I’m not here,’ Chief said, mortified at being present for such a discussion. Talking as if she wasn’t there was getting all too common now. Was it too late for an image change? If she could be as intimidating as Shalom, Chief was sure everyone would take her seriously.

‘Okay.’ Faye was bouncing on her feet. ‘I especially like how the energy just flows through this pose even though she’s literally only standing. You’re insane, Enfer.’

‘Why, thank you.’

‘Hmph, at least someone’s not blind,’ Lisa said.

Chief, feeling awkward, licked her dry lips. For some reason, every time Lisa spoke, Chief felt like she should apologise even if she wasn’t sure what exactly it was that she’d done wrong.

‘So, are we going to mass produce these?’ Faye asked, hand on her chin, stroking an invisible beard like she was a sage of some sort. ‘Orrrrr, do you think we could fetch more money by auctioning it, limited edition, no duplicates in DisCity?’

‘Hold on,’ Chief said. She didn’t want a semi-nude life-sized figure of herself to be displayed in public or private. She didn’t want anybody to own such a thing at all. It felt like she was being violated. ‘We’re not selling this.’

‘What?’ Faye gripped Chief’s shoulders. ‘Why? I—we need the money! Repairs!’

‘Yes, but—’

‘She’s right,’ Nightingale said, having just arrived.

‘See?’ Faye said. ‘I’m—’

‘Chief’s right,’ Nightingale clarified.

‘Aw, c’mon!’

Chief sighed in relief now that backup was here. Thank God for Nightingale. If Chief didn’t have a reliable adjutant like her, she’d have gone insane a long time ago.

‘This sculpture is indecent,’ Nightingale said.

Enfer, Lisa, and McQueen frowned.

‘I didn’t intend for it to be indecent,’ Enfer said.

Lisa tilted her head. ‘If a bit of skin and an appreciation of the human form makes this indecent, then you obviously cannot understand art, adjutant.’

‘Eye of the beholder,’ McQueen said. ‘What a person sees in a piece of art can reveal a lot a lot about the viewer.’

Nightingale ignored their comments. ‘Selling this would not only affect Chief’s reputation but also the MBCC’s. It’s not happening.’

‘But it’s been made already!’ Faye protested running to the left of the statue. ‘Enfer’s hard work will go to waste. Just look at this beauty. See these folds here? And how the cloth looks like it’s caught in motion? A-and’—Faye ran to the right side—‘look at this perfect elbow.’

‘No means no, Faye,’ Nightingale said.

‘But she’s even got the shiniest, smoothest, juiciest butt cheeks!’

‘What?’ Nightingale and Chief said at the same time.

‘Please just come look at it fir—’ Faye was circling to the back of the sculpture when she tripped on her own feet. She dived forward and grabbed hold of one of Chief’s marble butt cheeks. ‘Holy shit. This is fate. The butt saved—’

The artwork tilted from Faye’s weight. It seemed to fall slowly at first, and the occupants of the room had all stepped forward as if to try to catch it, but by the next second, the marble came crashing down so hard that the sound of destruction slammed into their eardrums.

They stared at the sculpture of Chief split into multiple pieces on the floor. Her two butt cheeks, pristine and unharmed, stared back at them.

McQueen stepped towards the butt that had been broken off of the statue. ‘I actually don’t hate this. It’s quite beautiful, in its own way, as just the hip and the shiny cheeks, don’t you think?’

Chief could see the money signs flashing in Faye’s eyes and knew nothing good was about to come out of her mouth.

Faye grinned. ‘We could sell them as multiple pieces and as part of a series. It’ll get them fighting over the collection like limited edition trading cards!’

‘No,’ Nightingale said before Chief could.

Faye spluttered, then grabbed Nightingale’s wrist and pulled her towards the mess on the floor. ‘I’m telling you. You need to look at this. Behold these fabulous butt cheeks, and you’ll understan—’

A crack.

A crack in the butt crack.

The room was silent as they stared at the small fissure that had just appeared in the marble.

‘We can sand that off, right?’ Faye said.

Lisa huffed a sigh, turned on her heels, and swiftly left the room without a word. She’d likely had enough of whatever was going on. It was understandable. Chief had wanted to leave since her first day of employment here at the MBCC.

McQueen crouched down to inspect the damage. ‘Maybe I should replicate it before—’

The crack grew, slithering down between the middle of the butt cheeks.

‘Oh dear,’ Enfer said. She sounded more amused than upset that her creation had been destroyed, and now even the cheeks of the buttocks were about to have a divorce.

‘Nonononono.’ Faye got onto her hands and knees, her face nearing the breaking butt.

Half a minute passed where the crack did not widen even after having grown the entire length of the chunk of marble.

‘G-glue?’ Faye’s voice was full of desperation. ‘We can save—’

The butt cheeks split apart and fell away from each other.

‘Well, I guess that’s that,’ Nightingale said.

Chief sighed in relief.

‘A shame,’ Enfer said. ‘But sometimes art is not meant to be. Perhaps this experience was art itself.’

McQueen hummed. ‘How lucky that I was one of the few who managed to see such a  magnificent display. I can’t wait to tell Lisa about how she missed the historical event of The Splitting of Chief’s Butt.’

‘Excuse me?’ Chief was appalled at McQueen’s naming sense.

‘It was a sight to behold,’ McQueen said.

‘Highly enjoyable,’ Enfer added.

Faye was silent.

‘Are you all right, Faye?’ Chief asked, finally nearing the wreckage. It had been strange to see a marble version of herself earlier, but it was stranger still to see a version of herself in pieces. It was unnerving. ‘Faye?’

Faye rose and dusted her knees off. Then without a word, she exited the room.

‘Think she’s going to be okay?’ Chief said.

‘She’ll be fine,’ Nightingale answered. ‘I bet she’s already thinking about what else she can manufacture to make a profit.’

‘Yeah...’ Chief stared at the pieces on the floor. ‘Y’know, I actually kind of forgot that Enfer made artistic sculptures.’

Enfer raised a brow.

‘Sorry, I was maybe expecting something cuter. Like those small chibi figurines they were selling of Zoya.’

Enfer chuckled. ‘I could sculpt you like that if you wish.’

The doors slid open and Faye charged in, right up to Enfer’s face, and grabbed the sculptor’s hands. ‘OH MY GOD. GENIUS. I KNEW YOU WERE A MASTER SCULPTOR BUT YOU’RE ALSO A GENIUS GENIUS. WE SHOULD MAKE THOSE. NENODOROIDS SELL SO WELL. WE SHOULD MAKE CHIEF NENDOS. OR BETTER YET, WE START OUR OWN ORIGINAL SERIES SO WE DON’T HAVE TO RELY ON ANYONE BUT OURSELVES.’

Chief wasn’t sure how Faye had heard them in the studio after she’d left, but instead of questioning it, Chief had to comment on something much more important. ‘I was the one who suggested it.’ They say give credit where credit is due, so why was Chief not getting said credit for her brilliant idea?

Letting go of Enfer’s hands, Faye began to pace the room while muttering to herself. ‘We could have various versions of Chief. A whole host of different outfits. Maybe we’ll have a survey to see which ones are most popular...’

‘She seems fine,’ McQueen said, watching Faye.

‘Sounds fine, too.’ Enfer nodded.

‘I think your idea to make cute figurines is great, Chief,’ Nightingale said.

‘Thanks...’ Chief was drained. She glanced at Faye. The two shiny butt cheeks were already forgotten, but just in case, Chief retrieved the cloth that had originally hid the sculpture from view and covered her injured self lying on the ground with it. Even her marble clone needed some modesty.

Chapter Text

You are flat on the ground, the grey sky your only view, as a chill seeps into your bones. Your extremities are going numb. How much blood have you lost in the last minute? The burning hole in your abdomen is excruciating. Damn that corruptor. You’d handled the sixteen of them on your own, but it was the seventeenth that got you. The bastard slipped right past and tore a chunk out of your flank as you pushed Chief out of the way.

Chief.

Is Chief—

‘Hang in there!’ Chief kneels at your side. She flings off her coat, searches your wound, and attempts to staunch the bleeding with the garment.

‘Are you all right?’ Your voice sounds unlike you. It sounds weak.

She shoots you a look that says: Are you serious right now? You’re the one bleeding out.

‘It’s okay,’ you tell her. ‘You—’ A cough wracks your body, and the searing pain turns lighting sharp with each shake.

‘Don’t speak. Help is on the way.’

‘You… you should go.’

Chief hushes you gently.

‘I can’t protect you if…’ You notice you’re getting sleepy. ‘If there are other enemies, I can’t…’

‘Don’t worry about that. Focus on yourself.’

The concern that fills Chief’s eyes squeezes your heart. Why did you have to cause problems for Chief? You want her safe and happy, not brimming with tears. ‘I’m… sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise.’ She fingers her coms device. ‘Please hurry,’ she yells into the receiver, then mutters, ‘Shit. Why aren’t they here yet…’

‘Chief…’

‘Shh, focus on breathing.’

Right. Your breaths are getting shallower by the second, and maybe focusing on breathing was the smart thing to do, but you had something more important to deal with. ‘Chief, listen.’

She holds your gaze and continues applying pressure to your wound. You’d like to tell her to stop because she’s wasting her energy. You are unlikely to survive this. But saying such a thing will anger her, and, even worse, upset her.

‘I…’ Oh no. Why can’t you speak? Where’s your next breath? You need just enough. Please. You draw in as much air as you can. You need it. Desperately. You can die afterwards. But you need this—to tell her. ‘I love you.’ It comes as a whisper, but it’s clear, and you’re glad.

She blinks. Her tears fall on your face, and you smile at having completed your mission of confessing. But your heart hurts at the sight before you. You really suck. To have made Chief cry, what an asshole you are. Sorry, you think. But I had to tell you.

‘You’re an idiot,’ Chief says, tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘You’re such a fucking idiot.’

And you feel your eyelids droop downwards. It’s time, you think. I’ve had a good run.

Before your consciousness fades entirely, you see Chief’s blurry figure lean down, and you feel the softest of sensations on your lips. I’m lucky to have met you, Chief.

~~~

‘Raven,’ Chief said, slamming a stack of paper onto the Sinner’s desk. The books shook and threatened to fall off the edge of the table.

‘It’s good, isn’t it?’ Raven smirked. ‘My writing skills are simply unparalleled.’

‘You can’t be writing me like this.’

‘What, I can’t put you into reader-insert stories?’

‘That. And you can’t be writing me being in love with a random Sinner. You wrote me kissing them as they were dying!’

Raven looked thoughtful for a moment, and the bird—a raven—on her shoulder cocked its head. ‘You’re right.’

‘I… I am?’ Chief was surprised that Raven had agreed so easily. Finally, there was a someone who understood her at MBCC, and it wasn’t Nightingale. How miraculous. How refreshing.

‘I can’t believe I didn’t realise.’

‘It’s okay. I understand how you lot can get ahead of yourselves, especially when you’re passionate about something.’

Raven nodded. ‘Yes… yes...’ She hummed to herself.

‘Um, Raven?’

She snapped her fingers, eyes widened. ‘It needs more spice.’

‘More what?’

‘You were absolutely right, Chief. I couldn’t just have you kissing the dying Sinner. That would be too boring. It needs to be more spicy.’

‘Raven. I am not making out with a Sinner while they’re dying.’

‘Of course you’re not.’

‘What do you mean, then?’

‘You’re not, but story-Chief will. We have to give the readers what they want. Clothes must come off—at least partially.’ Raven began pacing her cell. ‘The problem is where do I change the story. Do I sprinkle in the spice before the grave injury or after?’

‘Raven, the Sinner is dying.’

‘That doesn’t matter,’ Raven said, waving a hand in dismissal. ‘You didn’t even finish reading the entire thing. There’s a happy ending, and no one actually dies.’

‘That’s not the point.’ Why does nobody ever see where I’m coming from?

‘Would you prefer a bad ending? I have several earlier drafts that might suit your tastes.’ She nodded at the loose leaves of paper scattered on the floor.

‘No.’

‘We’re on the same page, then.’

We’re clearly not, Chief thought.

‘A happy ending is more satisfying,’ Raven said. ‘I’ll revise it by sprinkling in some spice, then get started on my other Chief-commissions.’ The bird on Raven’s shoulder cawed as if in agreement, then picked at Raven’s green hair. She didn’t seem bothered.

Chief sat down on the spare chair by Raven’s desk. ‘You have other commissions? Wait, did you say Chief-commissions?’

‘Yes, appreciation for my writing has soared. Even what you’d just read was a commission.’

There was no way that the self-insert story Chief had just read had been commissioned for. She thought it was just a silly little thing that Raven decided to write for fun. ‘Faye told me to speak to you about the novel series you two were planning on publishing.’

‘You’d just read a sample.’

I had a feeling. With her brow twitching in annoyance, Chief calmed herself with a deep breath. Just another day of dealing with Faye and the Sinners. Don’t stress.

‘There’s nothing to worry your pretty head over,’ Raven said. ‘It’s sure to sell well. I’ll even handle writing the advertising copy. You’ve read my articles before, too. You know how powerful my words are.’

‘That’s not the problem.’ Chief leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. Her job was so tiring it was unbelievable. ‘You can’t use me as a character in a novel to be published.’

‘And why not?’

‘Because I’m not giving you permission to.’

‘Literature is—’

‘No.’

Silence.

‘I’ll change the name from Chief to Director, then,’ Raven said.

‘Still no.’

‘Commander, officer, boss. There are plenty of different words, and if I don’t use your personal details, you can’t stop me.’

That was true. It was what a lot of authors did with fanfiction that they published. They shaved the serials away and passed it off as an original story with no ties to any other media, and that let them stay out of legal trouble. It was pretty smart, provided it was done right.

‘I’ll only do it for the works to be published, though,’ Raven said, plopping down into her chair and crossing her legs. ‘The private commissions won’t get the same treatment. My clients ordered very specific stories.’

Chief frowned. ‘Who are these clients of yours?’

‘Your fans and admirers.’

‘Are any of them at the MBCC?’

‘Plenty. I even wrote some for myself.’ Raven smirked. ‘I get some work from other places as well.’

Of course, Raven would write them for herself. Why wouldn’t she? Chief didn’t bother commenting on that. ‘Such as?’

‘The 9^th Agency, Paradeisos, here and there. All the places you know, really. They’re spread all over.’

Chief blinked. Who knew that fanfiction of herself was so popular amongst the citizens of DisCity?

‘The one I’ve just finished is Sumire’s.’

‘Someone wanted you to write a reader-insert story with Sumire?’

‘Sumire commissioned me to write another one of you and her.’

Wait. What. ‘Hand it over.’

‘I can’t be giving you my manuscripts, Chief. Client confidentiality.’

‘You’ve already revealed client details, and you’re writing about me without consent from me.’

‘Well—’

‘Would you like a trip to the confinement cell?’

Raven snapped her mouth shut and huffed. Opening a desk drawer, she dug out a stack of paper and handed it to Chief.

Reading through the story, Chief found that it wasn’t that bad. Especially this part:

You slip your hand into Chief’s as she rests her head on your lap. The floorboards of the house’s engawa are hard beneath you, but you barely notice it. With a view of the falling cherry blossom petals in front, you find your hand intertwining with Chief’s, and your heart gallops. Can Chief feel your pulse through your connected hands?

The tea you’d prepared is going cold on the tray. Tendrils of steam rise into the night sky. It’s beautiful, just like the moon. But neither can compare to the beauty of Chief.

‘What is it, Sumire?’ Chief asks, looking up at you.

You shake your head, and your soft smile refuses to leave tonight. The tea is unneeded. You drink up the image of Chief in your lap instead. With your free hand, you brush a lock of Chief’s hair to the side so that you can rest your palm on her cheek.

Her hand reaches up to cover yours, then she turns her head just enough to kiss your palm.

~~~

Somehow, Sumire’s story felt much more embarrassing than the first one even after Raven said that she’d add spicy content. Why is the cuter story so… Is it weird that I don’t hate it?

‘Hah, you’re blushing,’ Raven said. ‘My writing skills are—’

‘I’m confiscating this.’

Raven’s smug face morphed into one of panic. ‘You can’t.’

‘I can and I will. I’m taking all your manuscripts where I appear as a character.’

Raven kept silent.

‘And I know you have copies and stories other than these you’ve shown me. You’ll have to hand those over as well.’

The writer in the room looked about to protest but thought better of it when Chief mentioned having her cell searched and purged of such content if Raven didn’t comply. The Sinner didn’t need further reminder of possible punishment. In the end, Chief left Raven’s room with a stack of paper that was the thickness of the length of her forearm.

#

Chief had planned to throw the multiple manuscripts into the incinerator, but on her way past the tearoom, she bumped into Sumire. What a coincidence, she thought, then told herself that there were no coincidences in the universe.

The tearoom was empty when Sumire invited her inside. Chief wasn’t sure what specific tea it was that was being brewed, but the fragrance reminded her of the oolong tea she’d had a few days ago. It was calming, and she found her tense muscles relaxing.

‘I heard you’d commissioned Raven for a few stories,’ Chief said from her seat on one of the carved wooden stools.

Sumire blinked. ‘That’s… yes.’ She picked up the teapot and was about to pour Chief a drink.

Chief motioned for her to stop. ‘I’m not staying for long, but thank you.’

With her straight back and delicate motions, Sumire set the teapot down onto the table where Chief’s massive stack of paper sat.

‘I can’t let Raven do such a thing,’ Chief said.

Sumire’s gaze fell for a moment, then she nodded. ‘I understand.’

‘The stories you asked her to write, I’ve read through them.’

A tinge of pink bloomed on Sumire’s cheeks. ‘I apologise for my actions. I should have sought your consent befor—’

‘No. Well, that’d be nice, but I’m not here to tell you off or anything. I, um…’ Chief scratched the back of her head and averted her gaze, settling it on the shelves and cabinet by the wall where a myriad of different tealeaves were collected in little tins, bags, and pots. If someone pointed a gun at Chief and told her to name the teas, she’d be eating a bullet guaranTEAd. ‘You’re always so good to me. You’re so understanding, kind, and helpful. I was just wondering if you’d do me a favour.’

‘Of course. Tell me what it is, and I’ll have it done.’

Chief chuckled. ‘You should ask what it is first before agreeing.’

‘I don’t need to when it’s for you.’

Cheeks warming, Chief wondered why more Sinners couldn’t be as well behaved as Sumire was. There were so many strong personalities at the MBCC, and Chief was thankful for the gentler ones which were a little rarer.

‘Tell me what you need,’ Sumire said.

Chief placed a hand on top of the stack of paper. ‘I know you read a lot, and I wanted to ask if you could go through these manuscripts to check that Raven’s not written anything next level crazy without me knowing. Just tell me if there’s anything problematic that might signal her mental state getting worse from the mania and such. Anything dangerous.’

‘Understood. I’ll do that and get them back to you.’

‘Actually, I’ve been through them once already, but just wanted a second pair of eyes to check for me. I didn’t clock anything myself, so if you don’t find anything that needs addressing either, please take them to the incinerator.’ Chief pushed the manuscripts towards Sumire.

‘It will be done.’ Sumire picked up the top few sheets of paper and began to leaf through them when Chief stood up. ‘This is...’

‘I have to get going. There’s a lot of paperwork to do, and, well, just promise me to burn them all when you finish reading, okay? To ashes, as Thistle would say.’ With hurried steps, Chief dashed out the door, down the corridor, and entered the elevator, leaving a rather perplexed Sumire in the tea room with all the Chief x Reader insert stories confiscated from Raven. Sumire’s commissions were included.

So, maybe Chief had a soft spot for this gentle assassin. But could you blame her when almost everyone else in the bureau drove her mad?

Chapter Text

You slip a hand under Chief’s loosened shirt and touch warm skin. Her face, hovering above yours, is flushed crimson. The hard ground of the battlefield beneath you is momentarily forgotten as her hot breath hits your ear.

‘I’ve waited so long,’ Chief says. Her hand reaches down to—

Chief flung the manuscript in her hands across her office. The pages scattered partway before the bulk of it landed in front of Nightingale who was making her way to Chief’s desk.

Nightingale raised a brow at the sheets of paper covering the floor, then at Chief. ‘Is the paperwork stressing you out?’

‘I—wait! Don’t pick them up.’ Chief hurried around her desk and began gathering the pages up.

Nightingale ignored Chief, probably thinking that she was having one of her weird, stubborn don’t-help-me-I-can-handle-myself moments.

‘N-Nightingale, it’s really okay. I’ve got this.’

‘I’m your adjutant, Chief. And even if I wasn’t—’ Nightingale froze, eyes glued to the one of the pages she’d picked up.

Chief snatched the sheet out of her adjutant’s hand, trying to protect her from Raven’s writing. Maybe that was an excuse, and Chief was just trying to protect her own image. Perhaps both.

‘This...’ Nightingale began reading a different page. When Chief reached for it, Nightingale stood up and dodged. She’d gathered a small stack, so maybe taking each page she tried to read one by one was foolish, but Chief had to attempt to protect her dignity or what little there was left of it.

‘It’s something Raven wrote. Faye wanted to make some money off of it to pay for our repairs. It’s silly. Don’t read it.’ Chief’s heart was beating a little too fast, and she felt a little too warm. Damn Raven for writing such a story. She’d said she was going to change Chief’s name, but either Raven had forgotten, or she thought Chief wouldn’t be checking it before handing it off to Faye for publication.

‘It’s... interesting,’ Nightingale said, eyes scanning the text at rapid speed.

Chief gave an awkward chuckle. ‘I-I guess it is.’

Nightingale put the sheet she’d just finished reading at the back of her little stack and shuffled through the others. ‘Do you have page eight?’

Chief began searching before stopping herself and staring at Nightingale.

‘What is it?’ Nightingale asked.

Chief continued to stare.

Nightingale’s eyes drifted to the side. ‘It’s interesting.’

The staring continued.

‘Raven’s writing isn’t bad,’ Nightingale said.

‘I don’t want my adjutant reading a story like this.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because the Chief in the story is obviously me.’

‘I thought this was fiction.’

‘No. I mean, yes, but—’ Chief took a deep breath, restrained herself from screaming. ‘What I mean is that the character called Chief in this story is based off of me. Raven wrote it as literally me.’

‘I know. It’s quite obvious.’

‘And you still want to read it?’

‘Well... yes.’

They held eye contact. Chief blinked slowly. Embarrassed, they turned their gazes away from each other.

The office doors slid open. ‘Hey, I’m here to pick up—’ Faye flicked her eyes between Chief and Nightingale repeatedly. ‘What’s wrong with you both? Why are you standing in the middle of the room red as tomatoes?’

Chapter Text

There was a screech in the office as Faye dragged a chair to the side of Chief’s desk. ‘So, what did you want me for?’ she asked, plopping down into the seat.

‘Give me an update on the numbers.’ Chief had expected to have received them by now.

‘Didn’t you get them from finance?’

‘I did, but it’s not adding up. Our ventures to make some extra money weren’t on the report.’

Faye shrugged. ‘I’m sure that they just need some time. You probably didn’t get the most recent data. They’re always a little slow. You know how it is.’

Nightingale entered and handed Chief a folder. ‘These are the updated reports from the finance department.’

‘You and your perfect timing.’ Faye gave a low whistle.

With a quick flick through the documents, Chief frowned. ‘Faye, you didn’t let them know, did you?’

‘What?’ Faye sat forward in her chair. ‘Of course I did.’

‘Then why do these say otherwise?’ Chief tapped the documents on her desk.

‘I don’t know. Shouldn’t you be asking finance that?’

‘I’ll shoot them a message,’ Nightingale said as she unlocked her tablet.

‘Thanks.’ What would I do without Nightingale? Chief wondered. Die from all the crap that needs taken care of in the MBCC, probably.

‘So, can I go?’ Faye asked. ‘I’ve got inventory to—’

‘Since these reports don’t give me what I need, you’re going to have to give me a progress update on the situation, Faye,’ Chief said.

‘We’re doing fine. The chibi figurine, audio, calendar, and other photo merch are on schedule. Some of this stuff should be out next month since we fast tracked with printing. The figurine’s gonna be the slowest of all projects, though. For the audio, we’re just working on packaging—mainly digital art since we’re not old school doing CDs and stuff. But! I was thinking we could make limited edition vinyls or something! Pre-orders are showing healthy numbers, and I’m certain that there’s a demand for premium goods.’

