Walk the Talk
(A/N): Ah, Blazblue… Where it all began…
My tussle with Blazblue has been a peculiar one at best. It's a series I've always wanted to get into, and while I like the characters and am drawn into it, I've never been able to actually truly get into it if you catch my drift :O
Rest assured, it's been a full year and a month since my last Blazblue fic and it only seems right to kill three birds with one stone – the last fic of the year, a request, and my own need – by returning to another continuation of my series of Kokonoe and Ragna fics!
Overall I've been trying to portray the evolution of their relationship over the course of the many Kokonoe fics I've written, and I hope I've been able to get that across… Because this fic is meant to thrive off that, if it goes according to plan!
As always, I somewhat recommend reading the Blazblue fics preceding this in order to get a feel for the sort of relationship that's been festering on my profile for all this time. It isn't necessary to be honest: It's a simple relationship :P
Time for some cosplaying goodness mixed with a nice healthy dose of angst! I hope you enjoy :D
WARNING: Spelling errors, OOC portrayals of everyone and anyone, butchery of canon, peculiar inferences of how relationships work from a 17 year old with no friends, language, cosplay, awkward comedy and a Tsundere Kokonoe!
Chapter One: Monday Downs
With a back as straight as her laces, Litchi Faye-Ling clopped across the frozen and sterile white floor of the laboratory with a certain spring to her step. She hadn't really been at work for that long, yet already the day seemed to drag on like a carriage fastened to the back of a youthful and sickly mare – grinding to a halt with the smallest inconvenience; be it a stray pebble or a subordinate in the office asking her to do his job for him.
Reaching a circle of desks that was supposedly the department of typing gibberish or something-or-other, she leaned for a batch of perfectly edged papers; each lined with the same monotonous black scrawl that covered every single sheet in this cold, moody lab. Sometimes she wondered if she was the only source of colour this side of Kagutsuchi: That's how far the horizon stretched in such a blank, sprawling building.
Truly, she probably didn't intend to distract a nearby theorist clacking away at a keyboard as she reached for the work – her boisterous bust almost looking like it was dragging her down like a pair of weights strapped to her chest. Litchi noticed him suddenly crossing his legs with all the subtlety of a sleep deprived drill sergeant; she didn't quite know why though as she spun around and gracefully slinked away with the documents in tow.
Those mind-numbing clops continued to echo over the constant hum and toil of whirring machines and sizzling concoctions. She didn't actually know what most of the organisation was working towards: All she ever seemed to do was ferry paperwork, drink coffee, patch plasters on joints and occasionally spin on her chair like an easy-to-please youth when no one had an eye on her.
"We're alone in a vast, meaningless universe. But still…"
"You've got to have a laugh."
It didn't matter to her as she traced the same steps she'd followed a thousand and one times before. She didn't live for work, she lived for what came after: A lovely day at home, with her feet up and a joyous little snooze with her significant other.
Oh, the games they could play.
'twas a damn shame that they spent so much time apart, their careers dictating where and when they met – when the planets align, he'd said once over a moonlit dinner, they'd have their moments. Yet at the same time it only seemed to strengthen their days together: so few, yet so… Succulent.
Thankfully no one could hear her subdued giggle at the prospect, her palms tingling with pins and needles as she heaved her paper stack forward. Once she got home, it would be a night to remember – like every glorious moment she spent with the one she loved.
When she rounded the same corner she'd rounded mere minutes before, she wasn't entirely surprised by what she spotted. True, it was strange to see the pink-haired wit outside of her office on a busy day, yet it was perfectly normal to see her screaming at an inanimate object. A chorus of curses spouted from her mouth, as she stomped on the ground with frustration.