Chief didn’t like the look in Faye’s eyes. It was reminiscent of mania, and not of the usual type Chief dealt with on a daily basis. This was a more... human kind. Perhaps you could classify it as standard mania? Chief wasn’t sure. She wasn’t a medical professional, but it was clear that Faye was way too enthusiastic about all this money making. Then again, maybe it was a good thing to have someone so passionate about the make-300k-project—a name Chief had come up with recently.

Faye looked ready to make her exit with her butt halfway off her seat.

‘And Raven’s… novels?’ Chief asked.

‘Oh, we’re in talks about those. She wants royalties, which is completely fair, but she’s not happy with industry rate—also fair. I mean, those numbers? Yeah, not great if you ask me. So, we’re figuring out a happy middle together.’

‘Can you give me accurate numbers?’

‘Expenses, predicted profits, and that?’

Chief nodded.

‘If you told me before I came, I could have cobbled together a quick report or something. I can’t remember all these long numbers off the top of my head. There’s so much to factor in and calculate.’

Chief narrowed her eyes at Faye. ‘An estimate.’

Looking troubled, Faye sighed. ‘Eh… it’s really difficult. I don’t do well with numbers unless they’re in front of me. I can barely even remember what’s in stock at the depot on my own… Just know that it’s all going according to plan, okay?’

‘I don’t like not having details.’

‘I know, but don’t you trust me? I’ve not caused any problems at the supply office in all the time I’ve worked there. You’re kinda hurting my feelings here, Chief.’

‘Fine,’ Chief said, sighing. ‘You do look after the depot, so I know you’re not abysmal at math.’

‘Like I said, I’m good when I have things in front of me. Also a calculator. Mental math? What’s that? I can barely add two and two.’

Chief stared at her.

‘I’m joking,’ Faye said. ‘Two plus two is...’ there was a stretch of silence, ‘four. See? Got there. Aaaaanyway, if you don’t need me no more, I’ll be at the depot. Gotta check inventory and arrange some stuff.’ She shot to her feet and dashed out the door.

‘Should I be worried?’ Chief asked, staring in the direction of Faye’s exit.

‘Being bad at mental math isn’t a big deal, Chief,’ Nightingale answered, and Chief hummed in reply. ‘But if you’re particularly worried, I could go hunt down those numbers for you.’

‘No, it’s fine. I don’t want to hurt Faye’s feelings.’ Returning the documents to the folder, Chief gestured for the holographic display to bring up a map of Eastside where suspicious activity had been marked. She’d let Faye handle the money. She was pretty much in charge of the make-300k-project anyway, and Chief had plenty of other things to take care of. So many problems, so little time, Chief thought, examining the image before her.

‘Chief,’ Nightingale interrupted. ‘Eirene is at the door. Should I grant entrance?’

Eirene, here without an appointment? ‘Sure, let her in.’

A tap on Nightingale’s tablet later and Eirene strolled in, sweeping the office with a glance.

‘What can I help you with?’ Chief asked.

‘I was informed that Faye was here.’ Eirene folded her arms across her chest.

‘She was. Not anymore.’

‘Fantastic.’ Though Eirene didn’t look bothered, the sarcasm in that one word had been thick. ‘She requests my presence but sends me walking around to do unneeded cardio. I suppose I’ll leave you to your work, Chief.’

‘All right. See y—’

‘You know,’ Eirene said, holding Chief’s gaze. ‘I could pay for the repairs myself.’

Nightingale stepped closer to Chief.

‘What?’ It wasn’t that Chief didn’t follow what Eirene was talking about. It was that Chief didn’t know why Eirene was bringing this up out of the blue.

‘It’s only 300,000.’

Chief shifted under Eirene’s intense gaze. ‘And what would you want in return?’

Eirene smiled. ‘How about a favour? You could owe me, for now.’

‘I’m not sure if I can afford that.’ Chief wasn’t about to take Eirene up on her potentially dangerous and risky offer. Who knows what she could do with a single favour owed to her? This lady was a mastermind in business and deals.

‘A wager, then?’ Eirene offered.

Chief shook her head.

‘Consider it. A game of chess. If you win against me, 300,000, no interest, no repayment, all yours.’

‘But if you win?’

‘I won’t ask for money or anything you can’t afford.’

It was certainly enticing, but Chief doubted it’d be simple. ‘Perhaps if you wanted a night out to have dinner together, then, maybe I’d accept. But we both know a meal would not cost that much. Unfortunately, I don’t have anything worth 300,000 that I’d be willing to put on the table.’

‘Dinner together doesn’t sound too bad. There are many fine feasts that are valued much higher, Chief. I’m sure Cabernet knows about it all too well,’ Eirene said. ‘And you’d be surprised with what bargaining chips you have in your pocket.’ She smiled.

‘Chief.’ Concern was plain on Nightingale’s face.

‘Don’t worry.’ Chief chuckled, turned her attention back to Eirene. ‘I’m sorry. Whatever it is that I could offer you doesn’t matter. I’m not foolish enough for this gamble.’

‘Afraid?’ Eirene asked, smile unfaltering.

‘Of course. Chess, with you? I’d need a whole training arc spanning an entire season’s worth of episodes just to feel confident enough to challenge you. And even then, I’m sure my chances of winning would still be slim.’

‘A pity. Perhaps another time, then. Good day to you, Chief.’ Eirene turned and left.

‘You thought I was going to take her up on her offer?’ Chief asked Nightingale.

‘You were considering it.’

‘I was, but like I said, Eirene, chess.’

‘300,000 DisCoins.’

‘I wouldn’t play chess against someone like Eirene just for a large sum of money, Nightingale.’

‘You wouldn’t for yourself... but for others?’

‘It’s not like I need to save anybody with a game of chess.’

‘You’d save the Sinners and MBCC staff from extra stress, anxiety, and work if you won 300,000 from Eirene.’

Chief stayed silent. That was true. She’d thought about that earlier, and it was what had made her hesitate in declining straight away. She could solve their problems if she won a single game of chess with Eirene as her opponent. Nobody at the MBCC would need to do all this extra work of making money just for repairs.

‘You may know Eirene well, Chief,’ Nightingale said. ‘But I know you.’

‘Yeah.’ Chief smiled. ‘You do.’

Chapter Text

‘I’m glad to see the both of you not skipping breakfast,’ Chief said, greeting Hella and Hecate in the corridor to the cafeteria.

Hella raised a brow and crossed her arms. ‘Dude, they’re doing waffles today.’

‘You should eat breakfast even if there aren’t any waffles,’ Chief said.

‘I promise that I’ll eat breakfast tomorrow as well, so don’t you worry!’

‘Only because there’s pancakes,’ Hecate said flatly.

‘Hey, we don’t get them every day, and you eat them too!’

‘Not often.’

‘Well, sorry that I like the good tasting stuff. I could talk about how much salt there is in your favourite soups and shit.’

‘Hella,’ Chief said.

‘What? High sodium isn’t good for you.’

‘No.’ Chief folded her arms. ‘Language, Hella.’

‘I said “shit”. Big deal. You’re not my Mom, Chief.’

Hecate frowned, and Chief gave Hella an admonishing stare.

‘Okay, okay,’ Hella huffed. ‘I’ll try not to swear so much since you keep getting on my ass about it.’

‘You better,’ Chief said. Children shouldn’t be throwing swear words around so easily.

‘Are you coming for breakfast, too?’ Hecate asked.

‘No, I’m heading to Eve’s workshop.’

‘And you were saying how important it was to eat breakfast.’ Hella rolled her eyes.

‘I’ve already eaten, Hella.’

‘Adjutant Nightingale probably got you something, didn’t she?’ Hecate said.

Chief smiled. ‘She did. How did you know?’

‘Ugh, how does anybody not know?’ Hella said. ‘She acts like your wife more than an adjutant if you ask me.’

Chief felt her cheeks warm. ‘T-that’s not true.’

‘Yeah, yeah, stay in denial.’

‘I’m not in denial.’

‘Right. Why are your cheeks so red? Embarrassed? What have you two been up to in that office of yours when nobody’s around?’

Chief blinked at Hella’s wriggling brows. This little rascal had a way of working people up. Nothing indecent went on in Chief’s office or any office—wait, what if people did indecent things in the MBCC without her knowing? That could certainly be a possibility. Either way, Chief and Nightingale kept things strictly professional. Did Chief like Nightingale? Yes. Was Nightingale attractive? Yes. Did Chief want to be more than friends with her?... Huh, Do I? she wondered. Hold on. Not the point!

‘We should hurry, Hella,’ Hecate said. ‘Remember that time when they ran out of waffles?’

‘Oh fuck!’ Hella dashed down the corridor.

‘Language!’ Chief yelled through cupped hands. She turned to Hecate. ‘Thanks. You’re always saving me.’

‘It’s my job. I have to keep you safe and look out for you.’

‘Yeah, I know. But you’d do it even if this job was taken away from you, right?’

‘I’d like to. If you’d allow me.’

Taking Hecate’s hand and giving it a quick squeeze, Chief wondered how it came to be that she, an amnesiac with no recollection of past relationships, found a family of her own at the MBCC. These two Sinners were the closest she’d have to true daughters. ‘Thank you, Hecate.’

Hecate nodded.

‘Oh, I almost forgot.’ Chief pulled a small packet of strawberry sweets out of her coat pocket. ‘I’ve been meaning to give these to you for a few days now. They’re your favourite, right?’

Hecate accepted the gift. ‘They are. Thank you, Chief.’

‘You’re very welcome. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you not to eat these for breakfast because you’re not a certain sweet-toothed rascal.’ Chief chuckled. ‘Now, don’t let me keep you from the cafeteria. If you want waffles, you’ll have to hurry before Hella eats them all.’

#

‘This is incredible,’ Chief said, inspecting the plushie designed to look like herself. ‘I don’t know how you do it, Eve.’

‘It’s quite simple once you have some experience, and I’ve been making toys for a long time now.’ Eve turned her wheelchair with one hand on a wheel and reached for another plushie on the table in front of her. There were tools of all sorts that Chief couldn’t name spread out on the surface. ‘This is a second version. I’m not sure which prototype suits your needs more.’

Chief accepted the plushie. This one looked the same as the first one except that the clothes it was dressed in wasn’t the standard uniform that Chief wore. This one had a frilly maid outfit on. ‘This is…’ It was cute. It really was. But calling the plushie that was modelled after herself cute felt a bit strange. ‘Amazing. I was just wondering, why these, though?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You make all sorts of toys, so why plushies and not anything like, say, a doll?’

‘I considered various options, but these are more popular nowadays. They’re soft, huggable, cute.’

‘And dolls aren’t?’

‘They can be. To me, at least. But not many people feel the same. One of my favourites is a doll.’

Chief recalled the incident at the toy factory where she first encountered Eve. ‘Polly, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘And I’m guessing your other favourites are Bass, Benna, Maresa, and Bone.’ It was more of a statement than a guess.

‘Yes, I love them.’ Eve smiled faintly. ‘They’re my family. But plushies are a better fit for us here if we consider our target audience.’

The mention of family sparked an idea in Chief’s head. ‘Eve, it’s not that I don’t like what you’ve made, but I was thinking maybe we could change the design of these.’

‘What do you have in mind?’

‘Well, there are people you can make plushies of who are way cuter than I am.’

Eve didn’t speak, just waited for Chief to continue.

‘How about we create designs based off of Hella and Hecate?’ The image of both of these Sinners in plushie form caused Chief’s heart to leap in excitement. She felt like she was going to burst just from seeing the adorableness in her mind.

‘I’m not sure how many of those would sell, Chief. Faye told me that we have to make “mad profits” for the MBCC to cover the cost of repairs, and I’m sure that you’re the more popular option.’

There’d be something wrong with the customer if they didn’t recognise how cute a plushie Hella and Hecate would be. It’d be criminal to not make them real. ‘How about we do this in addition to the plushies of me, then?’

‘The budget given to me wouldn’t be enough…’

‘I’ll cover the production costs.’

Eve frowned. ‘It’ll be expensive.’

‘It’s okay. I’ll handle it.’ The mass production of Hella and Hecate plushies must happen. Maybe it was selfish of her, but Chief was determined to make her dream come true. ‘Maybe we can market them as H&H plushies or something. H2? I don’t really know, but a special duo name might help with selling them?’

‘I’m still unconvinced that they’ll sell as well as you want them to.’ Eve smiled at Chief’s crestfallen expression. ‘But I’ll begin working on them.’

‘Really? Thank you!’

‘Of course. You’re family too, Chief.’

Other than covering the cost for manufacturing the H&H plushies, Chief unshackled her own restraints on her bank account and spent an extra 15,000 DisCoins on what she decided was one of the most well-deserved purchases in her life. It was worth it. Even if she didn’t know what to do with the enormous amount of toys she’d bought.

I’ll have to rent out some storage space. Maybe I could gift them to people? She wanted the world to appreciate the adorableness of Hella and Hecate, but what if the plushies get mistreated? What if the people who get their hands on H&H end up not caring for them at all? Maybe it’s best to keep them all for herself. Chief could dive into an entire pool full of H&H plushies. To be surrounded by cuteness condensed into small, squishable forms, how blissful that would be.

#

Chief looked up from her paperwork when Nightingale strode into the office.

‘I passed by the depot and got these for you,’ Nightingale said, handing over a sheet of paper. It was a printed spreadsheet with the make-300k-project’s numbers. Expenses, predicted returns, current profits, and a bunch of other related calculations that Chief had been wanting to view for the past month.

‘This is great. Thank you, Nightingale.’

‘Don’t mention it.’

Chief hummed. ‘Seems like with everything shipped, we’ll have about 30,000 in profits.’

‘Is that reasonable?’ Nightingale asked.

‘Factoring in all the material costs, storage, labour, production in general, I think it looks fine. The calculations are right here. We also lost a good amount of money on the statue Enfer carved. I didn’t know large blocks of marble could cost that much.’

‘I thought it looked fine at first glance as well, but I’m absolutely positive that Chief related goods would make much, much more than this.’

‘Thank you for your confidence in me, but it’s not like I’m some world-renowned celebrity or anything.’

Nightingale narrowed her eyes. ‘I still think the numbers should be bigger.’

‘Maybe if all the customers were you.’ Chief chuckled.

A faint pink dusted Nightingale’s cheeks.

Chapter Text

Chief couldn’t stop herself from tearing into the lamb and red pepper wraps at the cafeteria. She was having a late lunch, which she would have completely skipped if not for Nightingale kicking her out of the office.

Faye, who was sat opposite Chief at the table, popped a potato wedge into her mouth, chewed, then proceeded to cough and guzzle her fizzy apple juice. ‘Damn, these are so spicy,’ she said, fanning her herself.

‘And yet you still eat them.’ Chief had been watching Faye go through the cycle of eating potato covered with chili powder and suffering over and over. It had been amusing at first, but now it was getting boring.

‘The way they burn my insides is kinda addictive,’ Faye said, throwing another piece into her mouth.

Chief hummed, too distracted by her better choice of a meal. Flavourful barbecued lamb meat shaped into small patties, red peppers that added a hint of sweetness, fresh herb yoghurt sauce, all sitting on crispy lettuce, and a soft pitta bread that held everything together. The meat was juicy, and the wrap was still warm in her hands. Perfection. She’d eaten two of them already and was onto her third. In Chief’s defence, the wraps weren’t big. Sure, they weren’t small either, but they weren’t big.

‘So, I’ve been thinking,’ Faye said, putting down her can of juice. ‘We could ramp things up a little.’

‘Ramp what up?’

‘The making money thing.’

‘Ah, right.’

‘Thoughts?’

Chief shrugged, taking another bite of lamb and pitta. ‘Tell me yours.’

‘Okay, so, a kissing boo—’

‘No,’ Nightingale said. She had glided over with a tray holding a toasted sandwich and the same apple juice Faye had been drinking. The shelved fridges by the serving area had been emptied of them. Apple juice had become popular ever since Bianca joined the MBCC.

‘Hear me out,’ Faye began.

‘No kissing booth,’ Nightingale hissed, giving Faye a stern look before sitting down next to her.

‘I said, hear me out.’

‘I’m with Nightingale,’ Chief said. ‘I’m not going to take part in a kissing booth no matter what you say.’

‘There are so many pros to it!’ Faye’s volume turned the heads of the handful of staff who were also eating off-peak.

‘Swapping spit with multiple people is awfully unhygienic, Faye,’ Nightingale said.

‘Yeah, as if that’s what you’re really worried about,’ Faye mumbled.

Nightingale narrowed her eyes. ‘What did you say?’

‘I said, you guys need to give me a chance.’

‘No,’ Chief said. ‘There’s no way I’m giving a kissing booth a chance.’

‘That’s not what I said! I said give me a chance.’

Chief shared a look with Nightingale.

‘Are you two gonna let me speak?’ Faye asked.

Chief and Nightingale stayed silent, prompting Faye to continue.

‘Okay, well, nobody said a kissing booth had to be a mouth-to-mouth thing, right?’ A smirk grew on Faye’s face. ‘We could totally do a hand kissing booth or a cheek kissing booth. Maybe a variety of different types of kisses. Who knows, maybe someone would even ask you to kiss their boob or butt, like how some people get celebrities to sign their names on their body so they can get a tattoo of it, y’know?’

‘I don’t want to be kissing random butts,’ Chief said. If I did that, wouldn’t that turn me into a literal ass kisser?

‘How is it gonna be random when your customers are people you know?’ Faye took a sip from her can.

‘Faye,’ Nightingale said lowly, and Faye refused to meet the adjutant’s eyes. ‘From the sentence that just came out of your mouth, one could assume you’ve already gathered and arranged customers for Chief’s hypothetical kissing booth that definitely has not been approved yet.’

‘Weeeeeell, you were always telling me to take the initiative with—’

‘This kissing booth business is already underway?’ The last few bites of the most delicious lamb wrap Chief had ever tasted in her life had been abandoned on her plate.

‘Yup.’ Faye rose to her feet and grabbed her tray. ‘Don’t worry, okay? I’ve even got the time slots for everyone all worked out.’ She backed away from the table. ‘It’ll be a breeze!’ And then she bolted.

Chief turned to Nightingale, and they sat in silence for a moment.

‘Don’t fret, Chief,’ Nightingale said, beginning to get up. ‘I’ll go speak to her.’

Chief sighed and laid a hand on Nightingale’s forearm so she’d remain seated. ‘It’s fine. You should eat your lunch.’

‘But—’

‘Don’t skip your meals, Nightingale.’ It felt funny for Chief to be the one to say this when it was always Nightingale who chided her about such a thing.

‘If you don’t want to kiss people, you shouldn’t be forced to. I don’t want you uncomfortable just because the MBCC is in debt. Repairs can wait.’

‘It’s all right. Faye said it’s not mouth-to-mouth, so it should be doable for me. And honestly, the sooner repairs are done with, the less I have to worry about them. So, maybe this isn’t too bad of an idea.’ It was brewing up a shot-glass amount of anxiety within Chief, but it wasn’t too hard to convince herself that things would be fine. She’d survived thugs, corruptors, black rings and much more. Kisses? Ha.

Nightingale frowned and didn’t begin eating till she saw Chief get back to finishing off the last of her food. ‘Just remember, don’t let Faye or anybody force you into doing something you’re not comfortable with, Chief.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ Chief smiled, thankful to have Nightingale look out for her.

Chapter Text

The smoke of the burning incense trailed upwards in one long, flowing wisp. Chief wasn’t sure what the smell of it was, but she liked the woody scent and how it relaxed her mind. She’d have sunk into her chair for a nap if she wasn’t on the clock.

‘You know I’m glad to see you.’ Du Ruo remained standing, even though she’d insisted that Chief sit down. ‘But it’d be nice to spend time with you outside of work.’

‘We can have tea together sometime, then,’ Chief said.

‘I’ll hold you to that.’

‘And me?’ Cassia asked from where the shelves lined the wall in her scent workshop. ‘Don’t pretend I’m not here. I’d like a little time with you myself, Chief.’

‘We’ll figure something out,’ Chief said. ‘How about we all have tea together?’

Du Ruo hummed in a way that seemed like she didn’t want that to happen, though her gentle smile never left her face, and Cassia arched a brow.

‘No?’ Chief asked. If they enjoyed tea together, she’d have less trouble squeezing out some time in her schedule. It wasn’t that she didn’t like these two Sinners, but there were only twenty-four hours in a day, and Chief’s workload had been heavy lately.

‘I’d rather wait longer to have a more intimate experience,’ Du Ruo said. ‘Chatting one on one is much more enjoyable. It’s easier to delve deeper into certain topics of conversation that way.’

‘I agree. Skimming the surface is never really it,’ Cassia said. ‘The less people, the clearer the scent of the one you wish to indulge in.’

‘I guess that’s a no, then,’ Chief said. ‘I’m quite busy, so you’ll both have to wait a while.’

‘That’s fine,’ Du Ruo and Cassia said.

Cassia brought a handful of vials over to the table that was laden with what could only be described as chemistry gear. Chief didn’t understand why test tubes and even a Bunsen burner was needed to make perfume. Wasn’t it just about mixing things?—like a cocktail. The mortar and pestle were the only tools that made sense. Grind some stuff and sniff them to see which smelled the best, right?

‘I’m not sure this will be fitting,’ Du Ruo said, turning one of the vials in her hand. ‘Too musty.’

‘It could be attractive for our potential customers,’ Cassia said. ‘A hint of leather or something along those lines. Maybe something sweet for the younger audience.’

‘That would work if our objective isn’t to create a fragrance that represented Chief. I believe that going the cleaner route would be better.’

Cassia looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘I was hoping for a rich and vivid scent, but you are right. Our Chief here would be more suited to something lighter.’ She leaned down and inhaled near Chief’s neck. ‘Yes, something clear, soft, and warm. Like the rays of the sun that banishes the darkness and terror of both the imaginary and the real.’

‘The sun...’ A flicker of sadness passed by Du Ruo’s face. If Chief hadn’t glanced at her in that moment, she’d have never caught it.

‘I don’t really know much to contribute to the conversation,’ Chief said, ‘but I trust that you two will make a great perfume.’

‘Oh, we will,’ Cassia said. She neared Chief for another deep inhale. ‘Your fragrance… it’s maddening. If only we could bottle it up and mass produce it. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, what we’ll create will have to do. It’ll still sell so well that people will be fighting over it.’

‘I’m not sure that’s something I want,’ Chief said, slowly leaning away from Cassia. It felt like the woman was trying to suck Chief in through the nose. Chief reminded herself that everyone had their own quirks. ‘The fighting, I mean.’

‘People will do what they must to inch closer to tranquillity,’ Cassia replied.

I have no clue how a perfume relates or even brings one closer to tranquillity, but to each their own, I guess. ‘So, what I understood is that we’re going for something that’s fresh?’

‘Something clean,’ Cassia said.

‘Is there a difference?’

‘Yes.’ Du Ruo chuckled. ‘Clean, soft, warm. That’s what we’re focusing on. Something that will reflect your essence.’

‘Okay.’

They spent the next three hours combining different ingredients, mixing things, and even heating them up to change what Cassia explained was ‘the composition of—’ wait, what was it again? Chief wasn’t sure. Her nose wasn’t even sensitive enough to pick up on said changes. But by the end of the first hour, she was ready to leave, content that these two scent masters could do their job without her. Chief only felt in the way.

‘I hear there’s going to be a kissing booth,’ Du Ruo said. Her eyes were focused on a rack of test tubes in front of her as she used a pipette to drop measured droplets of green liquid into one of them.

It concerned Chief that the liquid was fluorescent and looked radioactive, but this was Du Ruo. She knew what she was doing. ‘Thanks to Faye,’ Chief said. She sighed at having been reminded of the upcoming event. ‘You can check fortunes, right? Do you think you can figure out who’s going to come?’

Du Ruo smiled. ‘I wouldn’t need to check fortunes for that, Chief.’

‘I’m sure anybody could make a full and correct list of the attendees,’ Cassia said, copying words down onto her clipboard from the sticker on a vial.

Chief frowned. ‘Maybe you’re more connected than I am since I certainly can’t do that. I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ve been so stressed.’ She sighed again.

‘I am but a mere scholar,’ Du Ruo said. ‘But I can offer you this. I did check your fortune this morning, and it’d said your survival rates are high.’

‘Should I be worried?’ Chief wasn’t sure how good that sounded. ‘I still can’t believe we’re having a kissing booth in the MBCC, and that I’m the one who’s...’

‘Perhaps it’s written in your fate.’ Du Ruo placed the pipette down.

‘Do you think my fortune might change if you used a different divination technique?’ There are many different methods to tell a person’s fortune. Surely one of them would say that Chief would have a smooth life, right? And since nobody knows which technique is more accurate, Chief could cling to the sliver of hope that at least one of them said she’d be all right.

‘I don’t believe your fortune will change,’ Du Ruo replied. ‘Only that the prediction will.’

‘So even if we cycled through bazi, zi wei dou shu, qi men dun jia, tie ban shen shu, or others, no matter what any of them say, if my future is screwed, then I have no hope?’

‘I’m surprised you know about tie ban shen shu.’ Duo Ruo seemed impressed.

Cassia took a sniff off the top of one of the test tubes and frowned. ‘These notes are... not quite right.’

‘Chief, do you know of the saying: yī mìng èr yùn sān fēngshuǐ sì jī yīndé wǔ dúshū (一命二運三風水四積陰德五讀書)?’

‘I’ve heard of it in passing, but I don’t know what it means.’

‘It lists what determines or affects a person’s life. First fate, second fortune—these are things you can’t control and can’t change, although that’s debatable in some ways. There have been those who have supposedly changed both fate and fortune, but what if it was in their fate and fortune to do so?’ Du Ruo shook her head lightly. ‘Let’s not get into that for now. Third feng shui, fourth good merits, fifth education. They say these last three are things you can control. Things you can actively work on. They also say that these don’t affect a person’s life as much as fate and fortune do. But through hard work in these latter three areas, one can make some changes to the outcomes in their life. Do you see what I’m trying to say, Chief?’

‘That even if your life is fated to suck, there are ways to change it?’

‘Yes, somewhat. Perhaps some things we can never escape or alter, but I believe that no matter how improbable something is, there’s always a chance. And if we can’t change something entirely, we can affect it somehow. After all, the sun crow...’ There was a flash of pain in Du Ruo’s partially opened eyes before she closed them again. ‘Think of it like a tunnel that you’re passing through. The tunnel is your fate, and fortune comes and goes. The latter three helps you position yourself in this tunnel.’

Why is it a tunnel? Chief wondered. Wouldn’t it make more sense if it was a straight line?

‘At your best, when your fortune comes, you want to be near the top of the tunnel to reap the most benefits during that time,’ Du Ruo continued. ‘And at your worst, you want to be at the top of the tunnel to avoid, well, the worst of the worst that’s at the bottom.’

Oh, that’s why it’s a tunnel. So it’s got more than one axis, like a graph. What an interesting way to think of fate. ‘So, the best of the best, and the best of the worst is better than the worst of the best and the worst of the worst.’ What the hell did I just say?

‘Yes, though you made it sound quite confusing.’ Du Ruo chuckled.

‘Fascinating,’ Cassia said. ‘I believe I’ve heard from somewhere that the list goes on through to ten?’

‘Indeed. The sixth is to do with one’s name,’ Du Ruo said. ‘It’s easy to make a new one nowadays. However, getting others to use it can be a challenge. And the list goes on, but usually the first five items take the main focus. They’re in order of importance, after all. That’s the interpretation I like to stick with. There are many different ones, and nobody can really say which is the most “correct”.’

Cassia smiled. ‘Well, if the things one can mainly affect are to do with feng shui, doing good, and learning more, I think Chief has the latter two covered.’

‘Precisely. Which is why Chief here has no need to be so worried about things like destiny or, in this case, the kissing booth. Things will work out in the end no matter what happens. I have faith that it will.’

‘Thanks,’ Chief said. It was nice to receive words of encouragement and comfort. ‘So, about that feng shui you mentioned. Could I get some help with that?’ Maybe it could protect her from the dangers of the upcoming event that felt like impending doom creeping closer and closer...

‘I’ll come to your office later and help you with a setup,’ Du Ruo said.

‘Thanks, I really appre—'

Cassia had stirred some oil into a test tube, causing it to smoke. The room began to be filled with the scent of smoked salmon. ‘Let me fix this.’ She poured a pink liquid into the same tube.

‘I prefer the smell of smoked salmon to burnt hotdogs,’ Chief said, frowning. What kind of alchemy created the smells of meat from mixing the scents of herbs and flowers?

‘Let’s start over,’ Du Ruo said. ‘We’ll work it out.’

Chief really hoped things would work out.

Chapter Text

Today was the day of kissing. Chief breathed a deep sigh as she paced back and forth in the closet where she was preparing her heart, mind, body, and soul. She wasn’t sure how many times she’d sighed this evening, but it felt like she’d been doing it every minute.

‘We’ll be ready soon, Chief!’ came Faye’s voice from the neighbouring room. They’d cleaned up and decorated a small storage space in the depot for the kissing booth. Faye was last seen fiddling with the fairy lights. She’d insisted that they make a spectacular debut, whatever that was, and had been rattling off commands to the ducks.

‘Don’t kill the ducks! They’re still recovering!’ Chief yelled.

Faye’s voice, though muffled, was loud. ‘They’re healthy enough to be doing light work!’

Silence. Chief was alone with the loud thumping of her heart in the silence of the closet. No matter how deeply she breathed, it continued to feel like her lungs couldn’t take in enough air, like the alveoli in there weren’t recognising the oxygen and dragging them little molecules into her body. She shook her head. Spending the morning listening to medical staff lecturing about the importance of having a good oxygen saturation level had gotten to her. Chief supposed it meant that they did a good job of making her more aware of her health.

‘I need some serious help,’ Chief whispered to herself.

It was as if God, some higher power, or the universe heard her plea. 000 (Zero) had said they were called AISNO—the gods, that is—but Chief wasn’t sure if she remembered that right. Venturing to the other world had been a weird experience and not one that she wanted to go through again if it could be helped. The door opened, and her adjutant stepped in.

‘Chief,’ Nightingale said.

‘Oh, hi. W-what are you doing here?’ Since when did I stutter and sound so dumb?

‘I’m here to help you.’

Chief opened her mouth to speak, didn’t know what to say, snapped it shut.

Nightingale offered a gentle smile. ‘I knew you’d be anxious, so as soon as I finished my meeting, I rushed over here.’

Now that Chief looked closely, she could see that there were loose strands of hair that poked out from Nightingale’s bun, and her hat was a little wonky. Those cheeks were more pink than usual, too. Nightingale adjusted her cap, perhaps noticing Chief’s eyes lingering on it.

‘Do you need encouragement?’ Nightingale asked. ‘Or…’

‘You sound like Shalom,’ Chief said.

Nightingale made a face that was part scowl part disgust. She disliked Shalom for some reason that Chief hadn’t quite figured out yet. Well, that Paradeisos lady is manipulative and intimidating. One couldn’t really blame Nightingale for being on guard around her.

‘I can do you better,’ Nightingale said.

‘What?’ Chief blinked. Did she hear her right?

A quick clear of the throat. ‘I mean, I can do you something better. I’ll give you both encouragement and a trial run.’

Chief smiled a little. A pep talk from Nightingale? Yeah, that sounded good. The smile vanished from her face due to the confusion that hit her suddenly. ‘Wait, what do you mean trial run?’

‘If you’re worried about your performance, we can help you feel more confident by getting some practice in,’ Nightingale explained.

Chief wondered if her adjutant’s cheeks had been this shade of pink when she’d arrived. Nightingale had rushed over after all. But it looked like the blush had darkened. ‘You’re saying I should kiss you? As practice?’

Glancing away, Nightingale nodded. ‘If you wish, that is. Or I could just give you the motivational talk that I prepared on the way over if—’

‘Okay.’

They stared at each other.

‘Chief—’

A forced laugh. Flailing hands. ‘W-was that a joke?’ Chief asked. ‘You offered as a joke, right? I—’

‘Kiss me.’

Chief’s heart skipped a beat. She pressed a hand to her chest. An awkward chuckle. ‘I…’ Her adjutant’s eyes stayed locked on hers. Nightingale’s pupils were dilated, her stare sincere. ‘Oh. You were serious.’

A step closer. ‘Would it… help?’ Nightingale asked.

‘I…’ Chief gulped. ‘I think so? But you shouldn’t have to do this just because you’re my adjutant and—’

‘If you won’t kiss me already, I’ll kiss you,’ Nightingale said, voice low.

It was quite interesting how even though Chief was a human and not a robot, her mind could still short-circuit.

Nightingale reached for Chief’s hand, lifted it to her mouth, and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

It was warm. Chief felt warm. A moment later, she internally face-palmed herself. It’s not a mouth-to-mouth kissing booth. I forgot! She didn’t mean we should practice kissing each other on the lips.

‘Are you all right, Chief?’

‘I—yeah. Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? Totally fine. Yep. Great. Perfect.’

Nightingale raised her brows.

‘I’m seriously, totally, completely fine.’ Chief pulled Nightingale’s hand up to press a kiss to the inside of her palm. Nightingale’s eyes widened at the action, and Chief attempted a nonchalant smile. ‘See? I’m good. I can totally do this, this kissing thing, yeah.’ The embarrassment of her misunderstanding did a lot of damage. ‘There’s probably going to be a lot of cheek kisses, isn’t there?’

‘Probably.’

‘Then, I, um.’ Chief cupped Nightingale’s face. ‘Can I…’

Nightingale nodded.

Chief leaned in. Gulped. Pecked Nightingale’s soft skin. Those eyes, Chief thought, face still close. So clear. So pretty. She could see herself reflected in them. Those lips. She glanced at them, then at Nightingale’s eyes again. Chief felt herself falling deeper and deeper into them. What was this? Hypnotism? How strange. How nice. Those lips had looked like they’d taste good. Wait—what? She stepped back.

‘Chief?’ Nightingale’s breathing had sped up a little. Her cheeks were flushed. It was nice to know that Chief wasn’t the only one affected by whatever this was. ‘Chief.’

Why did Nightingale’s voice sound so attractive all of a sudden?—not that it wasn’t usually attractive… Chief’s heart was beating so fast that she wondered how she was still conscious.

‘Deep breaths, Chief.’

‘I’m breathing so deeply. I’ve been deep breathing since three days ago—no, ever since I heard Faye was setting this up.’

‘Chief.’ Nightingale gave Chief’s hand a squeeze. ‘Follow my breathing pattern, okay?’

‘What, why? I’m fine. Reall—’

The look Nightingale shot Chief gave her no room to refuse. It wasn’t a stern look, not her cutting glare that scared the staff halfway to hell and prevented slacking, and not the disappointed one she often gave the unruly Sinners. Nightingale looked… worried.

‘Please, Chief.’

‘I—o-okay,’ Chief said. ‘Okay.’

Nightingale exaggerated her breathing motion, and Chief followed the pattern of her adjutant’s slow breaths.

‘From the diaphragm, Chief. From the belly.’

Right. Don’t lift the shoulders. Expand the diaphragm.

A few minutes later, Nightingale spoke again, softly. ‘Good girl, Chief.’

‘Good girl?’

A pause.

Nightingale chuckled.

Chief did, too.

‘Better?’ Nightingale asked.

‘Yeah, thanks.’

‘Good.’

‘Sorry…’

‘Don’t be.’

Chief didn’t realise they were still holding hands till Nightingale gave Chief’s hand another squeeze.

‘Really, thank you,’ Chief said with a smile. She was still embarrassed, still nervous, but so much better.

‘You’ll be fine, Chief. I believe in you.’

‘If you believe in me, then maybe I can believe in myself.’

‘Quite interesting that your usual confidence when facing life-threatening situations has simply evaporated in the face of a kissing booth,’ Nightingale teased.

‘I’ll have you know that I’m out of my element here.’

‘I’d be worried if you weren’t.’

‘Right.’

‘Hey.’

‘Hm?’ Chief tilted her head in question.

‘I’ll be in the same room with these.’ Nightingale patted her two holstered pistols.

I didn’t see her with those this morning.

‘If anything goes wrong, I’ve got you covered,’ Nightingale said.

‘I can’t tell if you’re joking.’

‘Your safety is never a joke to me, Chief.’

‘Okay.’ Chief found herself smiling again. ‘I’ll be relying on you, my adjutant.’

‘Of course.’

Someone banged on the door, causing them both to jump.

‘Come outta the closet already!’ Faye yelled. ‘It’s your time to shine, Chief. Stage is all yours!’

‘One moment!’ Chief replied. She took yet another deep breath and told herself she’d be fine. It wasn’t like any of the Sinners were going to devour her or anything. They were at the MBCC. Nightingale was going to be with her. With guns. Everything would go smoothly. Everything would be fine.

‘I’m not sure if I should tell you this,’ Nightingale said, voice almost a whisper. ‘But I want you to know.’

‘What is it?’

‘I’m going to be jealous watching you kiss all those people queuing up out there.’

‘Don’t be.’ She’s still trying to ease my anxiety with little jokes. I really lucked out with Nightingale as my adjutant.

‘Was I your first?’ Nightingale asked.

‘First?’

‘The first person you kissed.’

‘I’m… not sure. Amnesia, remember?’ Ha. Saying ‘remember’ after ‘amnesia’ is so messed up.

‘The time from after you woke up, then. Leading up to now. Was I the first?’

‘You—yeah. You were. You are.’ Wow, I haven’t had much of a love life since waking up. Just now with my adjutant—and not even on the lips—was my first kiss since regaining consciousness, and it’s been, what, two years now?

Nightingale smiled. ‘I’m glad. I’ll be content with it for now.’

For now? ‘What do you—’

‘I’ll be happier if I can be your last, too.’

What. As in that was my very last kiss? So, like, I’m going to die—that can’t be it. Oh. Does she mean that she wants to be the one I end up with or—

‘I bought a ticket as well,’ Nightingale said. ‘I’ll make sure I’m the last one in line.’

Oh. That’s what she meant. Of course. What in the black ring was I thinking. Today’s thoughts were a new level of mortifying for Chief. Get a grip!

‘CHIIIIIEF!’ Faye bellowed. ‘GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE ALREADY!’

‘I-I have to go,’ Chief said.

‘I’m right behind you.’

Chapter Text

The storage room was unrecognisable. Lights, signs, and balloons had been hung. Not a speck of a dust was visible. The warm lighting made for a relaxing and, dare Chief say, romantic atmosphere. Candles had been set up on the shelves—too close to the rose petals distributed all over the room and thus a fire hazard—and there was the faint scent of patchouli in the air.

Chief sat ramrod straight at the booth that the ducks had constructed. The sign above was bright with fluorescent lights, no text, just thick, red lips and hearts. Chief tapped her foot. Her heart was beating uncomfortably fast.

The double doors slid open. Flora, Peggy, Demolia, and Ariel had arrived as Chief’s first customers. They’d been let in one by one. Things were… fine. Completely okay, and that’s not being sarcastic. It truly had been fine. Chief had made light conversation with them, kissed them on the hand or cheek, and they parted with smiles on their faces. It was going so smoothly that Chief began to think she was a natural at this. Perhaps this could be her backup career if things went south at the MBCC.

The evening continued this way with a dozen of staff and Sinners visiting. Even Wynn had dropped by, though not for a kiss. The sweet girl simply wanted to check up on Chief and even gifted her a chocolate bar to keep Chief’s energy up. Bless the girl.

After fussing over Chief’s wellbeing, Cinnabar had been amusing, though not surprising, when she asked to be the one to kiss Chief instead of being on the receiving end. With consent, Chief let herself be tugged to the side of the booth. Cinnabar kneeled down and kissed the back of Chief’s hand like a knight in a fairy tale would. What a gentlewoman. Chief was glad that Faye made each interaction private. If Chief had been watched during all this kissing business, she’d have been burning with embarrassment.

OwO had passed by, without an admission ticket, for headpats. And Oliver had snuck in just to poke fun at Chief by singing ‘Chief and Sinners sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes lust, then no decorum, then comes the consequences of a workplace harem.’ What was once a children’s rhyme that could have been cute, had now been destroyed with a poor choice of words and offered a terrible mental image to all those who heard it.

‘Hey, Chief,’ Zoya said, striding up to the booth with her jacket over her shoulder. ‘Fancy meeting you here.’

‘Did you think it’d be someone cosplaying as me instead of the real thing?’

Zoya chuckled. ‘Anything’s possible in DisCity.’

‘You bought a ticket, and the MBCC has a reputation to uphold. Can’t be cheating our customers, can we?’

‘So you’re saying I’ll get what I paid for.’

‘Yeah.’ It suddenly occurred to Chief that she had no idea how much the tickets cost. ‘Say, how much did you pay to get in here?’

‘You don’t know?’

Chief shook her head. ‘I’ve been so busy that I delegated a lot to Faye. Nightingale might know, but I don’t.’

‘I see.’ Zoya smirked. ‘It was a bargain.’

‘So, how mu—’

‘I’m sure I paid for a kiss, not for this, Chief.’

‘Ah, right.’ It was fine. Chief could ask Nightingale later. She was just outside the room. Chief had seen her peek inside every single time the doors opened. ‘Do you want it on the hand or cheek?’

‘I’m sure you’ve got something better than that.’ She leaned, on the counter, towards Chief. ‘And I’m not one to be on the receiving end if you catch my drift.’ Her other hand ran up the back of Chief’s neck.

‘I, okay, sure.’ If Zoya wanted to kiss Chief like how Cinnabar did, that was fine. It didn’t really matter who kissed who.

Zoya leaned in, tilted her head.

Oh, she’s going for a cheek kiss. Zoya didn’t seem like the gallant type like Cinnabar. That was okay. Everyone’s different. Warm lips traced up Chief’s jawline. Her breath hitched. She froze. ‘Z-Zoya?’

‘Chief,’ Zoya said under her breath.

What should—could Chief say in a situation like this? ‘It’s, um, one kiss only.’ One kiss per ticket, and one ticket per person. No kissing on the lips. No swapping of spit. No getting nude. Nothing you wouldn’t do in front of a ten-year-old. Those were the rules.

Zoya pressed a long kiss to Chief’s jaw. ‘You should come find me sometime, out of work hours. I’ll be waiting,’ she whispered into Chief’s ear. With a smug smirk on her face, she turned, waving as she left without a look back.

‘The hell?’ Chief mumbled to herself.

Nightingale shot Chief a concerned look when the doors opened, and Chief smiled in reassurance. If her adjutant was worried, maybe Chief looked as red as she felt. Damn, it was getting hot in here. She shrugged off her grey coat and hung it up. Whoever made the booth had the foresight to add coat hooks at the side. She wondered which of the ducks had been responsible and if Faye was overworking them again.

Just as Chief pondered about how she was going to get through the rest of the day, she perked up as two of her favourite people in the world stepped through the doors.

‘You look like a dog whose owner just came home,’ Hella said. ‘Do you like me so much?’

‘Did you have a rough day, Chief?’ Hecate asked.

‘You don’t know how much you two soothe my heart.’

Hella fake gagged. ‘Quit being so dramatic.’ She scanned Chief, then narrowed her eyes. ‘Did something spicy happen? You’re so red.’

‘Hella,’ Hecate warned. ‘We’re here to make sure Chief’s okay, not to make things worse.’

‘I never agreed to that. You dragged me here.’

‘I couldn’t force you to come if you didn’t want to.’

‘I—that’s—whatever,’ Hella huffed.

Chief chuckled at the two young Sinners. She loved their little bickering. ‘Thanks for coming.’

Hecate shook her head, and Hella rolled her eyes.

‘I can’t believe you bought tickets to get in,’ Chief said.

Hecate shared a look with Hella. ‘The adjutant gave them to us.’

‘Oh.’ Of course she did. Always looking out for me. ‘Aren’t you supposed to enter individually, though? I thought it was part of the rules.’

‘What a weird ass rule. Some ducks tried to enforce it at the entrance till I brought out my pipe. Knew who was boss right after.’ Hella smiled smugly.

‘Hella, you can’t go around threatening people,’ Chief chided.

‘Don’t worry, Chief,’ Hecate said. ‘That didn’t happen. Hella brandished her weapon, and the ducks managed to wrestle it out of her hands when Faye brought reinforcements. Hella couldn’t fight off all the ducks.’

Chief frowned. ‘Lying isn’t good either.’

Hella shrugged, unbothered.

‘Then the adjutant convinced Faye to let us in together,’ Hecate added.

‘That shit—’

Chief shot Hella a pointed look.

‘That stuff is the dumbest thing ever,’ Hella corrected herself and continued. ‘Like, c’mon, really? Who’s going to complain about someone else entering with another person? All those thirsters in line out there want to have one-on-one time with you. Who’s gonna complain? Really? Who?’

‘Well, rules are rules,’ Chief said.

‘Made to be broken. You heard of that before? Make some stupid fucking rule and—what? Look, what the hell am I going to replace “fucking” with? Do you expect me to use “ducking” or something? I know you like the ducks, but I’m not as big of a fan of them as you are, Chief.’

‘Chief, Hella’s just annoyed that the ducks overpowered her earlier.’

‘That’s not it!’ Hella crossed her arms. ‘Not it at all.’

Chief shook her head in amusement. ‘Do you two want a kiss?’

Hella recoiled. ‘Ew, no, what?’

‘This is a kissing booth.’

‘That’s nasty,’ Hella said. ‘I’ll pass.’

‘It’s not on the mouth. I’ve been kissing hands and cheeks.’ Chief didn’t mention how Cinnabar was her gallant self, or how Zoya had kissed her on the jaw and left with a whispered invitation.

‘Still no. Pass.’

‘I’d like one, Chief,’ Hecate said.

‘You what?’ Hella shot Hecate a judging look.

‘Great, coming right up,’ Chief said with a smile. She found herself exiting the booth to wrap Hecate up in a gentle, then firm embrace. Hella cringed all the while, watching Hecate hug back somewhat awkwardly. ‘I really appreciate you coming by, Hecate.’

Hecate didn’t seem to know what to say, or perhaps she was enjoying being in Chief’s arms. Instead of speaking, she gripped tighter to the back of Chief’s shirt.

A moment later, Chief kissed Hecate on the forehead. ‘Thank you, Hecate.’

There was a soft smile on Hecate’s face. Emotions tended to be weak and subdued when Hecate expressed them. Damn those people who messed with her. But Chief had been with this girl long enough to know when she deeply appreciated something and when she cared.

Hecate stepped back and tugged on Hella’s grey jacket.

‘What?’ Hella asked, then found herself engulfed in Chief’s hug. There was no yelling or pushing to get away. Hella accepted the embrace. Her hands even came up to rest against Chief’s back.

‘Sorry, I’m not hurting you, am I?’ Chief asked, suddenly worried that she’d been squeezing too tight. It was better late than never to check.

‘No.’ Voice muffled in Chief’s shirt, Hella squeezed tighter. ‘I like it,’ she said quietly.

Chief smiled, stayed like that for a moment, then pecked Hella on the forehead. When they stepped back, Hella was avoiding eye contact. ‘Come here, you two.’ They shared a hug, all three of them together. It was warm. It was nice. It was perfect.

Hella and Hecate left Chief with the belief that maybe, just maybe, she could survive the rest of the night. Zoya had been a little too much too handle, but Chief had gotten through it. Fully recharged now, she was confident that she’d be able to face anything head-on. Thugs, mania, corruptors, all could be dealt with when Hella and Hecate were by her side. Now that they’d powered Chief up, she was ready.

The doors slid open. Nightingale’s previously worried face had been replaced with one of much deeper concern.

Chief smiled, wide. Why be worried when you can be happy? She gave Nightingale a thumbs up. Everything was going well.

And then Chief saw the red.

What hope she had gathered fizzled away.

Chapter Text

Trouble. Red was trouble. And trouble was pressing Chief down onto the counter in the form of a lady called Cabernet. What a bizarre situation. How did Chief always end up on tables when it came to this Sinner? Sure, the woman liked eating—being a gourmet and devouring souls was her thing—but the ability to get all her food on the table with little resistance was more of a skill for a cook or a hunter—oh, hunter. More like predator. Still, right, never mind. It made sense.