"Damn piece of…!" she growled, throttling a buzzing coffee machine between her boney fists and rocking the rickety table supporting it onto the most extreme sides of its legs. The machine sputtered for a moment, only for its flow of piping hot drink to come to a halt. Nearby workers watched on as their chief continued to scream, sounding less annoyed and more enraged. "Useless heap of…!" the woman booted the counter with all of her might, stubbing her sandalled toe on the thick, ringing wood. She staggered back with rage as the coffee machine spat out another congealed blob of brown, her well-chipped mug filled to its top. With one last groan she picked up the drink, booting the table with the flat of her foot as she turned away from her newly formed rival. "… Bitch."
That was Kokonoe for you.
Kokonoe had always been one quick to anger, holding a level of tolerance weaker than the last pint of the day. Strolling across the freezing floor lazily, she just managed to catch the staring eyes of her underlings before they could bury their noses back into their papers. Her shoulders held firm, as if eager for a fight. "What?" she said bluntly, entirely ignoring the many spillages of her overstocked mug. Taking up the seat as a representative, one of the three on trial began to speak up – only to be cut off after his first vowel. "Shut up and get back to work!"
Her sandals sounding more like lead-lined combat boots than the cheap and flimsy plastic that they were actually made of, Kokonoe stomped towards the inner sanctum that was her small, stuffy and shady office. Like the deranged elder that frequents most bus journeys, she began to lowly mumble and mutter to herself as she fiddled with the cumbersome lock – the occasional "bastard" and "crap" being audible amongst the garbled language of angrish that she spoke. At last she heaved the door open, slipping through the smallest of gaps before slamming it closed at her six – the "Do Not Disturb" sign that sat by the doorknob loudly clanking to the floor with perfect comedic timing. As the dust settled Litchi turned to the workers, who after an exchange of peculiar glances casually returned to their trade.
The spokesman from before noticed Litchi consternation – as well as her bust - and smiled at her warmly, the waft of age-old coffee and digestive biscuits managing to reach her from here. "She always does that." He gestured at the door, drawing attention to the many chips and scratches that weeks of punishment and abuse had brought the adjacent walls. Like his colleagues he bowed his head down and return to work, continuing as a mere afterthought. "No need to worry, it's normal for her."
Litchi scowled grimly, clumsily setting the documents down alongside the researcher's stall and creaking to her full height upon towering heels. Sounding like a minstrel knocking coconuts together to a rhythm, she confidently strode towards the professor's door as the three scientists nervously looked on - as if she was a Gazelle strutting into a Lion's den to call its pride leader fat.
And they had the audacity to call themselves scientists.
Wasn't the first rule of science to pursue the truth no matter the effort required?
… Or was it "always wear white lab coats"?
At the foot of the door Litchi plucked the disturbed "DND" sign from its discarded place, dusting off the once pristine warning with the end of her stumpy necktie. She honestly wondered if it had been placed on the door by the trio behind her as a practical joke, or by Kokonoe in an attempt to be as reclusive as possible. While her superior wasn't particularly sociable, something told her that even she wouldn't go so far as to make a sign.
It took a single nudge to push the door open, the furious feline having forgotten to turn the lock behind her during her throes of rage. Litchi poked her head through into the shady office, instantly finding Kokonoe at her desk fiddling with her work. The two shared a stare of mutual awkwardness, their eyebrows competing in how high they could rise. "… Good morning!" Litchi greeted enthusiastically, seeing the lack of immediate response as permission to hop into the room and close the door behind her – which she did with particular gusto.
A pair of deformed, stale looking marshmellows bobbed and floated upon the thick brown goo that Kokonoe had been informed was fresh coffee, the lukewarm beverage sitting by the woman's bony palms. "… Hi." She eventually responded bitterly, scowling so forcefully that her lips seemed to quiver with effort.
Litchi rocked on her heels childishly, hoping that the young woman would continue with the right stimulus. Licking her lips, she spoke with the same boundless enthusiasm she saved for unhappy children and tax collectors. "… How's the day going then, Kokonoe?" she asked, glancing at the office's drawn curtains – a slight iridescence through the thin fabric. Litchi snickered comically at the darkness of the room, despite the summer sun riding high and mighty. "How's the tan?"