‘You smell intoxicating,’ Cabernet said, breath heavy and nuzzling her nose into Chief’s neck. ‘You’ll be delectable, Chief.’

‘Did you not read the rules? No kissing on—’

‘The lips. Yes, I know.’ Cabernet let go of one of Chief’s wrists, slid her hand into Chief’s, and intwined their fingers. ‘I won’t touch those lips of yours no matter how much they tempt me.’

Chief tried to extricate herself, but for someone who was so thin, Cabernet was still a Sinner with more strength than the Chief of MBCC who barely managed to pass her mandatory fitness test this year. It was impossible to budge the gourmet. ‘This is—you can’t—’

‘Yes, I can, Chief. The rules didn’t forbid anything other than mouth-to-mouth kissing.’

‘That’s—’ A warm tongue ran up Chief’s neck just above the edge of her turtleneck. The shock caused her vision to blur for a second. Then the Sinner’s lips latched onto Chief’s pulse. There was no doubt that there would be a hickey there. When Cabernet pulled back to meet her eyes, the Sinner’s long red hair tickled Chief’s cheek.

‘If you’ll allow me, I’ll truly savour you, Chief. What do you say? Nobody will know we broke the rules if neither of us say anything.’

‘Rules are rules.’ Chief tried to keep her voice steady. ‘Let go now. You’ve had your kiss.’

‘Such a rule was made to be broken by me,’ Cabernet said, pressing their bodies flush.

‘What is with you Sinner’s and breaking rules?’

Fingering Chief’s shirt collar, Cabernet smiled down at her. ‘Pesky buttons and a turtleneck, too. You really don’t like making things easy, do you? But no matter. A good meal is worth the effort.’

‘H-hold on!’ Chief’s hands, no longer restrained, shot to still Cabernet’s that had begun unbuttoning her shirt.

The sound of an explosion tore through the space. The doors burst open, and a dark blur shot towards the other end of the room. Zoya, the blur, stood up, and made a ‘come at me’ motion towards the corridor.

Rahu stepped through the doorway, kicked away a piece of the door in her path, and glared at Zoya. Using the timely distraction, Chief slipped away from Cabernet who eyed the two newcomers warily.

‘Waiting for your master’s orders, little pup?’ Zoya taunted.

Rahu didn’t react.

Shalom, calmly stepping into the room, was unfazed at the situation. Wearing her signature soft smile, she said, ‘Go ahead, Rahu.’

And in the blink of an eye, Rahu dashed, reappearing in front of Zoya. A strike that could have killed a normal human was blocked by Zoya’s claws. This time, Rahu was the one who was thrown across the room. There was a deafening sound and a new crater in the opposite wall.

‘You’re not as weak as I thought.’ Purple energy rushed out of Zoya. ‘Let’s get serious.’

Rahu matched her with her own equivalent of Zoya’s purple super Saiyan mode. If one hadn’t been intimidated by Rahu’s cool demeanour and cutting gaze, the red aura that now surrounded her would have everyone fucking right off.

They pounced on each other. The two fighters clashed over and over, too fast for the human eye to keep up with.

Alarmed, Chief looked to Shalom. There would be no help from the lady from Paradeisos. Behind Shalom, Chief could see a group of curious Sinners. They began filtering into the room. There looked to be wine and beer in their hands, and the younger ones were guzzling energy drinks.

‘WENDY, NO!’ Nightingale’s voice boomed in the corridor as the sound of a chainsaw reverberated off the walls.

The Shackles, Chief reminded herself. She should use them. But she didn’t want to if she didn’t have to. A quick glance around her. I must—

Levy and Wolverine tumbled through the crowd. They landed on the floor. The pair were having a scrap as the onlookers cheered them on.

What the hell was going on? Why were people beating each other up?

Fire.

Red flames filled the doorway. Chief dashed towards the searing heat. Nightingale and others were still in there! What happened? Yao? Ignis? Hestia? Who was responsible? Why had alcohol and energy drinks been distributed?

Sharp light cut through the room before Chief reached the entrance. She ducked and covered her head, not to avoid the laser that had sliced through the wall, but from the dust and debris that had rained down due to the end of the laser beam dragging through the ceiling. When she glanced up, time seemed to warp. An enormous chunk of concrete, reinforced by steel, came crashing straight down. She was going to get skewered, crushed, likely both.

I had a feeling I’d die at the kissing booth, but I didn’t think it would be like this.

Chapter Text

Something tackled into Chief’s side. Her breath was knocked out of her from the impact, leaving her feeling nauseous on the floor.

‘Are you all right?’ a deep voice asked.

Bright yellow eyes shined through the dust cloud. Red gloves. Ombre black and white hair.

‘Angell.’ Chief coughed, trying to wave the floating dust out of her face. ‘Nice timing.’

The other Sinners were either screaming or partying. It was dangerous here. Someone needed to direct them outside to safety and—another laser tore through the room.

After a lingering look at Chief’s neck, Angell picked her up and carried her over a shoulder like a bag of flour. It reminded Chief of the first time they met—when Angell kidnapped her. Heading for the back exit, Angell sprinted through the battling Sinners and slid under a laser beam. It could have sliced them into two or technically four in this case.

‘Wait, the corridor!’ Chief couldn’t make out what was happening around her. ‘Nightingale and—’

‘They’re fine. Faye and some yellow creatures are putting out the fire. Your adjutant had another Sinner in handcuffs. Told me to protect you.’

‘Oh,’ Chief sighed. ‘Thank God.’

‘I was going to come get you either way,’ Angell mumbled, ‘even if your adjutant didn’t ask.’ She skidded to a stop in front of two heavy doors. ‘Hold onto me.’ Then she whipped her sword out of its sheath. It had been a flash of silver lines at different angles, and the metal barring their exit slid apart into pieces, crashing to the floor in a heap. With her tied up, thigh-length hair trailing in the wind, Angell carried Chief out of the MBCC building.

Once in front of Angell’s motorcycle, Chief was carefully let down onto her own feet.

Angell tossed Chief a helmet, climbed onto the bike, and signalled for Chief to do the same.

The eastern wing of the MBCC was fine, but large plumes of black smoke billowed upwards from the location of the depot. The sound of sirens from emergency services neared. Chief was thankful the MBCC was only a few minutes away from a fire station. They’d required their aid once every two months lately…

Angell reached for Chief’s wrist and shook her head at Chief when she turned towards the building.

‘I have to get things under control,’ Chief said. She had a responsibility to stay.

‘You’re in no shape to do that.’

‘I…’ The helmet in Chief’s hands shook with a faint tremor. Why was she shaking? She needed to be in there. She needed to restore order. Why was she hesitating?

‘Come with me,’ Angell said softly. ‘You’ll help everyone by being gone.’

Chief’s heart dropped. ‘What?’

‘Bad phrasing, sorry. I mean from work. For a while. You need a break.’

At the mention of needing some time away from the MBCC, Chief felt her body become slow and heavy like she was moving through syrup. Maybe she should listen to Angell. Her body liked the idea. Her mind on the other hand…

‘It’s for your own good, Chief. Think about it.’ A pause. Angell let go of Chief’s wrist. ‘If you don’t come, I’ll kidnap you again.’

It was hard to tell if Angell was joking or not, but Chief got the feeling that she was serious. This Sinner had kidnapped Chief before just to keep her safe from hitmen. There was no reason to not believe Angell when she said she’d do it again if it was for Chief’s own benefit.

Chief wanted to get away. Desperately. Just half a day. That should be okay, right? The MBCC survived without her when she was in that coma. They could survive a handful of hours without her now. How much money will we need? 300,000 won’t cover the new damages. Her temples throbbed with a dull ache.

Angell held out a hand, inviting.

‘I won’t be able to cook you red bean soup or anything with how I am now,’ Chief tried to joke. ‘You still want me to come over?’ But even as she said this, she had been reaching out to the grasp the smooth leather that covered Angell’s waiting hand.

‘Don’t worry about that.’ Angell tugged Chief closer, took the helmet from her, and popped it on Chief’s head. ‘Just worry about holding onto me.’

The ride had been smooth and quick. They’d arrived at Angell’s safe house within minutes, and now Chief was in bed after changing into clothes that the Sinner lent her. Chief had been in such a rough state that she couldn’t even unbutton her shirt, and Angell had to help her get changed. Perhaps on a normal day when she wasn’t so worn out, Chief would have blushed, but tonight, she was just thankful for Angell being here.

As she sank into the soft mattress and the fluffy pillows, Chief remembered about the conversation she had with Du Ruo. Perhaps the MBCC has bad feng shui? Maybe she should ask Du Ruo for help with adjusting the entire bureau. But if the location was bad, or if the land was cursed, or… Chief’s was exhausted. She craved sleep, but her mind wouldn’t calm down. It was like a rodent with an addiction to the hamster wheel, constantly spinning.

Angell slid off the side of the bed and kneeled on the floor. She folded her arms, resting them on the mattress. With her face right in front of Chief’s, she held eye contact. Then, she began to hum a soft tune that carried Chief off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Brain getting its bearings and body sluggish, Chief woke up. As she blinked her bleary eyes, she thought about how she used to always sleep on Angell’s couch. Then, wordlessly, Angell had her migrate to the shared bed one day. It’d been so natural that they’d never even talked about it.

In front of Chief, who stayed lying under the covers, Angell was in the same position she was last seen in. The only difference was that she was now resting her head on her folded arms upon the mattress, and she was asleep. It must have felt terrible to have sat on the floor, between all the clutter, for so long. And she’d gone the entire night in this position judging from the look of things.

It was rare for Angell to sleep when Chief did. Whenever Chief spent time with Angell, the woman would stay up to keep watch for assassins and troublemakers. Chief had thought it unnecessary until a man tried to climb through the window holding a gun with a silencer attached and a machete slung over his back.

Seeing Angell now, shallow breaths, eyes closed, and a peaceful expression on her face, Chief felt a warmth in her chest. She liked this. If only the world wasn’t so harsh, then Angell could sleep soundly with no disturbances. It wasn’t like the woman was scared of intruders or conflict, but she slept poorly no matter what. They’d discovered that it might be because she had a habit of kicking off the blanket mid-sleep, which was unspeakably cute, but Chief knew it ran deeper than that.

Gently, Chief brushed Angell’s hair to the side of her face, and Angell stirred awake. ‘Sorry,’ Chief said. Unsure what had compelled her to reach out and do such a thing.

Angell opened her eyes. Intense yellow stared at Chief, reminding her of a cat. ‘No, I’m sorry. I was supposed to keep guard.’ She gave Chief a quick scan. ‘I’m glad nothing happened.’ She yawned, eyes lingering on Chief’s neck again.

‘When was the last time you’d slept?’ Chief asked. She had no intention to sit up just yet. It was comfortable like this. Why had Angell been staring at her neck since last night? Chief touched below her jaw, felt nothing but smooth skin.

‘Yesterday,’ Angell answered.

‘How long?’

‘Three hours.’

Chief had a feeling it couldn’t have been much, and she was right.

‘I don’t sleep well,’ Angell said. ‘And I had a lot of extra commissions so,’ she shrugged, ‘less sleep.’ At Chief’s deep sigh, Angell added, ‘I’ll sleep some more later.’

Chief stared.

‘I promise,’ Angell said.

‘A full eight hours.’

‘That’s—’

‘You told me you sleep better with me around. I can cover you up if you kick your blanket off, so I’ll stay till you’re rested.’

‘And what about work at the MBCC?’ Angell asked.

‘I thought you wanted me to take a break, get some rest myself?’

‘Yes.’ Angell looked conflicted for some reason. It was almost like she wanted Chief to stay but was also worried about her work responsibilities. Since when was Angell worried about Chief’s relationship with the MBCC? Maybe Chief was reading too much into it.

‘What’s the date?’ Chief asked.

‘Twelfth.’

Chief smiled. ‘Coincidentally, today was supposed to be a rest day for me.’

‘Coincidentally.’

It was the truth, and it was the reason why Faye had scheduled the kissing booth for yesterday. She figured that Chief would be worn out and unable to work the day after. Faye had been correct for once.

Angell hummed in acceptance when Chief explained this to her.

‘I don’t think I’d manage anything today that’s MBCC related to be honest,’ Chief said. ‘Last night was too chaotic.’

‘All right. Stay.’

‘I will. Hey, why were you at the MBCC yesterday? And you even knew where to find me.’

‘I caught wind of a kissing booth with you being involved. Had a feeling something was going to go wrong.’

‘News travels fast, huh?’

‘The dark web has its ways.’

A phone on the nightstand lit up. Chief glanced at it, recognised it as her phone, and ignored the message. If it was important, they’d call through the emergency channel. She sat up and lifted her arms to the ceiling, then groaned at the relief of her muscles getting a nice stretch. ‘I’m going to borrow the bathroom.’

‘Spare toothbrush in the cabinet,’ Angell said.

Chief raised a brow.

‘Nothing wrong with being prepared.’

‘You. Prepared. With things in this apartment?’ Chief remembered how back when she first stayed with Angell, the woman didn’t even have a kitchen knife. Her solution had been handing her sword over to Chief who needed to cut up some chicken for dinner. Cooking with a lack of the right tools had been mighty challenging.

‘I try now,’ Angell said. ‘For you.’

Chief was at a loss for words. ‘T-thank you.’

Angell nodded. She looked unaffected after flustering Chief.

‘Are there ingredients in the fridge?’ Chief asked. ‘Or do you want to go shopping together?’

‘There’s enough for a few days.’

Chief was curious. ‘Ingredients for red bean soup?’

‘You don’t have to cook. Just rest. I’ll order our meals.’

‘I want to, though. It’s your favourite, right? My red bean soup.’

Angell nodded, and Chief could see that Angell wanted the soup in those golden eyes of hers. It was interesting how Chief had gotten better at reading Angell now. She’d learned a lot from the time they’ve spent together.

‘Then, let me cook for you today,’ Chief said. ‘It’ll help me destress, and I’ll be happy to see you enjoy something you like. Let me feel proud of myself by doing something that isn’t saving DisCity for a bit.’

‘Okay.’

‘You’re not going to argue and say that cooking for you also counts as saving DisCity?’

‘Do you want me to?’

‘No’

Silence.

Angell had made her point.

Chief used to think that in addition to this Sinner’s muted taste, she lacked emotion. But that wasn’t true. Angell simply didn’t express them strongly like most people did. The emotions were still there if you looked for them. And once you knew how to look for them, you wouldn’t believe how stupid you’d been to have ever considered that Angell was emotionless.

The phone on the nightstand lit up again. Faye had left a whole wall of messages. Something about selling mugs or maybe hugs. Chief didn’t want to think about the debt, the money-making, or Faye for at least one day. Reality will force Chief back to it tomorrow. If Faye was messaging about her money-making ideas, then nobody was injured too badly. For now, Chief would focus on herself. Herself and Angell. Yawning again, Chief headed to the bathroom with a smile on her face.

Chapter Text

The set of silk pyjamas that Angell let Chief borrow fitted perfectly. Odd, considering that the trousers were the correct length when she was shorter than Angell by a considerable amount. Chief wasn’t short, but Angell was tall. So tall that there was no way that these pyjamas would fit her properly. Did she buy the wrong size? Wait. The realisation brought a chuckle out of Chief. Angell couldn’t find something that fit her long legs, so she had to settle for this. That must be it.

Chief washed up in the familiar bathroom. A once over in the mirror, and she’d be ready to get on with her day. The blood drained from her face then flooded it as quick as it had left. She burst out of the bathroom, almost tripped on a misplaced shoe, and yelled for Angell.

‘What’s wrong?’ Angell asked, clearly (only to Chief) alarmed.

‘I, um, do you have a scarf or something I could borrow?’

Angell glanced at Chief’s hand that was clasped over the left side of her neck. ‘Closet. Or maybe in here.’ She began to dig through a pile of clothes on the floor as Chief beelined for the closet.

Throwing the doors open, Chief found leather jackets and trousers, pyjamas, robes, and even a beautiful qipao, but no scarf or accessory to cover the damn hickey that Cabernet had left behind. She was about to crouch down and search through the cardboard boxes below when she felt something soft on her skin. She turned, found Angell tying a black silk scarf around her with tender care. If there was a witness, surely, they’d have thought the two of them were girlfriends, or maybe even wives.

‘This should work for now,’ Angell said. ‘I’m not sure I have anything else.’

Chief tugged on the smooth fabric. Angell seemed to like silk. She slept in it, too. ‘Thanks.’ A second wave of embarrassment flooded Chief. First from remembering the origins of the hickey, now from realising how panicked she’d acted. ‘So this was why you kept staring at my neck, huh?’ She chuckled awkwardly and hurried to the kitchen. ‘I-I’ll make us breakfast!’

#

At the small dining table in the kitchen, Chief sat with Angell. They both tucked into a plate of eggs and bacon in comfortable silence. Chief would have liked to have made pancakes—she’d discovered a red bean pancake recipe last month and was curious if Angell would like it—but there hadn’t been the right ingredients here. She would have also liked to have congee (a savoury rice porridge) as a light breakfast to sooth herself after yesterday’s chaos, but that would have taken much longer to make than what they were already eating. Yaotiu would be nice with congee, she thought, then realised that the oily fried dough sticks would defeat the purpose of the initial idea which was to have a light breakfast. They were so good to dip into congee, though...

The toaster dinged. Two pieces of toast shot up at the same time. Forget pancakes, congee, and yaotiu, Chief would be happy with her bacon, eggs, and toast. She was grateful that she’d survived yesterday. One piece of toast for herself and one for Angell. Then another five slices for Angell. She really could eat a lot. There were quite a few Sinners that had black holes for stomachs now that Chief thought about it. Maybe it was a common symptom.

‘Thoughts on what to eat for lunch?’ Chief asked.

‘This is lunch.’

Chief glanced at the clock ticking on the wall. ‘It’s… oh.’ Did we sleep that long? Why do I feel like I’ve only had a short nap? She looked at Angell. There were faint dark circles under her eyes. She definitely didn’t get enough sleep, but it made sense since who the hell would be well rested sleeping while sitting on the floor like Angell had?

‘Should we plan for dinner, then?’ Angell asked, corner of a piece of toast between her fingers.

‘Sure, what are you thinking?’

‘Pizza.’

‘Pizza? I don’t know if I can make that well,’ Chief said.

‘From the local pizzeria.’

‘You don’t like my cooking that much?’

Angell’s eyes seemed to widen almost imperceptibly for a split second.

Chief kept the pout off her face because a chief did not pout, or so she told herself. ‘I know tha—’

‘I just want you to get more rest.’

‘But last night you agreed to let me cook, remember?’

‘I’ll go get the pizza.’

It would be a lie if Chief said she wasn’t hurt at least a little bit. She’d improved in her cooking a lot since the first time she’d met Angell. Maybe it still wasn’t good enough. ‘No delivery?’

‘I drive faster, so it’ll be warmer.’

‘Don’t speed. Too much. Or at all.’

Angell looked directly into Chief’s eyes. ‘You can make the red bean soup.’

Chief blinked. The hurt evaporated, and a smile bloomed on her face. ‘Okay.’

#

Chief had no idea what the pizzas were called, but they were delicious. Angell had returned home with five large pizzas. Seeing someone buy so much food for only two people would have surprised Chief if it wasn’t Angell. It was fine, though, Angell didn’t waste food.

There had been a pizza with goat’s cheese, mozzarella, spinach, olives, and tiny red peppers on top of a tomato sauce and crispy dough base. It was Chief’s favourite. The one with the eggs was pretty good as well to Chief’s surprise. Who thought of putting eggs on pizza in the first place? Well, whoever it was, good job. Even the pineapple pizza was tasty, but the one with the pepperoni was a bit boring, and she couldn’t even remember what the fifth had been.

‘Tired?’ Angell asked next to Chief. They were in bed, propped up by pillows and covered by the duvet. A movie played on the laptop in front of them.

‘No, well, actually, maybe a little.’ It was hard to not be tired after all the chaos at the MBCC day in day out. It was a constant there, but here, Chief got to have a brief respite away from all the havoc. ‘I was just thinking about all the pizza. Best pizza I’ve had, I think.’

‘Not better than your red bean soup.’

Chief chuckled. ‘I don’t know how you managed to eat four and a half pizzas and still had room for three large bowls of soup.’

‘I don’t know either. There’s always room for your red bean soup.’

There was a succession of loud bangs as the man in the action movie shot at his pursuers. Somehow, he’d missed every single shot. How is this guy a top agent… Chief thought, regretting her movie choice. Still, even if he was failing, he was moving forward. He was doing things. Nothing fazed him. Unlike me. ‘I froze…’

Angell turned to look at her.

‘Back at the MBCC. I panicked.’ Why was she telling Angell this? They were having a good day. She shouldn’t ruin it. Don’t bother her with the depressing, annoying talk. This is for me to deal with, not… But she found herself speaking anyway. ‘The Shackles…’

The laptop clicked shut, and Angell put it on her nightstand to give Chief her full attention.

See what you’ve done now? Chief thought, regretting that she opened her mouth.

‘What about the Shackles?’ Angell prompted.

Chief met the gaze of gold eyes, warm, inviting. ‘I could have used them to try to get things under control, but I didn’t. I kind of just freaked out, and I’m not supposed to do that.’

‘Uncontrollable Sinners and part of the building lit ablaze would scare most people.’

‘But I’m not most people. I’m not supposed to be most people. I’m the Chief of the MBCC. I’ve been trained to perform under pressure and—’ Calm down, Chief told herself. The volume of her voice dropped. ‘I didn’t even issue commands like I should have. I was useless.’

‘Making mistakes because you were overwhelmed—’

‘Is inexcusable as Chief.’

‘I’m sure there are those who would disagree.’

‘Really,’ Chief scoffed. ‘Who?’

‘Me, your adjutant, everyone who knows you’ve been overworking yourself, and probably any other decent, understanding person.’

‘Is this you trying to praise yourself as a decent and understanding person?’

Angell stared at her.

‘It’s okay, I know you’re a good person, Angell.’

‘You’re trying to change the topic. You worried about my sleep, and you asked me when the last time was when I’d gotten a good rest, but let me ask you now, Chief, when was the last time you had a proper rest?’

‘I had a day off on—’

‘Just having time off doesn’t mean you managed your stress levels well. Neither does it mean that your rest was refreshing. You need to look after yourself.’

‘I know,’ Chief said. She really did know. It was just easier to not look after herself. There was always so much to do and so little time.

‘You’ll just make more mistakes and function at suboptimal levels if you don’t.’

‘Right.’

A pause.

‘And you’ll make me worry,’ Angell said softly.

‘I…’ Chief was making so many people worry these days. Why was she doing this? Maybe she really did need to stop running this imaginary race as a never-ending sprint and more as a marathon with pit stops along the way. Multiple marathons, maybe. Whatever it was, she couldn’t go on like she did. It wasn’t fair to those around her.

Angell shuffled closer. Her arm pressed into Chief’s. Then, Angell took Chief’s hand into her own under the duvet. Her grip was firm. ‘I trust you’ll be fine if you get some good rest.’

Chief leaned into Angell’s side. Her eyelids felt heavier as if agreeing with what Angell had just said. ‘You make me worry, too, with how little you’re sleeping. Didn’t you promise me to get some sleep today? Eight hours.’

‘I should stay on guard.’

‘You’ve set those traps up. It’ll be fine.’

‘You can never be too sure, but…’

‘But?’ It was getting hard for Chief to keep her eyes open. Holy shit. I really am tired. So damn tired.

‘I bought a ticket to the kissing booth. Do you think you can fulfill it? Or should I get a refund…’

Was that nervousness that Chief detected in Angell’s almost undetectable face? ‘You bought a ticket?’

‘I did.’

‘How?’

‘You can buy them on the dark web.’

‘How do you know they’re not fake?’

‘Because the lady working at your supply office sold them.’

‘Purple hair?’

‘And sunglasses.’

‘Faye?’

‘Yes.’

‘Huh,’ Chief said flatly.

‘You can check my ticket if you want.’