"Fine." Kokonoe instantly responded to the first question, either ignoring or missing the second one as her long fingers glided across a computer keyboard with trained speed. The keys roared with use at a constant chorus as she pumped out vowels and constants, her eyes fixed on the screen as she spoke. "I'm working."
The lack of a glow upon Kokonoe's graceful spectacles was the first sign that she was lying; the second was the fact that Litchi had a clear view of the monitor from this angle. "It's not on." She pointed out, prompting the professor's fingers to freeze in place as if she could feel a loud sneeze developing in her nostrils. Litchi frowned with concern, pacing across the tiny office with the slightest of steps. "… Kokonoe?"
She visibly flinched, her arms and eyes still stuck in place. "What?"
"… Be honest with me." Litchi pried, her ebon hair remaining entirely motionless as she spoke. Kokonoe's hands slunk away from the keyboard and fell to her lap, as did her golden gaze. "Are you feeling okay?"
The chief sneered at her wording, her eyes squinting in insult. "… Do I look like a mental patient to you?" she asked, taking an awkward moment to switch on the computer that she'd insisted was on moments prior. Litchi merely smirked at the woman's reaction, prompting Kokonoe to frown in sudden defence. "… Don't do that."
Her hands met her hips in a sassy, understanding manner. "Something's the matter, isn't it?" she theorised. Kokonoe's reaction was a confirmation in its entirety, her appearance betraying her insecurity. While it seemed cruel, Litchi knew that there was a method to her madness. "I'll find out eventually, there's no point in hiding it!"
Kokonoe clutched onto her thighs nervously, letting off a long, drawn out exhalation to try and ease her tense frame. "I-I need to get this work done, Litchi." She eventually settled on feebly, raising her chin in defiance. "Go bother someone else – preferably a wall."
With sudden enthusiasm Litchi leant on the desk upon her elbows, resting her chin within her open palms. Kokonoe visibly scooted back at her sudden action, the proximity and might of her undying stare sending a shiver of uncertainty down her spine as she rolled away on her wheeled chair. "Boy trouble?" Litchi suggested, the subtle gulp of the pink-haired scientist being ample enough to confirm her theory. She exclaimed with pride, "Boy trouble!"
The professor lowered her head in shame, her knees pressing against one-another with uncharacteristic insecurity. It was truly an adorable thing that whenever the topic of a conversation came to the love life of the feline woman, she'd shift from her usual bitterness to a reserved poise befitting of a timid maiden. She spoke bluntly, completely contradicting the previous metaphor. "Go away."
"Only after you tell me." Litchi demanded stubbornly, wiggling her toes as she leant against the desk. Kokonoe released the tension between her joints, trying to ease her anxious mind. "You know I want to help you, Kokonoe!"
Swallowing her pride – or rather, what was left of it – Kokonoe began to drum her nails against her sticky brown desk with a distinct clitter-clatter, the marshmellows continuing to writhe in her mug like the Wicked Witch melting in water. "… It's just that… Ragna, he…" she paused with reluctance, honestly wondering if she should unload her issues onto her underling. Before she could even decide on the issue her heart spoke on without her – like the unruly bastard it loved to be. "… I rarely get to see him nowadays." Litchi remained silent, her expression considerate as Kokonoe spoke. She felt obligated to continue – as if it would appease the woman before her in some way, shape or form. "… And he doesn't tell me anything."
How many nights and days she'd spent alone.
She needed more than the warmth of duvets on her person.
"H-He's just bored of me, I get it…" Kokonoe argued, her legs crossing with due seriousness. She may have been inexperienced with the complexities of love and relationships, yet it was entropy wasn't it? Even diamonds couldn't last forever. The expression of Litchi caused Kokonoe to have second thoughts about her bitter, cynical interpretation. "This is normal, isn't it?"
"Oh, Kokonoe…" the gorgeous woman sighed, what was meant to be a tone of worry and care sounding more like sheer condescension at her uncooperative and defeatist attitude. Litchi circled the desk with purpose in her step, making to open the shady office's curtains and bathe the room in burning light.
The professor shrugged her shoulders, staring ahead with a frank expression dominating her features. "I just don't know what's ahead…" she muttered, the hints of a whimper emerging from her throat as if her heart was begging her stalwart face to let the tears flow. "…What would happen if Ragna left…" she added, only to trail off much to Litchi's confusion. An unannounced snicker as dry as her eyes and ears punctuated the dread in the air, her legs remained still with indignation. "Listen to me whine and bitch, really."
With a flash the drapes were pulled apart, the shimmering light reflecting off Kokonoe's computer screen and beaming straight back into her eyes. She squinted in irritation, tearing off her glasses before the light could form collective laser beams and set her eyebrows on fire. A pair of hands oozing with confidence clamped onto her shoulders with firm gentleness – a walking contrast if she'd ever seen one. "You're just being negative again, Kokonoe." Litchi diagnosed, trying her damndest to reassure and redirect her defeatist train of thought. "If I was Ragna and I managed to get the attention of a cute girl like you, I'd do everything and anything to stay with you!"
Kokonoe of course flushed with irritation – Litchi always spoke about her like this, and constantly seemed to neglect mentioning the simple detail that she had the general personality of a pruned walnut; and was about half as cooperative as one. The professor had always assumed that her subordinate's ignorance to this fact came down to her being "amply equipped" for dealing with men already, and as a result of this didn't understand that it was a tad bit harder for some women to hold down men without her good fortune. "… But what do I do?" Kokonoe mewled, hating herself for whining yet seeing solace in complaints. It seemed strange, but for some bizarre reason it felt better to whinge about life rather than confront its issues. "It's so… Confusing."
Litchi's fingers drummed on her chief's shoulders for what felt like an eternity, a low hum coming from her throat until both actions halted in unison. "You know what I'd do?"
"No." the grumpy woman muttered. "That's why I'm asking."
Litchi didn't even register her response, as if tuning out her snark had become a natural defence of hers to remain enthusiastic for extended periods. Long digits returned to their rhythm, punctuating her guidance without the comfort of a backrub. "Next time he came home, I'd put on my loveliest clothes..." She thought aloud, imagining a night and a day with her significant other with vivid details. Litchi grinned gleefully, "… And give him a night to remember!"
Kokonoe snarled in response to her openness about sex – like a normal person probably would - batting her hands away from her shoulders and moving to stand. Freezing on bent and trembling knees and letting her thoughts stir in the porridge that was her mind, the pink-haired feline suddenly settle back down onto her chair with realisation. "… To be honest…" she pointed out, glancing at her discarded spectacles upon the desktop. Her balled palms pressed at her eyes in fatigue. "I've got nothing to lose…"
"Oh, stop being so fatalistic." Litchi giggled girlishly, her well-manicured hands returning to Kokonoe's shoulders. More often than not Kokonoe wondered what her workers spent their measly wage packets on – she spent it on taxes and sweets; Litchi probably spent it on clothes and make-up. Those same fingers wrapped around her biceps, willing her to stand effortlessly. "I'm sure this is just a little misunderstanding!"
Yeah, right.
Quite the miscommunication.
Suddenly they were on the move, the tall woman at her back pushing her forward and directing her progress. Kokonoe awkwardly stumbled for balance at this peculiar pace, her legs having difficulty finding a proper footing as she was made to advance with Litchi at the wheel. After two near collisions with random bits of furniture, the professor was brought to her destination in the office: a lonesome mirror, caked in dust yet still beaming with rebounding sunlight. Kokonoe frowned in confusion as she stared at the reflection of herself, and Litchi looking over her shoulder – she didn't even remember having a mirror, that's how little she really cared about how she looked.