Chief found herself laughing at the ridiculous situation she was in. What kind of conversation was this? She shook her head. ‘C’mere.’ She reached over with her free hand that wasn’t holding Angell’s, tilted the Sinner’s head by the chin, and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

Those golden irises of Angell’s thinned as her pupils dilated. She reached for Chief’s pyjamas, tugging on the fabric at the hem. Then she leaned back, away, and let go. ‘We should sleep.’ She reached for the small remote on the nightstand and turned the lights off with the press of a button. ‘Good night.’

And Chief didn’t know what was wrong with her, but that look of Angell’s, like she wanted something more but couldn’t ask for it… It made Chief lean over and kiss her again. Not on the lips but almost. Almost…

There was a sharp intake of breath from Angell. A moment later, she pulled the duvet they were sharing up higher and tucked it in around Chief. ‘We’ll get just over eight hours if we sleep now.’

Chief yawned, melting into the softness that surrounded her. ‘Good night, Angell.’

‘Good night, Chief.’

Chapter Text

The chair in Chief’s office at the MBCC felt like home. How much time has her butt spent in this seat? She’d miss it when they would have to replace the chair.

‘You look good, Chief!’ Faye dragged a chair of her own over to the side of the desk. She’d sat there last time and seemed to like that exact spot for some reason. Maybe it was for feng shui or something. Chief herself had set up three cups of water at three locations in her office to boost her wealth luck. Du Ruo said cups of water were cheap and effective ways to influence the energies of past, present, and future wealth. Chief wasn’t sure if she believed in it, but every little helped.

‘I managed to get a full eight hours of sleep last night,’ Chief said, feeling proud about it. ‘And I feel refreshed.’ Next to her, Nightingale stifled a laugh.

‘Wow, really?’ Faye looked over the rim of her sunglasses. ‘What happened?’

‘I spent a day away from this Godforsaken place.’

‘I see. That’s good!’

It was. Chief felt recharged—not fully, but maybe around three-quarters—and ready to take on anything.

‘You’ll be happy to find that the damage we sustained from the kissing booth event wasn’t that bad,’ Faye said.

Good news right off the bat. What a great start to the day in addition to Chief’s eight hours of rest.

‘We’re only down 700,000 DisCoins,’ Faye said.

It was as if time froze. What did Faye just say? What dimension was this? Chief must still be sleeping. She was still in the realm of dreams.

‘Chief,’ Nightingale said. ‘Come back.’

‘Huh? Oh, right. So, we’re still on track to make up our 300k for duck damages, right?’

‘Uhhhhh,’ Faye glanced at Nightingale. ‘No? I said we’re down 700,000.’

‘Didn’t we make about 100,000 in total?’ Chief smiled, but it felt wobbly. ‘So it’s actually 600,000, then.’

‘No, no, no. That would be the case if part of the depot didn’t get torched when you were busy smoochin’ all the Sinners, but our path to full repairs got wrecked because of all the brawling, the lasers, and the barbecue. We had to give refunds to people who couldn’t use their tickets, too.’

‘The barbecue?’

‘Yeah, that’s why there was a fire. MBCC staff thought it’d be a good idea to have a barbecue in the corridor while the Sinners waited for their turn to kiss you.’

‘Why?...’

Faye rubbed her fingers and thumb together in the universal gesture that came with the cha ching sound effect for money. ‘Plain hotdogs were going for two hundred whole DisCoins. It was good money. And hey, before you ask, no, it wasn’t my idea, and I didn’t give permission. What sort of dumbass would sell food and alcohol in my supply office? The money’s for me to make, not them!’

‘Right…’

‘It’s my territory!’

‘Wait, back to the maths. So we’re, what, negative 700k now?’

‘No, the total we’re at is minus 949,999 DisCoins. That’s the exact number.’

Oh. Chief covered her face with both hands. Fuck.

‘Isn’t it cool that we’re one DisCoin short to round it up to one million?’ Faye asked.

‘No,’ Chief said, trying not to groan. ‘It’s close enough to be nine fifty which is close enough to be one million.’

‘Hey, 50,001 DisCoins isn’t small money.’

If you put it that way, it’s true, Chief thought. Needing to make an extra 50k would be tougher than just the nine fifty. The problem was that even though she knew that, she couldn’t quite bring herself to celebrate how she didn’t need exactly one million DisCoins. ‘Faye, did you calculate this right? Because one million…’

‘Yeah, well, you could also ask the finance department. They checked it over, and, well, they actually did most of the math. I just handed over the quotes I got from contractors and stuff.’

‘But one million. That’s insane.’

‘Not really. Not when you consider how many millions we’ve been using not to just keep the MBCC running, but literally how much we’ve been dumping into the Sinners themselves. It costs an average of over 700k for a single S-class Sinner’s treatment, and that’s not including what we pay for materials,’ Faye said. ‘How many Sinners do we have here again?’

‘You’re right, it’s just difficult to wrap my head around it. The damn alcohol and energy drinks. The stupid barbeque.’

‘Anger’s not good for you,’ Nightingale commented. ‘But get it out.’’

Chief let out a string of curse words. She felt much better afterwards. ‘Is there any way we can make do with less than a million?’

‘I did say it was 949,999 we needed, not one million.’

‘Lower? Can we put off some of the repairs for a while? Maybe ask some Sinners and MBCC staff to volunteer and cut down on labour costs?’

‘I’d already factored that in. Without it, we’d actually be hitting one million exactly, y’know?’

Chief felt her soul try to slip out of her body. She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the ceiling. Why was she Chief? Maybe she should get a new job. Would the MBCC let her resign? Things were more than a bit complicated when it came to her relationship with her workplace.

‘Move past the depression, Chief,’ Nightingale said gently.

‘We’re also going to need the funds before next year,’ Faye added.

‘What?’ Chief’s eyes shot wide open. There were only about six months left till the new year.

‘A lot of the stuff that got torched were actually medical supplies that are constantly in use. And there are lots of materials that the Sinners use to train and manage their powers along with their health. If they don’t get them on time, their conditions might become unstable because mania and stuff.’

Chief felt a tight band of pain around her head. Perfect timing for a headache.

‘I can get us some supplies to tide us over till next year, but it’s hard when you don’t order wholesale, so we’re really going to be needing that money to order in bulk as soon as possible. I can’t guarantee we’ll be getting deliveries on time otherwise.’

‘Right. The smaller suppliers won’t work for what we need.’

‘Yup, not their fault. I’m just thankful they’re still around for us, or we’d be screwed at a time like this. But to keep our discounts and contracts with the larger suppliers, we’re going to need to be able to pay by the end of the year at the latest.’

‘I see.’

‘By the way, Anne was especially concerned when I spoke to her yesterday. She said they were already running low on tentacles, and that she doesn’t know what to do for Coquelic if they do run out.’

Lord help me. If anything happens to Coquelic, the entire Garden would go on a rampage. Who knows how much blood would be shed? ‘We’re raising one million, then. Better to aim high.’ If they have a little extra money, it can be used to cushion whatever disaster happens next. Hopefully.

‘And Ariel is also quite dependent on the gel—wait, you’re onto the acceptance stage already? That was surprisingly fast.’

‘It could have been much worse, Chief,’ Nightingale said. ‘Flora helped a lot with putting out the fire. Without her, the whole depot could have easily been turned to ashes.’

‘We should thank Flora,’ Chief said.

‘I was thinking we could make her our Sinner of the month,’ Nightingale said.

‘Let’s do that. Make sure she gets that certificate.’

‘All right.’ Nightingale tapped on her tablet.

‘One milllion DisCoins,’ Chief murmured.

‘One million DisCoins,’ Nightingale confirmed.

‘I’ve asked if it’s been miscalculated already, haven’t I?’ Chief said.

‘Aaaaaaaactually,’ Faye began tapping on her chin, ‘I could run the numbers myself as well as get finance to check again. I could also get new quotations from different contractors and stuff, too? But it might end up higher than—’

‘All right, one million it is.’

Chief gave herself a light slap on both cheeks. ‘So, how are we going to do this? Another kissing booth? With tighter security to prevent barbecues and bad behaviour this time?’

‘I like your energy, Chief,’ Faye said. ‘But the kissing booth idea is old now. We need something better. And something that won’t get everyone so horn—I mean, excited. If we do something a little calmer, it should be easier to handle.’

‘Yeah, okay. That sounds good.’ Chief was inwardly relieved at the suggestion.

‘So, I’ve been thinking…’

The way that Faye trailed off at the end of her sentence had Chief worried. Whatever this was, it was going to be dreadful. She knew it would be.

‘We could set up a hugging booth!’

Oh.

‘What do you think, Chief?’

‘That sounds…’

Faye’s eyes were bright and sparkling.

‘…pretty fucked up.’ Hugs. You couldn’t charge for hugs. It wasn’t right. It just wasn’t.

‘What?’ Faye looked genuinely confused.

‘You can’t sell hugs, Faye.’

‘But you were okay with the kissing booth.’

‘Hugs are sacred. They’re the one thing I won’t allow you to put a price on. Do not taint the loving embrace with an exchange of money.’

‘Faye looked to Nightingale for help. ‘Uhhhhh’

Nightingale kept her eyes on the tablet. She was still tapping and swiping on it. ‘As Chief says.’

‘Oookay, so, hugs are off limits. But you said hugs are the “one thing” that’s a nono. Is it the one and only thing? Everything else is fine?’

‘Yes,’ Chief answered.

‘Within reason,’ Nightingale added.

Chief nodded. ‘Within reason.’ She was glad for the clarification Nightingale added. The idea of putting a price tag on hugs had angered Chief so much that it almost clouded her mind. I’m the Chief. I have to stay cool.

‘Awwwww, big shame.’ Faye slumped in her chair. ‘I was sure the money would come flooding in with the hugs. It’s kinda funny that you’re drawing the line at hugs, though. Who woulda thought? The MBCC Chief keeping the act of hugging pure and uncorrupted, huh?’

‘The act of hugging is—’

‘Sacred. Yes, yes. I know.’

‘I was going to s—’

‘That it’s a holy ritual or something?’

‘No. I was going to say wonderful.’

‘Wonderful.’

‘Yes, it’s simply sublime, isn’t it? When one comes together to share in the—’

‘Oooooookay. I don’t know if it’s the eight hours of sleep you got, but maybe you need to get back into the groove of things or something, yeah, Chief? Do some work around the MBCC, and I’ll come back with a new idea or a couple.’ Faye’s gaze wandered to the left as she muttered something about bidding.

‘I do have to visit some Sinners just to touch base,’ Chief said.

‘‘kay, good. You do that. I have some things I need to put together—I promise they’re not hugging related—so I’ll see you later!’ Faye dashed out of the office.

‘Did I say something wrong?’ Chief asked Nightingale.

‘No, I think she’s just excited with whatever’s in her head,’ Nightingale said.

‘Should I be worried?’

‘Too late for that.’

‘You’re right.’

‘Of course. Here you go, Chief.’ Nightingale slid her tablet towards Chief.

‘What’s this?’

‘An account of the transactions made for the kissing booth. I was speaking to finance about it, and they drew this up for me.’

The spreadsheet showed numbers ranging from one DisCoin to thousands as payment for the tickets. ‘Why are the tickets priced differently?’

‘Faye made it so that if you aren’t wealthy, you get a discount. Kids entered free.’

‘What wild business practices…’ 20,000 DisCoins from Cabernet? That was what her ticket had cost? Chief tugged at her turtleneck that covered the hickey on her skin. Maybe it was a good thing that Cabernet had gotten her kiss, then. They didn’t have to refund her money back. But it felt a little… gross. It was like Chief was selling herself. But 20,000… No, it was a one-time thing. They’ll think of other ways to make up the one million they need without selling any more kisses and definitely not by selling hugs.

Chapter Text

Chief punched the button for floor twelve and leaned back onto one of the walls inside the elevator. The shift from moving against gravity always made her stomach flip a little, but this time she was plain nauseous. Six months. She had six months to make one million DisCoins. Would it be more likely for an asteroid to pulverised them, turn DisCity to dust?

What was that story where some guy touched things and they turned to gold? Minas? Mikas? No, Midas, maybe. Whatever he was called didn’t matter. Chief needed a Sinner with that power. The gold market likely wouldn’t be affected much if they sold one million worth of the stuff, right? The MBCC didn’t have a Sinner who could turn things to gold... But they had Countess Chelsea... Gems sold for just as much if not more.

We can’t be doing things like that. No using the Sinners. We have to make our own money. The easier path was always so tempting, but Chief was never one to take the easy way out if it meant not doing things properly. You could say she had integrity, or she was stupid. Perhaps both.

‘Hello, Chief.’

Chief’s head snapped up. She’d been lost in thought, staring at the floor, and didn’t notice the elevator doors had opened. ‘Hi.’

Adela stepped in. The doors slid closed.

It always amazed Chief how Adela’s short, black-blue hair could be so stylish with loose strands, looking as if they were swept by the wind. The white locks that framed her face at the front had no right to look so cool either. I’d never be able to pull a hairstyle like that off.

‘Are you all right, Chief?’ Adela asked.

‘I’m fine, thanks. How are you?’ Chief almost cringed at her robotic response. She knew Adela. They got along well, and Chief always appreciated her friendliness. So why did she react like they were strangers?

Adela tilted her head a little as if questioning the same thing. ‘I’m well, thank you.’

‘Where to?’ Chief asked, so she could press the button. The lift had stopped at the floor that Adela got on at. The same floor where Chief needed to go find Chameleon, working in one of the clinic rooms, and see if she had any ideas for dealing with stress. Maybe get a prescription for some sleeping pills since there was no way Chief was going to snooze well tonight. Going to Iron or the other medical staff would work, too. But their prescription would come with a lecture.

Adela ignored Chief’s question. ‘You’re a little pale.’ She stepped closer, concern in her eyes.

Chief glanced to the side. The metal walls weren’t reflective enough to use as a mirror, but she could make out vague shapes and colours that were her. I looked good this morning. I’d had all that rest. She didn’t feel the same as when she woke up today. It was quite amazing what some bad news could do to a person. One million… She sighed, mind drifting off. Then she felt her hair shift on her forehead.

Adela was brushing Chief’s hair out of her eyes. When she was done, she reached for a longer lock from the side of Chief’s face, slid her fingers through the strands, and inspected the ends. ‘This isn’t good, Chief.’

‘What? What isn’t good?’ More bad news. Great.

‘You’ve got split ends.’

Chief looked down at Adela’s gloved hands still holding her hair. ‘I guess one night of good sleep didn’t heal my hair.’

‘Would you like to pop over to mine for a haircut?’

‘I don’t have time, but thanks for offering.’

‘A trim, perhaps? It would be quick.’

‘I really can’t. There’s so much to do.’ So much money to make. ‘Maybe another time?’

‘All right, then.’ Adela offered a soft smile and turned towards the rows of buttons. ‘Were you going to get off here?’

‘I… was. But I think I’ll just head outside for a bit instead.’ Maybe a walk around the outdoor activity area would help. Or maybe the gardens would be better. They did say that nature helped get rid of stress. She had to do inspections anyway. It was quicker to skip getting her meds. Maybe she wouldn’t need them. Who was she kidding?

Adela pushed the button for the ground floor.

There was that uncomfortable shifting sensation in Chief’s stomach again as the elevator descended. She disliked it. It was like her body was jerked in one direction and her insides were left in place for a second, unable to keep up with the speed.

‘The money will come, Chief,’ Adela said.

‘How did you know about…’

‘Faye’s been speaking to a lot of people.’

‘Of course.’ It was late afternoon already. Faye’s had plenty of time to spread the news.

‘She asked if I would be the judge for a hair cutting event,’ Adela said.

‘I see.’ Faye’s really quite creative, huh. ‘Did you accept?’

‘The idea was promptly scrapped when I mentioned that such an event likely wouldn’t bring in much money. There was the issue of having an enticing prize as well.’

‘Ah… makes sense. One million’s going to be hard to make.’

‘One million?’

‘Yeah, Faye said we’d need 949,999 DisCoins. So I said we might as well make that one mil.’

‘You seem to trust Faye a lot.’

‘Faye’s a little weird sometimes, but she does get things done,’ Chief said. ‘And, I guess if you think about it, she’s working hard even if she’s stressing me out.’

‘I’m not so sure if I could have that much trust in Faye myself.’

‘Really, why?’

‘It’s hard to say exactly why, other than she doesn’t inspire it. For me, at least.’

‘I see. She is a little nutty.’

‘However, I trust you, Chief. More than Faye. More than anyone.’

Chief raised a brow. ‘Why’s that?’

‘Because you’re Chief.’

Chief smiled. ‘Thanks.’ A warmth had bloomed in her chest from the compliment. Trust was a strange thing now that she thought about it. You couldn’t buy it or command it. It was given, and… Faye… Why did she trust Faye so much? Everything Chief had said was true. Faye was weird. Faye did get things done. Faye was working hard. And Faye was stressing Chief out. I don’t think it’s just her ideas that are making me worry. Maybe Chief’s trust was crumbling a little. She needed to speak to Bianca.

The elevator doors opened, and they stepped outside.

‘May I ask where you’re headed, Chief?’

‘The activity area and gardens. Just doing a round of inspections.’

‘I see, and if it’s not a bother, may I accompany you for a while?’

‘Sure.’ It was Adela’s free time right now, and she wanted to spend it with Chief. Who was Chief to say no to company from a lovely person like Adela? Her presence had a quality that relaxed Chief. Strange as it was, even the mad shears incident had its relaxing moments. ‘Let’s go together.’

The lobby was quiet. Their footsteps echoed in the wide space till they crossed through the glass doors of the main entrance. Their first destination would be the gardens since it was closer than the activity area.

Walking, it only took about two minutes to arrive at the cobbled roads. The plants in the flowerbeds were blooming with bright colours. Gekkabijin had mentioned that the flowers were edible, but Chief knew that wasn’t true since the girl’s lips had been twitching at the corners like she wanted to laugh. And she did laugh for a moment before she covered it up with a fake cough. That silly girl probably thought she’d successfully tricked Chief into believing her. Did she expect Chief to just pluck up a flower and start munching on it?

‘These plants are thriving,’ Adela said, taking an appreciative look around.

‘Yeah,’ Chief said. ‘Members of the Garden really do garden well.’

‘Would you like a hug, Chief?’

‘What?’ The offer came out of nowhere. So random.

‘You look like you need one.’

‘Oh.’ Chief chuckled. ‘Have I been looking miserable or something?’

Adela held her arms open, inviting.

Chief blinked, found herself stepping into Adela who wrapped her arms around Chief. And the tension lifted from her body as she melted into Adela’s embrace. The smell of hair products was as welcomed as the feeling of being wrapped up by this Sinner, like a warm blanket. Hugs really are magical. ‘Thanks, Adela.’

‘You’re welcome, Chief.’ Still holding her, Adela stroked the back of Chief’s head. They stayed like that for what felt like an entire minute before leaning back. But Adela’s gloved hands rested on Chief’s hips, keeping them close. Their chests were almost touching. ‘I can offer more than haircuts. Hugs and tea can be quite nice, too.’

Feeling better, Chief smiled. ‘Hugs are the best.’

‘They are great, aren’t they?’

‘Right? Did you know what Faye said to me? She said we could sell them.’ Chief shook her head. ‘It’s so messed up to even think of selling hugs.’

‘That would have made quite a bit of money.’

‘Would have also taken my humanity away. Putting a price on hugs is just demonic.’

Adela hummed. ‘Then how about making them free?’

‘Free hugs?’

‘Yes.’

‘Faye won’t like that. Freebies are bad biz according to her.’

‘The power of so-called freebies can do quite a lot for a business. I sometimes give people free haircuts, and they often come back.’

‘Well, samples are a thing. But don’t you lose out on people who don’t come back when your freebie is more than just a bite of food?’

Adela shook her head. ‘Not when I enjoy giving. And the ones who do convert to becoming regular customers earn me more than enough.’

‘Maybe we could do a free hugs day at the MBCC.’

‘Or you could offer hugs for free, and let the customers decide how much to donate to the cause of saving the MBCC and their beloved chief.’

‘Donations…’

‘You could move away from selling things to customers, and have it be a fundraiser instead.  It’s not guaranteed to make a lot of money, but you don’t need a lot to be happy. And I think you and everyone here could do with a little bit more joy.’

‘That doesn’t sound too bad.’ Fundraising where the amount one donates could be decided by the individual was not the same as putting a price tag on hugs. It wasn’t sacrilegious.

‘Even if you don’t make much, every little would help, wouldn’t it?’

‘Yeah, sure would.’ Chief could treat it as a morale-boosting event. Happy Sinners equal better behaviour, which meant less time needed to manage them, which then meant Chief could put more of her efforts towards what’s important—making money.

‘If you don’t expect to gain anything,’ Adela said, ‘when you do receive something, it’s much sweeter. A little like this hug of ours, I suppose.’ She smiled, fingers of one hand tapping on Chief’s hip.

Chief’s face warmed. They were standing so close to each other, for so long, and she’d only just noticed how intimate this position was. She’d only ever seen lovers stand this close and stare into each other’s eyes and lean in and their lips would get closer and—

Adela leaned in.

Chief’s heart stuttered.

Their faces were centimetres apart.

Adela shifted her head to the side of Chief’s. It was the same position as before. Another hug.

God, what’s wrong with me? This isn’t the kissing booth anymore, and this is Adela! The yelling in Chief’s mind ceased when Adela gave her a squeeze. Chief sighed. Hugs really are…

‘Oh my,’ came a familiar voice from behind.

Chief stepped away from Adela and turned to find Garofano standing there, one hand elegantly raised, fingers hovering just in front of her mouth.

‘I was just heading to the gardens,’ Garofano said, eyes curving in amusement. ‘What an indecent scene for me to happen upon.’

Chief blinked. ‘This isn’t what you think it is.’

‘It’s quite all right, Chief,’ Garofano said. ‘Many people often assume that with how quiet and secluded this place is, they can get away with a secret rendezvous like yours.’

‘Wha—this really isn’t—’

‘But the gardens aren’t a good place if privacy is what you’re seeking.’

‘Garofano, seriously. This is a misunderstanding. Adela was just giving me a hug because I was…’ How do you explain yourself needing a hug from a Sinner as the chief of the MBCC? How do you clear up a misunderstanding like this? ‘Because I needed one.’ That didn’t sound right. Chief looked to Adela for help.

Adela chuckled. ‘You certainly did, Chief.’ She slid her hand into Chief’s to offer support, or maybe it was to tease.

‘My,’ Garofano said with a small gasp.

‘It’s not what you think it is,’ Chief stated again, holding tight onto Adela’s comforting hand.

Stressed, calm, and now flustered. What a rollercoaster. The MBCC experience.

Chapter Text

It was a sunny day with a light breeze. Many Sinners milled about in the MBCC gardens, waiting for today’s event to start. Chief stood in front of a flower display with a table of refreshments a few metres away to the side. No alcohol this time, only water and lemonade.

Coquelic managed almost everything in the gardens and the greenhouses. She’d passed by one day, told Chief how disgusted she was at the state of things, and forced Chief to cede control of the place to her. Chief had been nervous about letting the mentor of the Garden do whatever she wanted with the gardens. Something about letting the S-class Sinner essentially have her own domain had caused Chief to be anxious. But seeing the place be revitalised and surrounded by thriving plants let her know that she didn’t make the wrong decision.

The flower display behind Chief also acted as a large sign. Big yellow flowers spelled ‘HUGS!’ while surrounded by a mass of green with purples, reds, and pinks sprinkled in. Chief had heard that Thistle and Sumire worked particularly hard on making it. She’d have to thank them later.

‘It’s about time, Chief,’ Nightingale said, looking up from her tablet.

Chief twisted to both sides for a quick stretch. She was ready. ‘Time to start, then.’

‘Line up, line up!’ Faye yelled through a megaphone. Her loud, distorted voice disturbed the tranquil atmosphere. ‘We’re starting the huggeroo!’

Within seconds, a queue formed up.

‘The what?’ Chief asked.

Faye ignored her and continued yelling into her megaphone. ‘Remember to put your donations into the bucket on the stand, okay? Show your love with your wallet! Chief deserves your money!’