"Now then, what do we do with pretty old you?" Litchi chimed like a hairdresser with a rich client's daughter. Her slender digits combed through the professor's pink mane, tugging at the shaped cat-ears that overshadowed her real ones with little concern about the woman who could fire her at any time. Kokonoe scowled as her hair was played with – that rich kid metaphor was making all the more sense. For a second her hair was stretched perfectly straight, before being released and allowed to settle back in place. "Hmmm… Oh, this'll be so fun."
Those rusted cogs that for some reason remained submerged in the gloopy soup of the scientist's head began to click into place as Kokonoe started to realise just what she'd gotten herself into. The maniacal gleam that seemed to emanate from Litchi's eye and her longing tone almost made it sound like she'd been waiting to do what she was about to do for her entire life. "… Make up?" Kokonoe croaked, hoping that her subordinate could still comprehend simple language; the brief silence that ensued made her feel like she said something stupid, making her quickly slap on a continuation. "… O-Or a hair brush… Or something like that?"
"No, no, no!" Litchi cried, resting her chin upon her chief's shoulder. "For an operation like this, we'll have to bring in the big guns!" she patted her head condescendingly, only needing an "aroo?" to add to the effect. "Don't move." She commanded as she slinked away, zipping off before Kokonoe could even ask what she was planning. The door slowly dragged across the cheap and rugged carpet, before the timid snap of wood on wood punctuated Litchi's departure.
Following the command to the letter, Kokonoe awkwardly stood in place like a prisoner in line. She stared at herself in the mirror's glow, and her counterpart likewise did the same. Her expression seemed so bitter, her posture defeated and her eyes bagged with stress and worry. Would Ragna really be the type of person who'd abandon her?
Kokonoe fumbled for her pockets, trying to hide the tenseness of her form from her own eyes. He was a born drifter that would rarely stay in one place for too long. Maybe she'd served her use, and he'd moved on?
There were plenty of prettier girls around.
Plenty of nicer ones.
Plenty of better ones to pick.
The professor gritted her teeth, beating back that instinctive hatred that always tended to flare alongside her anxiety. What the hell had happened to her over the past year? Not long ago she was a bastion of defiance and self-sufficiency, yet now she stood facing a mirror waiting for a ditsy woman to play dress-up with her so she could try and win the heart of a god damned bloke. Should she have even bothered trying to settle down like she was part of a fourteen year-old's clichéd self-inserted romance fiction?
It wasn't until the combined racket of a slamming door and ragged breaths seized her senses that she noticed Litchi's return, what appeared to be an entire department store's supply of clothing laying draped over her forearm like a rainbow-coloured bulging growth. Regaining her composure she hauled the load onto the office's desk, almost sending the bubbling concoction that had once been a mug of marshmellow and sludge to the floor. Kokonoe flexed her shoulders and maintained her hands-in-pocket rebellious façade, wondering if Litchi was grinning or grimacing. "Damn, didn't think you'd bring your entire wardrobe here."
Litchi's overwhelming enthusiasm quickly welled as she turned her back on her boss, patting through all of the clothing loudly whilst humming a jolly little tune to herself like a big-breasted Mary Poppins. She shook her head in response to Kokonoe's comment, "These are just the bare essentials!" she noted, counting through each slither of fabric with a licked finger in employ. Litchi fell into a pout, hanging her head in defeat. "A pity I don't have more on hand…"
For the briefest of moments Kokonoe broke her self-imposed duty, curiously moving to glance over her shoulder at the goods that she had brought in. Through the myriad of colours and tones she spotted various exotic tassels and stylisations – the sort of things you'd expect on models at a catwalk show. Her cheeks felt rather warm to say the least, "… Y-You want me to try these?"
Litchi was quick to pick up on the grumpy woman's reddened flush and changing visage, smirking with cruel satisfaction as she plucked an outfit from the mess. "How about this?" she offered, pushing a red bundle into Kokonoe's chest which her hands quickly wrestled over before it fell. "How about it?"