It was probably best to ignore Faye in return. Tune her out and the tension would fade. Chief turned to Nightingale. ‘Are you sure you can be here? You told me you had a meeting at ten.’

‘I can stay for a few more minutes,’ Nightingale said.

Ever since the kissing booth, Nightingale has been sticking with Chief as much as she could. Her protectiveness was cute, but it was also worrying. It felt like Chief was making more work for her adjutant.

‘When I leave, I’ll slip out without bothering you,’ Nightingale said. ‘I’ve assigned Demon to be your bodyguard, but I’ll return as soon as I can.’

‘You really don’t have to be rushing about for me. Demon’s more than capable, and we’re in an open space this time.’

Nightingale took one glance at the Sinners. ‘I’ll be back.’

‘Okay.’ Chief smiled, grateful. ‘Thanks.’

Nightingale nodded.

‘My little monster, it seems like I’ll be your first,’ someone said.

Chief didn’t need to see the woman’s face to know who it was. Only Stargazer would call her that. Chief spun around, and she swore she saw something like irritation from Nightingale. Did Stargazer say something wrong? She was first in line today. ‘Morning.’

‘Good morning,’ Stargazer said. She had her hood up, top open to show off her beautiful brown skin. ‘I’ve been waiting for this since I saw it in my crystal.’

‘I wonder if it’s possible for you to find out if we’ll raise enough money for the MBCC,’ Chief said.

Stargazer smiled knowingly. ‘I can divine many things, Chief. Would you like me to?’

Someone far back in the queue was yelling about how the line wasn’t moving.

‘I’d really like to know,’ Chief said, ‘especially about how we’re going to make the money. But unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be enough time. There never is.’ Chief stretched her arms out, ready for a hug.

Smiling, Stargazer pulled her hood down and embraced Chief. ‘I’d tell you the colour of your soul,’ she said, breath warm on Chief’s ear, ‘but since we’re short on time, I’ll let you know this instead.’

Curious, Chief turned her head slightly. Long, silky hair brushed her cheek. She was glad that the metal accessories on Stargazer’s hood didn’t jab at her. Was that why she’d taken her hood off? How thoughtful.

‘A spotlight,’ Stargazer whispered. ‘An audience.’ Her hand ran up Chief’s back, the other tightened on Chief’s waist, causing a shiver. ‘A changing price that leads to many destinations.’

‘I don’t understand…’ Chief said as Stargazer leaned back. ‘I feel like all you do is tell me riddles.’

‘What is the future if not a tapestry of riddles?’

Chief frowned.

Stargazer gave her a squeeze on the shoulders. ‘You’ll understand when it’s time, my little monster. Just like how I understand it’s time for me to head towards the bucket before the impatience of those behind me overflow.’ She smiled and glided off to give her donations.

Spotlight, audience, price, destinations? Am I going to be put in a performance or something? Oh, maybe something like a theatre? Is Lady Pearl going to help us?

‘REMEMBER!’ Faye and her megaphone were at it again. Or maybe she’d never stopped. Chief wasn’t sure. She’d had a good while of tuning it out, but now her brain brought her attention back to the grating noise. ‘HOW MUCH DO YOU LOVE CHIEF? DON’T BE BEATEN! DISCOINS EQUALS SINCERITY!’

Yeah. Better to tune it out again. Counting on you, brain. Chief couldn’t see Nightingale anywhere but caught a glimpse of Demon, arms folded, standing guard nearby.

The first hour went smoothly, but it had its ups and downs. The hugs were rejuvenating with certain individuals like Kelvin and Lynn, but draining with those like Victoria and Roulecca. Priscilla and Tetra had both received a hug but had kept their attention on each other throughout. How weird.

‘This seems to be going well, Chief,’ Adela said, stepping up to the front of the queue. ‘And I must say, you look beautiful with this display behind you.’

‘This is all thanks to you, Adela.’

‘Me?’

‘You gave me the idea. I was against selling hugs, but fundraising is different. And I think everyone’s enjoying the fresh air and the lovely flowers.’

‘The flowers are certainly a sight.’ Adela looked directly at Chief when she said that. Maybe she’d had a good tour of the place already and had her fill.

‘Aren’t they?’ Chief scanned the flowerbeds. ‘I’m beginning to understand why people like nature so much.’

‘I’m glad that your spirits have lifted a little.’

Chief smiled, opened her arms to invite Adela in for a hug. They pressed their bodies together, and Chief sighed. ‘You give really good hugs.’

‘I’m glad. I didn’t know.’

‘Something about the way you wrap your arms around me, and you squeeze just right.’ It’s like you know the exact amount of pressure that I need every single time. Just as Chief thought this, Adela tightened her hold, and Chief melted into her. She must be a master of hugging.

They stayed in this position for so long that jealous complaints were thrown their way.

Adela extricated herself, and Chief missed the contact. How nice would it be to just hug Adela all day? Let her take away all the tension. A soothing voice and a warm cuddle. It sounded like heaven.

‘CHIEF’S LOVE IS UNLIMITED!’ Faye was giving it her all. ‘AND SO IS YOUR BANK ACCOUNT! OVERDRAFTS EXIST!’

Ah, yes. The mandatory reminder that this was reality and possibly hell.

Chapter Text

The medical department was struggling with bed space. Nearly all the beds were occupied by ducks and Sinners who ate contaminated food. It wasn’t a simple case of food poisoning either. The food had been placed next to mania crystals ever since the kitchens had gotten damaged.

I should have seen this coming. Chief should have ordered Faye to move the food to a different location. Just keeping them away from the explosives hadn’t been enough, neither was keeping them ‘contained’ as Faye had said. I need to trust my gut more than Faye.

‘I’ll see you later, then,’ Bianca said, rising from her seat in front of Chief’s desk. They’d been in the office to discuss Bianca’s performance reviews.

‘Hold on,’ Chief said.

‘Huh? What is it? I’ve been on my best behaviour. You even praised me earlier.’

‘You’re not in trouble. I have something else I want to speak to you about, so take a seat again.’

‘Oh, okay.’ Bianca plopped down and adjusted her white coat to get comfy.

‘You must’ve heard about the contaminated food.’

‘Oh, yeah. It’s wild. I’m so glad I was doing my apple-juice-only thing and got my drinks from the vending machines.’

‘I thought you’d agreed to eat a balanced diet.’

‘It is balanced, Chief! And it saved me this time, didn’t it? Shouldn’t you be glad that I’m healthy?’

‘I’m glad you’re fine, but I’m not sure you’re “healthy” with such eating—or, well, drinking habits, Bianca.’

Giving Chief a pout, Bianca shrugged. ‘Apple juice is life.’

Chief couldn’t do anything about this right now. She’d let the medical department know, and they could help Bianca understand why bad diets are bad. ‘I want to ask you to look into something for me.’

Bianca leaned forward, eyes wide, excited. ‘You want me to investigate? What do you want me to investigate? Is there some dangerous plot that’s gonna destroy DisCity that you need me to uncover?’

‘Not… quite.’ I hope. ‘Problems seem to keep emerging, and the trouble’s all pointing to the supply office.’

‘Do they have dealings with the black market? Wait, they already do that. Oh, I know. They’re secretly working with the MBCC’s enemies, aren’t they? There’s someone undercover. A spy. A traitor in our midst!’

‘No, well…’ Actually, why does that sound plausible? Shit, I wasn’t too worried before, but now…

‘It’s okay, Chief. Your favourite reporter buddy will do some delving.’ Bianca’s eyes sparkled. ‘This will be such a big scoop. I promise that justice will be served.’

‘I don’t know if you can find much with how tight the supply office’s security is, but I’d like to see any records of transactions and anything you find suspicious.’ Faye’s been protective of the data. It was strange. Or maybe Chief was overthinking it. Faye could have been wanting to keep Chief from being bothered by the goings-on of the supply office. Maybe Faye was just looking out for her.

Bianca nodded. ‘Leave it to me.’

‘Be careful. Try not to let anybody know about this.’

‘Of course. Don’t worry your cute little butt. I’m a professional. I mean, I even found out that you have a special fan club. So there’s nothing I can’t uncover.’

‘Wait, what?’

‘I’ve been telling you that your butt is cute and amazing for ages. You should be proud.’

‘Not that. You mentioned a fan club?’ Tell me I misheard.

‘Yeah,’ Bianca said. ‘I’m not sure exactly who’s the leader of it. It might be some joint ownership thing. Anyway, Deren’s definitely a high-ranking member with some authority since she’s been selling special Chief photos to the members.’

Chief glanced at the archives to the right of the room, then at the record player to the left, then at Bianca. ‘They’re selling photos of me?’

‘Yeah, they’ve got tons of candid shots.’ Bianca rummaged in one of her coat pockets. ‘Like this.’ She pulled out a photo showing Chief stretching with her arms to the sky. It was a zoomed in shot, but Chief could recognise the background being the rooftop. Someone must have secretly taken this when she went up for some fresh air.

I’m being stalked without knowing. What am I, a celebrity? This is nuts. I need to grill Deren.

‘This is a limited-edition print, y’know,’ Bianca said. ‘It’s collectible number 3783. There’s only ten of these. It was so hard to get one. Even adjutant Nightingale’s been trying to get me to sell it to her.’

Chief didn’t know whether she should comment on the fact that there were limited edition prints of her or that they’re part of some collection that’s 3783 pieces big and most likely growing. It seems that Nightingale’s trying to gather them up, though. Ever the thoughtful adjutant, she’d kept the knowledge of the existence of this fan club away from Chief as it was dealt with. But Nightingale didn’t have to be so nice, trying to buy them from the Sinners instead of confiscating them.

‘Isn’t the quality of this print pretty awesome? It’s good cardstock an—what?’

Chief held her hand out, palm up.

Bianca tilted her head in confusion.

‘Hand it over,’ Chief said.

‘What? No.’ Bianca brought the photo to her chest like a precious treasure. ‘This is limited edition! It was so hard to get this. If you want one, you’ll have to put in an order and fight the queues like everyone else does. There’s going to be another special print soon, so you can try getting one of those, but this one’s mine.’

Chief motioned ‘give me’ with the fingers of her outstretched hand. ‘I’m confiscating it. Photos without the subject’s consent shouldn’t be sold.’

Bianca twisted her body away. ‘But this one’s mine! It’s my favourite. You can’t just take it away from me.’ Her eyes watered with unshed tears and her voice took on a warbly tone. ‘I’m going to investigate some really important thing for you, and you’re gonna take something important away from me? Does that make sense to you? You monster.’ Bianca’s lips were trembling now.

The girl certainly had some acting skills. Over the top and dramatic, but entertaining nonetheless. Or, it would be entertaining if the issue wasn’t whatever the hell this situation was. Bianca looked like she really wanted to keep that picture, though. And it was true that she was going to help Chief out by looking into the supply office. Chief sighed and withdrew her hand.

Bianca waited. Eyes blinking like an innocent puppy.

‘I’m counting on you, Bianca. Seek justice for me.’ If there’s justice to be sought, that is. What are the chances something sinister’s going on behind my back at the MBCC?

‘You got it, Chief!’ Bianca saluted.

Chapter Text

Chief’s bedroom at the MBCC had the same colour palette as the rest of the building—greys and blacks. Some people would think it was cool, others would think it was depressing, but Chief didn’t think much of it at all. There were always more important things to occupy her mind with. Things like work. The rising violence. Work. The state of DisCity. Work. The condition of the Sinners. And, well, work. Most things were related to work.

Having just showered, Chief wore a towel around her neck. She was already in her pyjamas. A button-up and pants set with a pattern of ducks printed on them. She’d get five hours of sleep, six if she was lucky, and then be back in her office again. Towelling her hair dry with one hand, she turned her tablet on with the other. Sure, it wasn’t healthy to work all the time, but she had no choice.

She tapped on the screen, opened her inbox, and scanned the messages. A report showed no new leads on where the local gangs were receiving weapons from. The unknown supplier had been too elusive to track down, but based on the amount of gear that’s been seized, their shipments have been increasing. Christina had taken it upon herself to scrutinise every single clue no matter how small, and Chief was thankful for her comrades’ help. Everyone was working hard.

Sandwiched between a report from the surveillance team and Nightingale’s reminder, for an update to tomorrow’s schedule, was a message from Faye.

Chief scanned through the main body of the text. 20,000 DisCoins made from the hugging event. That’s quite a lot just for hugs. It wasn’t a bad amount of money at all. In fact, it was fantastic. 20,000 for hugs? In one day? It was… not enough, not when their target was one million, and a month has now passed. Chief had spent the time being busy on missions in various parts of DisCity. Could the criminals just chill out for a bit? Go on vacation till after the MBCC sorts itself out?... There were five months left till the new year. If the MBCC made 20k every month till the deadline, they still wouldn’t have a million.

I either need to create more time to spend on money-making missions, or I have to make more money from everything I do. Chief was smart and could form plans to suit any situation, but this? This, she couldn’t figure out.

At the end of the message, Faye wrote that she was going to look into getting more investors. ‘More’? Chief’s eyes narrowed as she reread the sentence. The wording… She scrolled further down. Faye’s got the next event in the works already. The corners of Chief’s lips tugged upwards at the thought of the MBCC having a way of finding workaholics, or maybe this place turned people into them.

She froze from reading the last paragraph, remembering what Stargazer had told her a couple of days ago: A spotlight. An audience. A changing price that leads to many destinations.

So this was what she meant. Chief let her body fall backwards onto the firm mattress. She stared at the ceiling for a moment, then closed her eyes. They only had five months left. Maybe this was a good idea.

An auction might work.

Chapter Text

‘So, you’re here to file a complaint?’ Chief asked. As soon as her butt had hit the seat of her office chair, Rise had stalked into the room. She had an appointment booked, and Chief had almost been late having struggled to sleep all night. Thankfully, Nightingale was on top of things, attending a meeting in Chief’s stead right now.

‘Yes,’ Rise said, standing in front of the desk. She’d refused to take a seat.

‘All right. Tell me what’s wrong.’ Chief wondered if she needed to make a record of this or if it was simply something small that could be sorted without. The last time she’d had complaints they were from Peggy and Joan. Peggy couldn’t stand Joan’s blaring rock music, and Joan couldn’t stand Peggy’s explosive rapping. Soundproofing had been the solution.

‘The MBCC,’ Rise said.

‘What?’

‘The MBCC is what’s wrong.’

‘Are you unhappy with your room? Or maybe the meals?’

‘I’m unhappy with the crazy shit that’s been happening here,’ Rise said.

‘What “crazy shit” are you referring to?’

‘You know what I’m talking about.’

‘Um…’ Chief could think of so much that could fit in the ‘crazy shit’ category, so she had no idea what Rise was referring to specifically.

‘All the weird events you’ve been taking part of. Are those not crazy to you?’

Maybe I’ve been desensitised to all the chaos, Chief thought.

‘It’s unprofessional,’ Rise said, adjusting her glasses and folding her arms. ‘And there’s a lack of work-life balance. It needs to be rectified.’

She’s right about that.

‘You promised me a healthy working environment without workplace bullying, Chief.’

Chief sat up straight, alert. ‘Someone’s being bullied? Who is it?’

‘You really don’t know?’ Rise’s stare was cold. ‘Are you being serious right now?’

‘I… I’m sorry. This is failure on my part as the acting chief of—’

Rise slammed her palms onto the desk and leaned forward.

Chief gulped at the Sinner’s severe expression.

‘You,’ Rise said.

‘Yes?’ This was probably where Rise would start to curse Chief out. She was unhappy, and she had a right to be. Bullying was serious. It was more than bad. And to have it happen at the MBCC without Chief knowing was even worse.

‘You’re the one being bullied,’ Rise said.

Chief blinked. ‘I’m being bullied?’

Rise huffed, leaned back, and ran a hand through her long, grey-blue hair. ‘Idiots are everywhere,’ she muttered. ‘That stupid duck and now you.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Bagel.’

‘Who?’

‘Never mind.’ Rise shook her head.

‘Um… Rise?’

‘What?’

‘Are you bullying me now? You called me stupid, and you’re a little… um…’

Rise shot her a glare so cutting that Chief regretted her words. ‘I would have thought that the Chief of the MBCC would take matters like this seriously. But here you are, trying to joke around and make light of it.’

‘That’s not—I’m just confused. So, nobody’s being bullied, then?’

‘I just told you that you’re being bullied.’

Relief flooded Chief. Thank God that nobody was being bullied at the MBCC.

‘Even one person being bullied is wrong,’ Rise said.

Chief chuckled. ‘I’m not being bullied. I don’t know where you’ve heard such rumours.’

‘I didn’t hear rumours. I witnessed you being bullied over the course of—’

‘Nobody’s bullying me, Rise. Seriously. Sometimes the Sinner’s might use some crass language, but we’re all on friendly terms.’

‘You don’t even see that you’re being used, do you? They mess with you because you’re like this. They overstep because you let them. Draw some goddamn boundaries, will you? Your role also requires this, and you don’t even care. You let them walk all over you, dress you like a clown, and force you to dance to their tune.’

Chief wasn’t sure where this misunderstanding had stemmed from. Nobody was giving her a hard time—okay, that wasn’t true. But nobody was giving her a hard time by bullying her.

‘Do you even know what bullying is?’ Rise asked.

‘It’s usually when someone coerces, uses force or threats to abuse or intimidate another. And it’s often a repeated and habitual type of behaviour.’

‘You’re being forced to do many things you don’t want to do.’ Rise said.

‘Yeah, it’s part of the job.’

‘Don’t you think it’s a habit of theirs?’

‘Well… at least there’s no use of force or threats yet, so—’

‘Yet? You’re expecting it?’

‘N-no.’ This was getting awkward. Chief’s relationships with the Sinners and the MBCC staff were fine. Great, even. Maybe they pushed her into doing things she didn’t want to every single week. And they messed with her a lot. And…

‘Wake up,’ Rise said, voice flat.

Chief gulped. ‘It’s just heavy teasing, Rise. They don’t upset me.’ Okay, they do. But in a different way. More like an exasperated and disappointed kind of way.

‘Well, it bothers me.’

‘Why?’

‘Because…’ Rise looked away.

‘You’re jealous?’

‘What?’ Rise’s face reddened.

‘I don’t know. This just seems like a scenario in some manga that EMP told me about.’

‘I—’ Rise cleared her throat. ‘No. I’m not jealous. Get that stupid idea out of your head.’ She adjusted her tie, even though it looked perfectly positioned already.

‘Let me reassure you that no nonconsensual bullying is happening here at the MBCC.’

‘Non—what?’

‘Some of the staff are fans of Macchiato so…’

‘Macchiato.’

‘Yeah,’ Chief replied. ‘Client manager at Eastside bank. Great at her job. She reminds me a little of you, actually.’

‘Macchiato’s the one with the whip.’

‘Mhm, heard it’s de-stressing for some people.’

‘Are you one of those people?’

‘What? No. But I don’t kink shame. And I kind of get it.’

‘You… get it… I see.’

It was good that this misunderstanding was cleared up now. It wouldn’t do for Rise to think that Chief was stuck being the victim in this building with no way of escape. Bullying wasn’t permitted here. Chief made sure it didn’t exist at the MBCC, and if she found out it did, she’d quash it. It didn’t matter if you disliked someone or if you couldn’t get along with them. It was wrong to cause harm intentionally.

‘I didn’t think that you’d be into that sort of thing,’ Rise said. ‘I should have known. It’s been rather obvious now that I consider it properly.’

Chief felt her brows draw together. ‘What’s obvious?’

‘That you’re a masochist.’

Silence.

‘What?’ Chief asked. How did Rise arrive at that conclusion?

Rise sighed and muttered to herself. ‘I’m not… Well, I guess it has its appeal, but I’m not sure if I… hm…’ She glanced at Chief, blushed, then shook her head as if to clear her thoughts.

‘So, uh, Rise,’ Chief said. ‘I’m not really sure how our conversation ended up here, but I think we’ve been sliding down a chain of misunderstandings.’

‘It’s fine, Chief.’

‘It… is?’

Rise nodded. ‘I understand now.’

‘You do?’ If Chief was honest, she was actually quite confused herself.

‘Yes, you’re masochistic and you enjoy the happenings at the MBCC. You clearly like how you’re being treated, so please forget about my complaint. I didn’t know you derived pleasure from such behaviour. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must get back to work.’ Rise turned on her heel and strode out of the office.

It took a minute for Chief to process Rise’s words. Then a wave of mortification crashed into her with the impact of Demolia’s giant hammer. Chief shot to her feet, bashed her hip on the corner of her desk, cursed at the pain, and dashed after Rise. Rise wasn’t one to gossip, but it was easy for information—or in this case misinformation—to spread. Chief had to clear this up before everyone in the MBCC—no, the entirety of DisCity, including her enemies, thought she was a big masochist.

Chapter Text

The only source of illumination was the spotlight shining on Chief as she stood on the stage. One of the storage rooms in the depot had been converted to host an auction. Faye and the ducks did a great job. If you kept your eyes in the direction of Chief, you’d not notice the metal shelves full of crates that stretched up to the ceiling directly opposite. The audience sat with their backs to the supplies. It was such a well-crafted set that even Lady Pearl and Echo had praised it, saying that it would be a waste not to use it for a performance.

There was a stand to Chief’s left and one to her right. Sitting on the stands, enclosed in a protective acrylic box, were letters. A white envelope and a black one. One in each case. They’d been stamped and sealed with the MBCC logo on crimson wax.

Nightingale stood to the side, hidden by the curtains. She gave Chief a reassuring nod, and Chief sighed. It would be fine. Her adjutant was here.

‘The auction shall commence in two minutes!’ boomed Faye’s voice through the speakers. She stood at a podium. A microphone in one hand and a gavel in the other. Her eyes kept flicking to the clock on the wall.

Chief scanned the attendees seated in rows in front of her. They were all Sinners, and it seemed like there may have been a restriction on who could enter. Countess Chelsea, Lady Pearl, Cabernet, Eirene, Coquelic, Vautour Bleu, and other Sinners with that one commonality—fat bank accounts. Faye had mentioned it would be quite exclusive. So this was what she’d meant.

The Sinners gripped signs with printed numbers. Shalom was the exception. She sat with her hands in her lap. Rahu beside her, arms crossed, held the sign for Shalom. Rahu even had her half mask on. Why? This wasn’t a fight. She could take it off. Unless… she treated it as… Chief moved her eyes across the seats. Half the Sinners looked like they were ready for battle with their tense postures. Maybe it’s normal for me to feel nervous if so many others are.

‘The auction begins!’ Faye announced. She rattled off the catalogue for two packages. ‘First is the white envelope. A casual date for half a day with the beloved Chief of MBCC!’

As Faye spewed the sales pitch to sell Chief off, Chief glanced once more to the side. Nightingale was gone. Oh no. Did something happen?

Each time Faye asked for a higher price, the Sinners obliged by raising their signs.

What went wrong? Chief tuned out Faye’s voice. She’d gotten good at it. Where’s Nightingale?

Faye struck the gavel, beginning the same process for the second package. ‘The black envelope. One date night at a fancy restaurant, walking on the beach and star viewing included! This will be a much longer date than the first, and nothing’s stopping you from winning both except the number of digits in your bank account! A reminder that we accept other forms of payment, too. Property, stocks, gems, and anything listed on the leaflets we gave you earlier are A-okay!’

The usual spiel of a sales pitch came, and Chief still couldn’t find Nightingale anywhere. Should I get off stage? Faye could manage this without her. Chief was only here to make things look more official. And also because, according to Faye, it would help them make more money. ‘Seeing you makes people impulsive,’ Faye had said. Chief supposed some people reacted that way when it came to authority. The sheriff had complained to her about it during the whole fiasco they had with Coquelic and her Garden.

A flicker to the left in Chief’s peripheral vision. What was that? Strange colours. Again. To the right. Squares and rectangles. Almost like a glitch.

Faye’s voice flowed with the rhythm of an auctioneer. The bids continued.

There was a buzz in Chief’s pocket. She fished her phone out and saw a message from Nightingale. Something about the MBCC’s digital systems.

Chief rushed down the stairs of the stage, made a motion to her phone when she caught Faye’s attention. Faye offered a quick announcement, telling the attendees that Chief had to step out for MBCC duties but that the auction would continue. And it did. The bids started back up, one after the other, seeming to never end. They were at 70,000 DisCoins when Chief exited the room.

A quick tap on her phone and a few seconds later, she had Nightingale on the line. Chief was already hurrying down the corridor. She’d be at the elevator in moments. ‘Please update me.’

‘Chief, the digital systems are stuttering,’ Nightingale said. ‘It’s unclear whether this is a cyber-attack at the moment. The team are saying there’s a low probability, and that it’s more likely just a laggy system after their recent update.’

‘I see. Please contact Nirvana just in case.’

‘Already done. Moore is on her way.’

When was the MBCC going to give Nightingale a pay rise? She deserved one. If they didn’t give her one soon, Chief would raise the issue. Nightingale might not be bothered about getting a higher salary, but it was something that was important to Chief. Her adjutant worked hard and was good at her job. The MBCC should show some appreciation at the very least, but it felt like they almost never did. ‘Thank you, Nightingale.’

‘Of course, Chief.’ There was a pause. ‘May I ask about the event?’

‘The auction?’ Chief was waiting for the elevator to reach her floor.

‘Yes. Who won the…’

‘Oh, um, I don’t actually know.’ Another pause, and Chief could hear Nightingale’s confusion through the silence. ‘I saw that you were missing and went into Chief mode as Hella would say. So I didn’t catch who won the white envelope.’

‘What about the other one?’

‘I rushed out in the middle of it.’ The elevator doors opened, and Chief stepped in. ‘They were at 70,000 DisCoins by then.’

‘So they’re still bidding.’

‘I’m sure they’ve finished by now.’ 70k was a crazy amount already. It was probably just pocket change for the Sinners who gathered in that room, but surely even they wouldn’t overprice the date package even more than they already had.

‘No, they won’t have stopped yet,’ Nightingale said, confidently.

‘What, you think they’re going to bid all the way up to one million?’

Silence.

‘Yeah, that’s not going to happen.’ Chief let out a nervous chuckle.

Chapter Text

Chelsea caught Chief in the MBCC parking lot. ‘Welcome back, Chief.’

‘Chelsea,’ Chief greeted, closing the car door and dismissing the driver. ‘Why are you here?’

‘To speak to you. Why else?’

‘Did you bribe the guards again? To let you wander about?’ All Sinners were dangerous, but most of them had at least some freedom within the MBCC. The parking lot, however, was usually off limits. There was no reason for the Sinners to be here. Plus, there’d been cases of attempted car theft. Horo had received a warning that marred her records for such a thing.

‘Oh, c’mon, Chief. I don’t need to bribe anyone.’

‘Really.’ Chief tucked her hands into her pockets.

‘You know they love me. And it’s not a bribe if I’m giving willingly, right? I don’t even expect anything back. Anyway, I’ve got something important to discuss.’

‘Let’s head to my office, then.’

Chelsea stepped in front of Chief to block her path. ‘Let’s talk here.’

Chief raised a brow. Was this something that others shouldn’t hear about? Not even Nightingale? Or did Chelsea suspect enemy surveillance? A spy in their midst, maybe? That would explain why she wanted to speak in the parking lot. It was less likely to be bugged if most individuals were kept away from here. But no matter how discreet this place felt, they were out in the open. It wasn’t good. Chief nodded to the fire exit and they both moved towards it. There would be a little bit of cover by the wall and pillar.

‘How was your day?’ Chelsea asked.

‘It was fine.’ Chelsea probably didn’t want Chief to ask about her day. Or maybe she did? Was she testing something? Chief scanned the parking area, didn’t find anything suspicious. There was nobody here but her and Chelsea. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘You know that auction yesterday?’

‘What about it?’

Chelsea put a hand on her hip and tossed her long, pink hair back so that it wasn’t sitting over her right shoulder anymore. ‘There’s a problem.’

‘Did you notice, too?’

‘Of course,’ Chelsea scoffed. ‘I was there.’

‘The flash of colours were familiar, but I can’t place it.’

‘The what?’

‘The colours. You said you noticed.’

‘I don’t know what you mean, Chief.’

‘You didn’t see that strange flicker?’

Chelsea frowned. ‘No.’

‘What were you talking about, then?’

‘The results of the auction. There’s an issue. And the issue is that I didn’t win, even though I kept bidding like crazy.’ She huffed. ‘And now I have to live knowing that you’re going to go on a date—two dates without me.’ Chelsea looked genuinely troubled. ‘How awful. Even dear Sitri’s upset.’

‘I… see. Well, I can’t do anything about it. So—’

‘Chief, you’re Chief. Of course you can do something about it.’

‘And… what is it that you’d like me to do? I know you’re unhappy, but I can’t go persuade the winners to sell their tickets to you, Chelsea.’ Chief offered a smile. ‘Maybe you’ll have a better chance next time? You could speak to Roulecca about it if it’s luck.’ Though Chief said this, she dearly hoped that there would be no next time. No more auctions. At least not ones where she was involved being up for bids.

‘I never said you had to speak to the winner for me,’ Chelsea said. ‘I’ve already done that myself for one of the date packages. I had someone contact her, but she ignored me. Don’t know who the other person who stole the second date from me is, though. Never heard or seen them.’

Right. Chelsea would have already tried to do such a thing. She had tons of money after all. All Chief could offer now were encouraging words and a pat on the shoulder. ‘Sorry, Chelsea. I know it’s difficult for you to not get what you want, but you’ll just have to get over it. Life is—’

Chelsea pressed her hand to the wall behind Chief and leaned in. Her jewellery shifted, making the lightest tinkling sounds, on her white clothes.

‘Um, Chelsea?’ Is she trying to intimidate me? This is like that drama where a bully—

‘Chief, don’t you think…’ Chelsea leaned closer.

Maybe not a bully. Why is this reminding me of one of those scenes Labyrinth asked me about when she was looking into romance? Chief’s heartrate sped up at the thought.

‘Don’t you think you could offer me something, too?’ Chelsea said. ‘I know you’re short on cash. I’ll pay you.’

Pay me? Pay me for what? Is she trying to buy me? Their location, the atmosphere, and their topic of conversation was too close to certain shady businesses of the sexual kind for Chief. She gulped, heat rising to her cheeks. ‘I… really don’t… uh… think this is a good idea.’

‘But why?’ Chelsea tilted her head and stared. Her eyes were beautiful, like gems, and the same reddish-pink of that one annoying moon. ‘You would have solved all your financial problems if you’d just take my money.’

‘But that’s… not right.’

Chelsea sighed, falling forward, and Chief panicked. No matter how pushy Chelsea had been in the past with wanting Chief to become her sugar baby, the Countess never forced herself onto Chief. So what was—

Chelsea had angled her head to the side as she surged forward. Her forehead rested on Chief’s shoulder. ‘Why won’t you let me give you money? I just want you to spend some time with me.’

Chief blinked, body frozen. Her chest was ready to burst open with how fast her heart was beating. She shouldn’t have expected the worst. Chelsea had never given her enough to be scared like this, so it must be all the tension and stress from work. There were four months left till New Year’s now, and Chief found herself checking the financial reports and struggling to sleep more and more.

‘Do you hate me?’ Chelsea asked, voice quiet.

‘No, of course not.’ Chief moved one of her hands to Chelsea’s back, patting her awkwardly. ‘Why would you think that?’

‘Why wouldn’t I think that? You spend so much time with everyone else but me.’

‘But I don’t?’

‘You’re always hanging out with that adjutant of yours, or you’re with that girl from the supply office. I’ve even seen you with the other Sinners. Taking photos with Bianca and Deren, having fun with Shawn and Eleven, chilling with Raven and the artist Sinners. Do I need to go on?’

‘That was for work, Chelsea.’

‘Then why did I hear that you agreed to getting tea with Du Ruo and Cassia? That you already had tea with Sumire?’

‘Ah…’

‘And yet you won’t spend any time with me. Chelsea grabbed at Chief’s coat. ‘I guess I’ll never be as dazzling as my gems.’

‘That’s not true,’ Chief said. ‘You’re plenty dazzling.’

‘Do you find me arrogant, too?’ Chelsea’s body seemed to deflate. She’d never hid being rich, and some people disliked that. There were staff in the MBCC who couldn’t stand Chelsea’s personality, but Chief didn’t mind. Chelsea was Chelsea.

‘I like you the way you are,’ Chief said, wrapping her arms around the Countess. ‘Since you want to spend time with me, how about we do something together the next time I’m free?’

‘I’m not falling for that,’ Chelsea said, voice muffled in Chief’s shoulder. ‘When are you ever free?’

Chief chuckled. ‘I’ll make time for you. How about it?’ It would be difficult to squeeze an hour into her busy schedule, but it was possible.

‘You promise?’ Chelsea wrapped her arms around Chief’s neck.

‘Yep.’

‘Okay, then. How much do you want?’

‘How much?’

‘Money.’

‘No money.’

‘You need money.’

‘No?’

‘Yes, you do.’

‘The MBCC does.’

‘I’ll donate it to the MBCC.’

‘You’re not allowed to. Or we’re not hanging out.’

Chelsea huffed and tightened her hold. ‘You’re so ridiculous. Who refuses money?’

‘Me, I guess.’ Chief didn’t want to owe anybody anything. This was for the best. Gotta walk the good path.

‘You’re so difficult to deal with.’ Chelsea pressed her face into Chief’s neck. ‘But I love you so much.’

‘Why, thank you,’ Chief said, chuckling. ‘I know I’m loveable.’

‘Sure are.’ Chelsea leaned back, caressed Chief’s cheek. ‘That’s why you’re collecting everyone like you’re making a harem.’

‘I—what?’ That was a terrible image to invade Chief’s mind. A harem. Her? God, no. That wasn’t appropriate. She was the chief of the MBCC not some shonen anime protagonist. ‘I’m not collecting people.’

‘Uh huh.’ Chelsea’s eyes flicked down to Chief’s lips.

‘Chelsea? I’m really not building a harem. You have to believe me. It’s n—’

Chelsea exhaled in amusement, looking away from Chief. It looked like it took great effort to shift her gaze. ‘I know, I know. The harem forms whether you like it or not.’

‘I—’

The Countess pressed their bodies back together in a tight embrace. ‘It’s okay. Just spend time with me. You promised.’

Chapter Text

Chief received Bianca’s report last night. The Sinner’s investigation showed that there was a possibility Faye was selling things under the table to a host of clients. What she was selling was a mystery, just like how the customers were also anonymous. Chief would need to dig some more to find out what was going on, but she sincerely hoped that Faye wasn’t the one supplying weapons to the local gangs. Violence was on the rise, and the MBCC couldn’t be on the wrong side of DisCity and its citizens.

To further uncover the truth, Chief would need access into the digital systems. I need data. As the chief of this organisation, I could just demand it. She could command Faye to hand it over, or she could get Nightingale to retrieve it. But that would surely sour Chief’s relationship with Faye. Nothing screamed ‘I don’t trust you’ louder than ‘I don’t care what you’ve told me. I need to see it for myself.’ If Chief was wrong about this, and Faye was innocent, they couldn’t go back to how they’d been before. I need to find out discreetly, but how?

Chief stepped out the back entrance of the MBCC. Under the darkness of night, she spotted the car waiting for her, opened the door, and slid inside the backseat. The leather squeaked as she shifted into a comfortable position.

‘Cutting it close, rookie,’ Langley said, seated on the other side. ‘Did you forget we had a meeting today?’ Her fedora cast a shadow over her face. The driver was missing. Probably left to give them some privacy as he sometimes did.

‘No,’ Chief said. ‘But even if I did forget, Nightingale would remind me.’

‘You’re heavily reliant on that adjutant of yours.’

‘She tells me that I don’t rely on her enough.’ Chief handed Langley a manila envelope. They spent the next fifteen minutes going over the abnormal rise in violence and suspicious activity of the local gangs. The anonymous weapons supplier was mentioned. No leads on Langley’s end either. How frustrating.

Chief wondered if she should mention Faye and the supply depot issues. Getting some input from the 9^th Agency would be good. But Langley’s methods could be a tad on the intense side of things. ‘Some truths can only be traded for with blood,’ she’d said before. Langley had her ways of sourcing the intelligence they needed, and Chief had no doubt this Sinner could easily uncover Faye’s secrets. But subjecting Faye to torture wasn’t something that Chief was willing to do.

With the conversation drawing to a close, Chief reached for the door handle only to pause when Langley spoke again.

‘I was away when the auction was conducted,’ Langley said.

Chief turned to her. ‘Were you going to attend?’

‘Would it surprise you?’

Chief had never expected Langley to be interested in silly things like auctions for dates. Dates with Chief nonetheless.

‘I’ll take your silence as yes,’ Langley said. ‘But I’m confident that there will be future opportunities with you as long as you stay alive. Until then, don’t get yourself killed, understood?’

Did Chief’s concern, regarding Faye, show on her face? Was that why Langley was trying to cheer her up? I’m getting really bad at hiding my emotions. ‘I’ll do my best, but you know how it is in this line of work. There’s plenty of people who are after my head.’

Langley positioned the envelope under Chief’s chin, lifting it. Her movement let Chief catch a waft of Langley’s perfume—or maybe cologne. It was something dark and rich.

Maybe I’m just smelling the leather of the car seats, Chief thought.

A slight backwards tilt of Langley’s head let her look down on Chief. She would have been intimidating if Chief hadn’t worked with her for so long. Who am I kidding, she’s still a little…

‘Stay alive.’

Chief smiled. ‘Roger that.’

And Langley’s lips, covered with a dark purple lipstick, curved upwards.

Chapter Text

The scene was an apocalyptic landscape. Battered cars, torn-down buildings, nothing alive in sight. Everything was bathed in red light. That wasn’t the worst of it. A scene like that wouldn’t faze Chief.

It was the monsters.

Formless nightmares, oozing a black gas. No, still not terrifying. Not until she saw them eating.

Eating the Sinners.

Eating her friends.

A dark mass larger than a bus was consuming Pepper, K.K., Kelvin, Crache, Che, and Dolly.

Chief sprinted towards them when a clone of the enemy appeared on the right. It was devouring Luvia Ray, Ignis, Pacassi, Mr. Fox, and NOX. Every direction she turned was more people getting sucked into the blackness. Hamel, Yanyan, Yao, Donald, L.L, Shrooma, Dudu, Etti, Corso… Everyone she’d ever known. Even the MBCC staff and those of the FAC and other organisations.

Agonising screams from behind. Chief whipped around and almost had a heart attack. A different monster was swallowing Hella, Hecate, and Nightingale.

And then a voice. Deep and rumbling. It came from nowhere yet everywhere, penetrated her mind, grasped at her soul. ‘PAY UP,’ it said.

Pay? Pay what?

‘PAY,’ it repeated.

‘What do I have to pay for?’ Chief yelled, scanning her surroundings, and darting towards Hella. Am I being punished? She’d fucked up somewhere in her life, and now she was suffering for it. What did she do to deserve this? It must have been something worth going to the deepest pits of hell for. No, this was it. Her family was being eaten. This was hell.

‘PAY.’

Chief had no idea what it was referring to. She reached Hella, grasped onto her leg, and yanked. The rest of the girl’s body had already disappeared into the black ooze. She may be suffocating already, but Chief tried to push that thought aside. If Hella couldn’t breathe, the others would be the same. The only solace Chief found in the screaming that continued was that it might mean they were still breathing. You needed breath to scream.

‘PAAAY.’

No matter how hard Chief struggled, Hella’s remaining leg kept disappearing deeper into the shadows. Desperate and sweating, Chief pulled with all her strength. She fell backwards. It didn’t hurt. She felt nothing in her body. But her mind went numb at the sight of Hella’s foot vanishing before her. Chief looked down at her hands still holding Hella’s shoe. If this is a dream, why aren’t I waking up? Usually you could wake up by looking into a mirror, checking a clock, or counting your fingers if you were lucid dreaming. Chief slapped herself. It stung.

Pain.

What the hell? Pain shouldn’t be possible, and it made no sense that it didn’t hurt when she fell. How inconsistent. She had no idea whether this was a dream any more. But it was definitely a nightmare.

‘PAAAY!!!’

Chief looked up. Hecate and Nightingale had disappeared, so had all the other bodies that were being eaten. ‘Give them back! I—’

‘Chief.’ It was a voice with a strange quality, almost echoing.

She’d had enough. Chief bit her lip. If she turned around now, what new demon would greet her? Or would it be another horrible sight where the people she cared about were being hurt?

‘Chief,’ came a different voice but similar.

Taking a deep breath, Chief got to her feet and turned around. Standing before her were a group of familiar masked Sinners. Each mask was shaped differently, but they all covered their eyes.

‘You can save everyone,’ Mantis said, antennae bobbing in the wind.

‘They’re gone,’ Chief said, voice trembling. ‘I don’t kno—help me. You have to help me.’

‘You just have to pay,’ Vanilla said.

‘Make an offering,’ Hestia advised.

Pylgia and Dreya nodded.

Chief stepped towards them. ‘What do you mean by p—’

‘COUGH UP THAT MONEY!!!’

Chief shot up in her bed with a start. She was drenched in cold sweat, and her heart was pounding painfully. Catching her breath, she turned to check the clock on her bedside table. It was 5 a.m. on the dot. Did I dream of the illusory moon? Or was that something else? Whatever it was, it hadn’t been pleasant. No use being hung up on it... Chief rubbed her face and decided to get ready for the big day ahead instead. She had a date today.

Chapter Text

Rahu picked Chief up by car in the morning. As soon as she’d sat down and buckled up, they were off again. Sharing the seats in the back with Chief was Shalom without her heavy, black coat. She was in casual attire today. A white dress with a red belt, sunglasses, beige hat and coat. Schorl—Shalom’s weapon, monitor, or whatever the hell it was in the shape of two black pyramids, one point up, the other down—floated near her but seemed… a little different, like it was less alert or partially sleeping.

‘Is that,’ Chief nodded to Schorl, ‘all right?’

Shalom wore her usual soft smile. ‘Perfectly fine.’

‘Are you… sure?’ The blue sphere between the two pyramids looked a little hazier than usual.

‘Yes,’ Shalom said with no elaboration. Then, perhaps pitying Chief, she explained. ‘Schorl’s had a few tweaks, but there’s nothing to worry about. Still very capable.’

‘I don’t doubt it,’ Chief said. It wasn’t just Shalom’s soft but convincing voice that managed to command attention even at a low volume that had Chief believing her. She’d seen the footage of Shalom calling down lasers that could destroy a city. And from her performance under Paradeisos, you could only acknowledge that this woman was formidable. She was a beast. Capable indeed.

‘I would have thought you’d be out of uniform,’ Shalom said.

‘Why? This is work.’

‘It’s also a date.’

Right, Shalom had won the bid for the white envelope. It was a date, but to Chief, this was a date for work. She wasn’t here because she wanted to be. She didn’t make the choice of going on this date because she was interested in the other party. She was here because the MBCC lacked money, and Faye came up with this ridiculous idea.

‘I won’t complain,’ Shalom said. ‘You do look good in uniform. You’re one of those lucky ones who will look good in almost anything.’

‘Thanks,’ Chief said with no enthusiasm. The people who went on dates for a living, selling their time to people, creating a fake fantasy for them, how did they do it with a smile? Every occupation deserves respect.

‘I was going to secure the other package as well, the black envelope for the fancy date, but Paradeisos wouldn’t allow it due to scheduling conflicts. A shame.’

‘I’m surprised you managed to win this one. There were a lot of wealthy Sinners there that night.’ Chief was curious as to how much this had cost Shalom, but she didn’t dare ask. She didn’t want to be in shock for the rest of the day. Finding out how much Cabernet had paid for her kissing booth ticket had been something that still bothered Chief to this day. Every now and then, she’d find herself thinking how ridiculous it was that people were throwing around so much money. Were people really so bored at the MBCC? Or have I really just become someone so entertaining to mess with to the point that they’d literally pay for it? Chief didn’t know how to feel about that. Either way, Paradeisos must be paying Shalom well if she could win against all those other wealthy Sinners.

‘Don’t underestimate Paradeisos’s coffers.’

‘It’s hard to believe that they would let you do this in the first place, and you seem to be saying that they paid for it.’

‘They did. As far as Paradeisos is concerned, this is work, too.’

Chief wondered if it was truly work or if Shalom simply convinced her colleagues somehow. This Sinner was crafty and could make almost anything happen. ‘There’s no way this is considered work. Paradeisos wouldn’t be that silly, would they?’

‘Getting close to the chief of the MBCC is vital. Understanding you, gathering intelligence, it’s all work-related.’

‘Ah, too bad. And here I thought maybe you liked me a little.’ Chief was kidding, trying to find a way to lighten her own mood so that she wouldn’t ruin this date. Shalom had paid after all. The customer needs to be happy and satisfied. Wow. I really am starting to think strangely.

Shalom’s smile widened a tad. ‘I do like you.’

It was hard to tell if that was true or not. Chief always found it difficult to read Shalom. ‘So, where are we going? Is it a café?’ A common date spot for a casual date. Chief wouldn’t be surprised at the choice. Maybe it was a movie date, or perhaps they’d walk around and shop a little.

‘Oh, nothing so boring,’ Shalom said.

‘It’s not a theme park date, is it?’

‘Is that what you would have liked? I’m not opposed to changing the itinerary if that’s so.’

Chief shook her head. She didn’t want to go on rides and walk around till her feet hurt. It was just a guess. What else did people do for dates? Maybe picnic at a park or a museum visit. Art galleries were quite nice. Chief may not be able to appreciate art as much as some people did—she thought of Lisa sneering at her—but she could still enjoy it.

‘We’re going for breakfast first,’ Shalom said, looking out the window. DisCity was full of vehicles and citizens walking the streets even in the morning.

‘Sounds good.’

‘And then we’re going to watch something fun.’

Oh, so it was something like a movie date, then. No surprise there. Very chill. Very normal.

‘Let me guess, you think we’re seeing a film,’ Shalom said.

‘Are we not?’

‘No. There’s nothing of interest that’s showing.’

‘Nothing like food documentaries or similar?’

‘Do you think that’s all I watch?’

‘I honestly have no idea. I’ve come to realise that I don’t know much about you outside of work.’

‘Then we’ll get to know each other better today.’

‘So, are you going to tell me that we’re going to see some animals at the zoo or something?’

‘You really do like the safe and boring options, don’t you? I guess I can’t fault you. You’re the chief of the MBCC after all. Safety’s a priority in many situations.’

Chief raised a brow. Shalom kept mentioning things like boredom, fun, and safety. And sure, the activities that had popped up in conversation could certainly be classified as mundane. But people tended to like that on dates, didn’t they? Why else would so many people do the same things over and over?

With her unfaltering smile, Shalom turned to meet Chief’s gaze. ‘We’re going to watch some wrestling.’

Chapter Text

It wasn’t afternoon yet, but there were wrestling matches at this time. Shalom had said so. She must be right. Because she’s Shalom. Still, Chief found it hard to wrap her head around the fact that they were going to watch wrestling on a date. The fog of confusing seemed to get thicker the longer she worked at the MBCC. Weird things were always happening, to the point where it was strange if things were ever normal.

Chief entered the venue with Shalom and Rahu. The space was small. Nothing like the big arenas you’d see on TV. The room fit the wrestling ring and about five rows of people surrounding it. As the seconds passed by, the place became packed, and the chattering bounced off the walls.

Rahu extended an arm, blocking some people from pushing into Chief. The three of them stood in front of the ring. It was a good spot that would allow them an unobstructed view of what was to come.

Watching wrestling in the morning. On a date… with a Sinner from Paradeisos and her bodyguard. The life of the chief of MBCC was a peculiar one.

It wasn’t long till the match began after the competitors were introduced and welcomed with a round of loud cheers. It was even quicker for the place to get stuffy and much too warm. Rahu was wearing that mask of hers. How had she not fainted?

One of the wrestlers lifted his opponent over his shoulder. Screams and shouts from the audience rose in volume, almost drowning out the commentator’s words through the microphone. Chief was sure the room shook when the lifted man was slammed into a board wrapped with barbed wire. The board shattered, the wire tore through skin, and blood dripped.

Chief turned to her right, glanced at Shalom whose arm was pressed up into Chief’s side.