She turned the fancy garment between her fingers, feeling the smooth and thin fabric with the pads of her fingertips. To call it soft or nice would be the understatement of a century – it seemed far much different to what she was used to wearing. Kokonoe held it by the shoulders and stretched outwards, unfolding the clothing to its full length. "… Isn't this a kimono?"
Litchi blinked. "Yes?"
Kokonoe scowled with scepticism, continuing to fumble with the foreign outfit regardless. She'd never worn something like it in the past – she was the sort of person who had seven copies of the same outfit sitting in her wardrobe for every day. "… Why in the hell would you ever need all of these?" she wondered aloud, noting the fit; they weren't Litchi's size, but rather a perfect fit for her. Litchi's unchanging expression became just a little bit more unsettling, gaining an almost psychotic quality to it. Kokonoe did her best to shroud her fascination – a field she appeared rather lacking in. "What is this, some sort of shoddy rom-com anime?" she continued to muttered negatively, trying to keep her composure. Rest assured, the gaze of her subordinate was about as convincing as a gun to the gonads. "… F-Fine, I'll try it on."
It took a discomforting amount of time to convince Litchi to leave the room so that she could get changed, who shuffled away in defeat and weakly closed the door in her wake. Her usual gear crumpled and discarded upon her desk chair, Kokonoe silently clothed herself in the gentle fabric that the kimono offered. It felt light and free – as if a literal and metaphorical weight had been lifted off her shoulders for just a mere moment of reprieve. The professor flexed her arms strangely, trying to adapt to the bagginess of the sleeves.
She could practically feel Litchi's ear against the door.
Just one more enigma on a beaten path.
"Y-You can come in." she stuttered, her own voice catching her off guard after such an extended period of silence. No doubt Litchi would spout compliment after compliment, but at least it was another person's opinion. Within moments of entry Litchi was tending to her chief's hair with obsessive passion, determined to make Kokonoe look and feel as good as she truly was.
Holding a hairpin in her mouth, Litchi eagerly fiddled and played with Kokonoe's head of hair as if it was an artist's canvas. "Let's just tie this up…" she murmured in concentration, occasionally sparing a glance at the mirror to spot the professor staring at the ensuing evolution of her appearance. She forced her back straight and stiff to prevent the garment bagging at the waist, looking just as uncomfortable as it felt. Regardless, she certainly thought it looked nice – if not a bit corny and traditional for her usual tastes. Litchi's reflection stared at hers upon the glass, an expression of ponderance filling her lip. "Too reserved." She eventually concluded after a chorus of "hmmm"'s, much to Kokonoe's disappointment. With one firm tug the hairpin exited the hive of her hair, letting the pink locks collapse across her face. "Not enough sex appeal."
Fording through the shroud of her messied hair, Kokonoe glared at the young woman behind cover. She still wasn't too fond of her wording; wasn't it weird for people to talk about sex like it was the daily visit to the corner shop? As Litchi spun away towards the pile to spear her next choice of wearing, Kokonoe begrudgingly threw her hair back into place – the façade of femininity that she'd had for that moment melting away as quickly as her appearance.
"Next!" Litchi announced, sending yet another bundle ahead as if tossing a curve ball at a lil' slugger. The next garment felt rougher and heavier as it was forced into her outspread palms – thick denim, and strong too. She smirked as the outfit jingled metallically in Kokonoe's hands, folding her arms to contain her ample bosom. "That's a lot more adventurous."
Holding out the clothes, the professor paused with judgement as she gazed upon the peculiar uniform. A significant portion of her mind was curious as to why in all of Kagutsuchi that Litchi had something like this within her cupboards, yet a somewhat larger section of her gruel-like brain didn't want to consider the fact. "Get out of here." Kokonoe growled as Litchi made no attempt to move, pointing at the door with a flappy kimono sleeve. "This isn't a show."
She reluctantly complied to her superior's demands, sulking through the door and leaving her to her own devices once more. Timidly the first outfit slipped away, leaving her pale flesh exposed to the chill of the lab's many offices. At the very least the next set of garments was a lot more modern - she doubted that she'd have any issues putting it on, or standing in it for that matter. A heavy weight jingled upon her belt as she readied the second set of gear for the day - they were fuzzy, she'd just noticed.
It was a police outfit.
A bloody police outfit, with pink tights and short-shorts.
Regular shorts would've been strange enough.
Her ears nestled snugly under a navy blue beret, a large and comical badge adorning it claiming that the wearer was "The Interrogator", Kokonoe awkwardly tilted it to a jaunty angle, absently suckling on a fresh lollipop to complete the effect. She never quite got why anyone would be turned on by a policewoman - you'd think that the very real risk of being arrested at any time would do wonders for the libido. The professor fumbled for the oversized belt that hung loosely across her overly slim waist, feeling for the fuzziness that covered those strange handcuffs.
The lady herself was once again summoned for her informed critique, no doubt having select the outfit out of a bout of wisdom. Litchi wandered in like a torturer at the chamber, circling the shorter woman as she stood entirely still at the room's sole mirror. Arriving at her back she stared at their combined reflection, fiddling with the angle of Kokonoe's hat much to her irritation. She scowled as the beret was sat at strange positions, only for Litchi to suddenly squish it down with the flat of her palm to cover Kokonoe's eyes. "Not you!" Litchi snickered mockingly, "Not you at all!"
Kokonoe growled in a way that sounded more like a girly sulk, her teeth clenching onto her well-suckled lolly as she clumsily readjusted the hat to its stylish position. She thought it looked quite cool in retrospect - although she wasn't the type of person who bought her own clothes or understood the world of fashion. "But I like this one…"
"You like short shorts?" Litchi concluded, hearing exactly what she wanted to hear from the pink-haired scientist before her. Testingly she tugged at the hem of the stylised shorts, purring in thought and intrigue as she straightened them out. Kokonoe raised one of her miniscule eyebrows curiously as she did so, wondering if there was some sort of unwritten law that she was infringing with her preferences.
She fidgeted on the spot, plucking the damp sweet from between her lips to speak clearly. "... They're easy and comfortable to wear?"
"Fascinating..." Litchi muttered with the genuine curiosity befitting of her qualifications, stubbornly pushing the blue beret back to her preferred position. Kokonoe grumbled in defiance as the woman skipped back to the pile, standing proudly with her legs apart and her arms folded as she stared at the mirror. All she needed was a colleague in the same pose to her side to make the perfect cover for a cheap porno novel. Litchi dove into the stack again amidst a declaration of progress. "Another!"
The jingle of bells and puffy padding signaled that the next victim had been chosen, as the professor's subordinate tore another outfit out of the snug safety of the stack. With a whip of the hand and an utterance of the phrase "et voila!", it was presented to her in its full glory upon a firm hanger. Kokonoe had to manually pull down her eyebrow to stop it launching off of her face and landing in the frozen mug of filth at her desk. "… Remember that anime comment?" she reminded, recognising the design to a moderate extent. "Because I sure do."
Litchi playfully held it infront of herself and posed seductively, kicking up a leg in such a corny manner that her hair may have well turned gold. "This one cost a lot you know!" she pointed out, gesturing at a tag on its sleeve deeming it "limited edition" and a "rare collectable", "From a very popular series infamous for its appeal to men!". She offered it to her as if it were a holy sceptre, bowing her head as she passed on the greatest weapon in her arsenal.
Kokonoe held it by its hanger sceptically, like a butcher examining his latest cut as it dripped all manner of giblets onto the floor. It felt surprisingly heavy in her hand - no doubt all the cutesy tassels and ribbons added up in their vast quantity. She shot a judging glare at Litchi, "... You mean the types of men with bushy beards and several chins?"