Shalom adjusted her sunglasses and looked up at Chief through them. That soft smile hadn’t left Shalom’s face since this morning, or, well, ever as far as Chief knew. Shalom returned her gaze to the spectacle before them, and Chief wondered if she was enjoying this. Seriously, it was so hard to tell with Shalom.

Over her shoulder, Chief saw Rahu standing behind, having just shoved a rowdy audience member back from bumping into Shalom. And for a moment, Chief wondered what Rahu would be like in the wrestling ring. She’d tear the whole place down.

‘Is there a reason why we’re here?’ Chief asked Shalom, watching the injured wrestler recover in a foldable chair. ‘Are you a fan of these… sports?’

‘I’m not a fan, no,’ Shalom answered, eyes on the staff putting wooden sticks on the stage. ‘I happened across an interesting conversation when I passed by your cafeteria a few weeks ago. I was speaking to a member of staff and couldn’t help but overhear.’

The MBCC cafeterias served good food and brewed fun conversations, but talk that led Chief to a wrestling date? What.

‘Some of your Sinners were making a tier list for bad date ideas,’ Shalom continued. ‘The tier list was ranked based on how unlikely it was to get a kiss at the end of the date, and watching a wrestling match had been high on the list.’

Chief frowned. ‘Okay, so then, why are we here if it’s bad?’

‘Because Donald and his friends are wrong.’

Donald usually ate with Kawa-Kawa, Letta, Eureka, and Mess. It was an unexpected group, but they’d always got along, and Chief was just glad to see friendships form. What Shalom had revealed had caused Chief to be confused to the point where her thoughts became a series of question marks flashing in her mind.

‘You’ll see, Chief,’ Shalom said. ‘Wrestling really isn’t so bad.’ Just as she’d said that, a thick stick several metres long was swung at the uninjured wrestler. The wood snapped across his back, and he crashed to the ground.

Schorl floated a little closer.

The question marks multiplied. Was Chief brought here just because Shalom wanted to prove some silly point? It wasn’t like she was going to shove it into Donald’s face and tell him he was incorrect, so why do all this? Who would even know Shalom had proved that the tier list was wrong? This woman… was so strange.

The bleeding men tackled each other, dived off the stage in the momentum, and went hurtling towards them.

Chief stepped back in reflex, but Shalom hadn’t so much as flinched. A firm hand pulled Chief back. It was Rahu. She slid in front of Chief just as the two men tumbled to her feet. Shalom gazed down at them, watching them struggle, limbs flailing and noses bleeding. Seconds later, they’d rolled away.

This time, Rahu looked over her shoulder at Chief. There was a silent question in her pale eyes.

‘I’m fine, thanks,’ Chief said.

Rahu nodded.

It would be a lie to say that this gallant Sinner wasn’t attractive. Rahu was tall, capable, and beneath that mask was a pretty face with a sharp jawline. Her hair was long and silky, looking like it belonged in a shampoo commercial. Even the scar that ran over her eye looked more like an accessory to accentuate her beauty than any sort of disfigurement that would take away from it.

And Shalom was equally beautiful. Clear skin, ombre hair, smooth voice. Her face was less intimidating than Rahu’s, but that was more than made up for with her presence. And those all-knowing eyes… mysterious, alluring…

They worked well together when it came to missions. This duo was as reliable as they came in getting shit done. They seemed like the perfect pair. Which is why I feel like a third wheel.

‘So,’ Shalom said, ‘what’s your type, Chief?’

‘My type?’

‘Lovers.’

‘Oh, um, I’m not sure?’ It wasn’t a lie. Chief had never sat down to contemplate about such a thing with seriousness. She didn’t have a clear answer. And okay, she had some sort of idea, like how she wouldn’t like a genocidal maniac or some wannabe tyrant trying to create some new world order. She wouldn’t like someone who abused her or tried to make her life difficult in a way she didn’t appreciate either. But other than all these very obvious key points, what else was there? Someone who was kind would be nice. Someone who made her heart race? She could say someone funny, too. But everyone was funny in their own way if you took the time to notice it. So, what was her type? She figured she’d fall in love with whoever she loved.

Shalom hummed. ‘Did you know Rahu here is quite fond of you?’

Both Chief and Rahu whipped their heads to stare at Shalom who chuckled at their reaction.

Rahu refused to meet Chief’s gaze. And it was unclear whether there was a faint tinge of pink on Rahu’s cheeks spreading out from under the mask or if Chief was seeing things. It was warm in the room, too, so it could be that. Was Shalom making things up or was this actually… Rahu cleared her throat.

‘Ah, looks like things are finishing up here,’ Shalom said. ‘Let’s head back, shall we?’

Chief surveyed the mess of broken wood, barbed wire, and smears of blood all over the wrestling ring. ‘Right, let’s go.’

On their way out, they had to manoeuvre between the audience that remained behind, still basking in the aftermath of violence. Rahu brushed them to the side, opening a path for Chief and Shalom. When a group of people, trying to move to the front, drove into them from the left, Rahu was there to shield Chief with her body.

Shalom pressed up into Chief’s back, trying to avoid the cheering audience on the other side. And in doing so, Chief ended up pressed into Rahu’s front.

‘S-sorry,’ Chief said.

But Rahu didn’t say anything. She wrapped an arm around Chief, holding her, protecting her.

And Chief felt her face heat up at the intimacy of not just being pressed up against a literal supermodel of a Sinner but being sandwiched between two of them. She heard Shalom’s light chuckle from behind.

‘We’re both quite fond of you, Chief,’ Shalom said into Chief’s ear. The three of them, bundled up together, were still exiting the venue.

‘You have to stop messing with me,’ Chief said, gulping.

‘Who said I was messing with you?’ Though Shalom’s smile couldn’t be seen, it was surely there. It could be heard in her words. ‘I’ll offer you a little information to show my sincerity. I couldn’t help but notice that your supply office has been making a lot of money.’

Chief frowned. Why the random topic? ‘Yeah, it does bring in quite a bit.’

‘I think you’d be surprised at how much.’

‘W—’

An empty bottle of DisEnergy arced through the air, and before it could hit Chief’s head, Rahu slapped it away with the back of her hand.

‘Always remember that there’s more to know, Chief,’ Shalom said. Unfazed by the surrounding chaos. ‘AISNO holds most of the secrets. However…’

AISNO? That name again. 000 had said they were the gods. What sort of religion was it again?

‘I doubt they know everything,’ Shalom continued. ‘Building things takes time.’

‘What?’

‘And this story isn’t theirs to fully control,’ Shalom said.

‘I literally have no idea what you’re talking about,’ Chief said. The number of question marks that had spawned in Chief’s head today was a new record.

‘Don’t worry about it, Chief. Things will be fine as long as our author here still likes us enough.’

Just what is she talking about? Chief wondered.

Finally, they made it out of the venue. The blast of fresh air was rejuvenating. My God, I feel like I can finally breathe. Oxygen, my love, come to me.

‘How did you like the wrestling?’ Shalom asked as they made their way to their car.

‘It wasn’t really to my taste,’ Chief said, trying to tidy her hair. It had gotten messy from all the pushing and shoving, but somehow, Shalom’s and Rahu’s hair was still impeccable, no stray strands at all. I’m kind of jealous.

Shalom stopped in front of the car door that Rahu had opened for her. Reaching out, Shalom smoothed Chief’s hair while Rahu watched beside her.

‘T-thanks,’ Chief said.

‘You’re welcome. No wrestling next time, then.’

‘Next time? We’re having another date?’ But Shalom only won the bid on the white envelope.

Shalom’s smile widened a little. ‘Not anytime soon, unfortunately. Lean down.’

More question marks, but Chief did as she was told. Maybe Shalom couldn’t reach the hairs at the top.

Shalom leaned in a little, one hand on Chief’s cheek. ‘I wonder if you’ll allow this.’

Chief blinked, heart speeding up at the close proximity.

‘It’s a date after all,’ Shalom said.

Right, it was, wasn’t it? And here, Shalom expected a kiss to end the date with. Was kissing an agent from Paradeisos appropriate for the chief of MBCC? Chief didn’t want to disappoint her client. Client? What the—no. She’s not my customer. Still, Shalom likely paid a hefty amount for this date. Would bad reviews be an issue? Reviews? This isn’t a business!

Shalom waited, not rushing Chief, and giving her a choice.

Chief found herself leaning forward, and Shalom met her halfway. It was a quick kiss. Chaste. But the heat she felt was burning her lips and all the way through her body.

‘Thank you, Chief,’ Shalom said, stepping back. ‘Rahu, it’s your turn.’

Chief’s head snapped to Rahu, who was staring back at her. ‘Um, you really don’t have to if you don’t—’

‘Shh, Chief,’ Shalom said with a hushing motion.

Rahu took her mask off, slowly stepped towards Chief, and leaned down. As she tilted her head, her eyes locked with Chief’s. Rahu’s lips landed on Chief’s cheek. It had been quicker than Shalom’s kiss, and in a second, Rahu had put on her mask again.

Chief was sure that was a blush forming on Rahu’s face. Or maybe today was just a dream. A hallucination. Everything was so confusing today. Question marks everywhere.

Schorl twirled.

‘I was right,’ Shalom said. ‘Wrestling isn’t at the top of the tier list of unkissable dates.’

Chapter Text

Chief blinked awake. How many times have I nodded off? There was a blob of ink on the document in front of her from where she’d held the pen down for who knows how long. Rising from her chair, she lifted her arms for a good stretch. After her joints popped, Chief headed out of the office. Her phone showed that it was just past two in the morning. I need some caffeine if I’m going to finish up all that paperwork.

It didn’t take long to reach the cafeteria. There’d be no staff to serve anybody at this time, but Chief could work the coffee machine herself. And if for some reason she couldn’t, she’d settle for the coffee from the vending machine down the corridor. The sludge from that machine tasted burnt, though, so it was always a last resort.

She stepped through the double doors, into the darkness, and headed for the lights. Chief’s jaw clicked when she yawned, and her eyes watered. Popping joints and clicking jaws all the time. Am I getting old? She bumped into a shadow. ‘Shit.’ Her heart almost came up her throat.

‘Oh dear,’ a familiar voice said. It was soft.

‘Who’s—’

‘Chief?’

‘Um, yes? Who’s speaking?’

‘It’s me. Moore.’

‘Give me a second.’ Chief stepped away and flipped a switch, flooding the cafeteria with light.

Moore made a sound of surprise as she shielded her eyes from the brightness. Her long hair, tied up, was looking messier than usual. ‘Like a flashbang, only it’s an extended flash…’

‘Sorry,’ Chief said, squinting. Her eyes were burning, too. ‘Why didn’t you turn the lights on?’

‘I can see fine in the dark.’

‘Right, I forgot.’ She guided me through the bureau once when we had a power outage. It was like the Sinner had night vision or something.

‘That’s all right,’ Moore said. ‘Better safe than to trip, crack your skull, and have your brains leak out.’ The pleasantness in Moore’s voice paired with her word choice made Chief uncomfortable. ‘Humans aren’t like tech. Can’t just replace the parts—most of the time anyway—and we can’t fix everything that doesn’t work.’

‘Right, we can’t just debug all the problems away, can we?’

Moore smiled. ‘Are you reading my mind?’

‘I don’t have that ability.’ Chief didn’t voice the comment that even with the lights on, Moore was still likely to hurt herself due to her clumsy nature. ‘But why are you here at this time?’

‘Probably the same reason why you’re here, Chief.’

‘Coffee?’

Moore nodded. ‘It’s hard to keep my eyes open.’

Chief could relate. ‘Let’s get some caffeine, then.’

They stared at the coffee machine. It was difficult to decide on what to drink. Chief was going to go for the usual espresso with the usual beans that she usually drank. The ‘usual’ stuff was generally safe to consume at the MBCC.

‘They have Sleepless Night here,’ Moore said.

‘The last time you drank that, you fell asleep almost straight away.’

‘I did, didn’t I? How about the Hot Eastiano?’

Chief remembered how desperate Moore had been for caffeine when the MBCC had run out of coffee due to a mistake with inventory management. The ducks had been apologetic. Moore had needed to stay awake to get her work done, which led her to trying the mysterious drink called Hot Eastiano. It was an ominous black ooze. Chief swore she could see the miasma rising from it.

And Moore downed it like it was nothing.

She’d consumed the drink that was as bitter as life like it was simply a cup of water. What a madwoman.

‘I’m not sure I can stomach that.’ Chief said, remembering the repulsive taste that had shrivelled her tongue the last time it came in contact with the beverage. ‘But you’re free to drink it.’

Moore shook her head. ‘I’d like to have what you have this time.’

‘Why?’

‘Why not?’

‘Okay, well, I need something really strong.’ Chief mused over their options in front of them. ‘But also something that won’t kill me.’ She was tempted to just throw in some of the grounds from the opened bags of coffee that had been left out because choice paralysis was a waste of time. But if Moore was having the same drink, Chief felt a responsibility to choose something good.

‘Why don’t we try mixing things up?’ Moore asked.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, literally mixing things up. You pick a coffee, any coffee. I’ll pick a tea, and we can mix them.’

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea…’

Moore hummed. ‘You’re right. We should throw in an energy drink, too.’

‘That’s n—’

‘If you’re worried that it’s not enough, we—’

‘That’s really not it. I’m scared that we’ll get an upset stomach.’

‘Oh, you won’t. It’s perfectly safe.’

‘And how do you know that?’

‘Self testing.’

Chief stared at Moore.

‘I’ve had drinks like that multiple times. It’s much more effective than coffee on its own, though I don’t know if it’s just a placebo effect, and it doesn’t taste all that bad. At least, it’s easier on the tastebuds than Hot Eastiano is.’

If it’s not as bad as Hot Eastiano… maybe it’s all right.

‘It’s not my go to drink, but it does help me get my work done in record time,’ Moore said.

Minutes later, they were sat at one of the dining tables with a steaming cup of caffeine cocktail in front of each of them. The liquid had become a greyish brown inside the paper cups after stirring in the energy drink.

Chief usually took her coffee back to the office. It wasn’t that she was always eager to work, she was just eager to get off work. And to do that, she had to finish her tasks. Being a workaholic didn’t mean you had to derive pleasure from work. It was odd to be seated in the large cafeteria at this time. The seats were empty, and the chattering and smell of hot food was missing.

‘I wonder if maybe we should take caffeine pills,’ Chief said, yawning again.

‘But where’s the fun in that?’ Moore said. ‘Drinking something is much nicer. It also keeps you hydrated.’

‘Caffeine’s a diuretic, though.’

‘Studies have shown that they don’t affect the body too much when it comes to dehydration. You’d need excessive amounts of caffeine for the effect to be significant.’

‘Is that true?’

‘From what I’ve read. Although… I’m not sure? I don’t really remember where I read it from.’

Chief wondered if Moore truly wasn’t sure, of if she just wanted Chief to do her own research.

‘What’s the thing you wanted to talk to me about?’ Moore asked, taking a sip of her drink. ‘I got your messages.’

I almost forgot about that with how tired I am. ‘I know you’re highly skilled in your field. Perhaps the best in DisCity.’

‘Nothing like a late night dose of flattery.’ Moore smiled.

Chief ignored the comment. ‘There’s something I need you to look into for me. As a Nirvana technician, I’m sure you’re fully capable of getting into the supply office’s data records.’

‘As a Nirvana technician I shouldn’t even be considering something like that.’

‘Then, as Moore.’

‘Hm.’ Moore tilted her head to the side. ‘Do I want to know why you can’t ask the supply office directly for what you want?’

‘It’s important, Moore. Please.’ There were only three months left till New Year’s. Chief was in a rush.

‘If I don’t help you with this, Chief. Who would you turn to?’

‘Maybe Pine and L.L.,’ Chief said. ‘They’re not as equipped as you are for such a task, but I think they might be able to figure something out if they work together with Bianca. And I’ll have Matilda supervise which should help.’

‘That’s not ideal, is it?’

‘No. That’s why I’m asking you. Please, Moore. I need you.’

Moore smiled and Chief was hopeful for a moment. ‘The thing is, Miss Faye’s purchased special coffee beans for me. She said that they contain several times the caffeine content of any other coffee that you have here at the MBCC. I’m not sure if it’s true because I don’t feel much different after drinking it, but it does taste nice. I’ve run out, but she’s ordering more. Do you know what I’m saying, Chief?’

What could Chief offer Moore that was better? ‘I could buy you any coffee that you’d like.’

Moore chuckled. ‘That wasn’t my point, Chief. I appreciate that Miss Faye thought about me.’

‘Could I offer you anything in return for your help?’

‘Well… how about you think about me a little, too?’

Chief frowned. What did that mean? Think about Moore? What would be something that she would want? Something that Moore would find valuable. She liked code. She liked coffee. She liked…

Moore sipped from her cup, gaze lingering on Chief.

Why’s she staring at me like that? Now that Chief thought about it, Moore had always given her lingering looks. ‘You look amused,’ Chief said.

‘I am.’

‘How about I owe you a favour?’ Chief offered.

Moore hummed, looking thoughtful.

I don’t know what else I could give her. Moore’s a difficult one. Actually, all the Sinners are, but… Moore…

‘All right,’ Moore said.

Chief brightened up. ‘Really?’

‘Yes.’

Just like that? A favour?

‘It seemed like you thought about me for a while there,’ Moore said.

Chief blinked. She did. Was that really all Moore wanted?

‘Us night owls have to stick together,’ Moore said, covering Chief’s hand with hers and giving it a squeeze.

Chief couldn’t help but notice how comfortable and warm Moore’s hand was. ‘I’m lucky that I’m a night owl, then.’

‘Let’s get coffee again sometime,’ Moore said.

‘Sure.’

‘A date for us night owls.’

Chief smiled. Then she picked up her untouched caffeine cocktail. The steam was fading by now. Knowing that she wouldn’t scald her tongue, she took a large gulp of the beverage and regretted instantly. She almost gagged. But then she reminded herself that she needed to ingest it to get back to work. ‘The things I do for the MBCC…’ she muttered before proceeding to chug the rest.

Moore chuckled and rested her chin on her palm as she watched Chief suffer. The Nirvana technician’s cup was already empty.

Chapter Text

‘Faye never revealed who the winner of the fancy date was,’ Chief said in the passenger seat next to Nightingale. ‘Only said it was a Sinner.’

‘Apparently, the person who’d won wanted it to be a surprise,’ Nightingale said, bringing the car to a stop at a red light. ‘Even I don’t know who it is.’ She sighed, tapping a finger on the driving wheel.

‘No need to be worried. It’ll be one of the Sinners that we know, so there’s no danger.’

Nightingale’s brows drew together as she glanced at Chief. ‘Sinners are dangerous.’

‘I know, but you get what I mean. They wouldn’t do anything crazy—okay, there’s a high chance of that. It’s in their blood or something. But I mean, they won’t kill me. Not intentionally anyway.’

‘Is that supposed to be reassuring?’ The light turned green, and they were off again.

‘Is it not?’

‘No.’

‘It is for me. Better than it being an unknown Sinner who’d be happy to murder me before we become friends.’

‘Might I remind you that the majority of the Sinners that you know started out that way.’

‘Shows how we can all get along if we try, hm?’

Nightingale snorted. ‘Do you want me to tail you?’

‘What?’

‘I can be discreet. If anything happens, you’ll at least have me there.’

‘But what will happen?’

Nightingale shrugged, eyes on the road. ‘Just in case. That date you went on with Shalom... I should have been there too.’ Nightingale had tried, but she had so much to do at the MBCC that day, and Chief had begged her to make sure the bureau survived when she was away. Nightingale ended up shutting down a mech that Summer had secretly built. Chief had made the right call.

‘Things will be fine, Nightingale. You’ve already gone out of your way to chauffeur me on your lunch break when I could have driven myself. You don’t have to do more. And I’d much rather you protect us from getting into more debt like you did last time.’

Nightingale took a deep breath and exhaled. ‘I’m actually jealous,’ she muttered.

‘Did you say you’re jealous?’

‘No.’

‘I’m pretty sure that’s what—’

‘I was reminding myself to remind medical to remind Faye to check stock of the gel that the Sinners use.’

That’s a lot of reminding. ‘Right.’

‘I’ll hold down the fort for you, though. I’m your reliable adjutant after all.’

‘That’s right. There’s nobody I trust more.’

Nightingale smiled.

It was a short drive to the seaside, and the wheels of the car crunched on top of the gravel where they parked.

‘Thanks, Nightingale. I’ll see you at the bureau tomorrow.’ Chief undid her seatbelt and had her hand on the door handle when Nightingale called out to her. She turned to her adjutant who was offering her a handgun. ‘Um...’

‘Take it with you, Chief.’

‘I really don’t think I need a gun to go on a date.’

‘You should be carrying one whether you’re on a date or not with all the trouble you get into.’

‘It’s really not necessary.’

‘But it is. You might think you’re some immortal protagonist, but one day you’ll run out of miracles. Even main characters can be killed and replaced.’

‘Oh, come on. You’re starting to sound like that girl I keep dreaming of.’

Nightingale’s brow twitched. ‘Who?’

‘I... don’t really know. I never see her face clearly. Don’t give me that look. It’s the truth. She wears a white dress, and I feel like I know her, but...’ Chief shrugged.

‘You should tell medical about it, and take the gun. Please.’

‘I dream all the time,’ Chief said, accepting the gun. It was cold, and she didn’t like it. Weapons didn’t feel very good, but she wondered how much of that was really just her brain telling her that weapons were generally not used for good things.

‘And they often hint at dangerous matters,’ Nightingale said. ‘That’s why medical wants records of them.’

‘Not that often. I dreamt of bungee jumping with the ducks, y’know.’

Nightingale frowned. ‘Might have to look into securing all the bungee jumping sites to protect you.’

‘And I dreamt of eating so much ice cream with Hella and Hecate that I went bankrupt.’

‘We should look into your diet and spending—’

‘I also dreamt of dancing with you.’

Nightingale blinked.

‘It was at some party. Christmas? No, it might have been a New Years celebration. You were so beautiful, smiling and laughing with everyone. I don’t remember much else other than twirling you around, but it was nice. I woke up all warm and fuzzy.’

Clearing her throat, Nightingale looked away. There was a dusting of pink on her cheeks.

‘What I’m trying to say is, you’re worrying too much.’ Chief smiled. ‘I appreciate it. I appreciate you. But I don’t want my adjutant under all this stress when there’s no need for it.’

‘I...’

‘Look at me, Nightingale.’ Chief took Nightingale’s gloved hand.

Their eyes met.

‘I’ll be fine,’ Chief said, giving Nightingale a squeeze. ‘Trust me.’

A pause, then Nightingale nodded, squeezing back. ‘Just... be careful.’

‘I will.’ Chief grinned and proceeded to exit the car. She slipped the gun into the side compartment of the door as she stepped out and closed it behind her.

‘Don’t get kidnapped!’ Nightingale yelled from the rolled down window as Chief walked away.

Chief turned around and waved at her. ‘You’re acting like my mother!’ she yelled back. ‘Or maybe a wife?’ She could see Nightingale’s face turn red even from a distance and couldn’t help but chuckle when her adjutant reversed and drove away in mere seconds. Hopefully that’ll keep her mind off those worries for a little while. She had to admit, teasing Nightingale was fun. I’m so lucky that she cares so much.

The weather was fair, and Chief wondered how long she’d have to wait for the Sinner to show up for their date. She kept glancing around as she stepped nearer and nearer to the sea. She didn’t walk on the sand, though. That was for the date. A seaside stroll to start it off. It wasn’t a busy place, especially at lunch and on a work day, but no matter how much she scanned around her, she couldn’t see anybody she recognised.

Guess I’ll just wait here. Chief took a seat on a low wall nearby and gazed out at the gentle waves moving in and out. The smell of the sea was... salty. That’s all it was. Neither good nor bad. Fresh air was nice, though. She could do with more of it. Better than the stale air inside the office. Now that I think about it, we could do with some upgrades to the ventilation. Oh, but that requires money, and we don’t have much of that, do we? That’s why I’m here staring at the waves.

As her mind began to drift, thinking about the tasks and missions she’d have to deal with later, her vision went black. Someone had cupped their hands over Chief's eyes. Behind her came a familiar voice.

‘Miss me?’ they asked.