She frowned in distaste at her words, making for the door by her own will this once. "Give it a chance, please?" she begged, doing all that she could to will her chief on. It was evident that Litchi genuinely wanted this scheme of theirs - forty minutes in the making - to succeed for the better. She poked her head through the crack in the door before it gently snapped closed. "Everyone loves maids!"
Oh yes.
She would know, wouldn't she?
She sincerely hoped that it was freshly washed.
Kokonoe stared at the anime-esque maid outfit with the generic bitter expression that frequented her visage, pouring gallons and gallons of judgement upon the expensive garment as she spun the hanger between her fingers. She'd never quite understood the whole "mahou shoujo" fascination in culture - what was it that blokes found particularly enticing about magical maids that followed their every whim and could do pretty much anything and everything after a one minute stock animation?
Sort of answered your own question there.
Fiddling with the handcuffs upon her faux police belt, she considered giving the the black and white clothing a second chance – maybe it would look cute on her? It would certainly add a bit more shape to her otherwise genderless form; for once she wouldn't have to worry about the sharpness of her elbows causing grievous bodily harm to anyone in her proximity. Wouldn't Ragna eat something like that right up?
Did Ragna even like cute things?
Her tails flicked in discontent, emitting a jingle from the bells tied to their tips. "I'm gonna sound like Father Christmas coming down the damn road..." Kokonoe realised as she shook the maid outfit gently, letting its knee-length length sway to a halt. With a steady hand she tossed the oversized beret away, letting it lay crumpled amidst Litchi's pile. She fiddled with the first button of her shirt, "... I can't believe I'm doing this, but..."
The sort of things she would do for love.
Soon enough she stood nestled within the hot confines of the priceless outfit, shuffling around in the tight, brown, slip-on shoes that supposedly suited this outfit perfectly. She missed the freedom and comfort her sandals offered in an instant, and felt very warm inside the fluffy and bulky outfit - we're talking the misty eyed, dizzy mind, clumsy footed sort of "very warm" you wouldn't want to be suffering from in a laboratory setting. Kokonoe pressed her arms together in a fidget, the chest of the dress gathering to form a rather natural and round looking bulge. She did a doubletake - albeit a heat-exhausted one.
That was a plus at least.
Gone from a triple A to a double in one fell swoop.
Heeding a subtle summon Litchi shot into the room, hopping with bounding enthusiasm at the sight of the professor clad in the dress. "How does it feel?" she pressed joyously in an instant, lit up with enough happiness to power an entire hierarchical city through a harsh winter. To be perfectly honest, she hadn't expected someone as stubborn as Kokonoe to submit to her request. Her hands fell to their home away from home upon the chief's shoulders, willing her to face the mirror. "Come on, tell me!"
Bowing her head in shame, she inhaled and exhaled in a lame attempt to adjust to the heavy outfit over time. Her knees knocked together silently as she struggled to keep the straight form that the uniform naturally promoted, and her face glowed as the furnace that covered her body like a wooly oven mitt blasted on. "I-It feels really hot…"
Litchi chuckled, "Oh, you're just embarrassed is all." she stressed, squeezing her elbows reassuringly. Like mummy preparing her daughter for her first day at primary school she fiddled with the puffy shoulder-pads that the uniform presented - for someone with her frame, it made her look like a professional football player. "It makes you look so cute!"
Combining embarrassment with heat-induced fatigue surely did wonders for one's complexion, as Kokonoe shifted tones like a drunken chameleon and turned more pink that her hair. She stared at the supposedly "cute" reflection that stood before her – it looked incredibly dorky and felt very impractical, but it certainly bore a strange sense of self confidence with it– as if she had quite literally covered and hidden the cold exterior she usually showed to people and allowed an opening for a greater nature to surface and show its colours.
Well, whatever colour was left to show in that black hole of hers.
Innocently Kokonoe raised her delicate hands to fiddle with the bunched locks and bands of her hair, yet she was quickly thrown into confusion as Litchi yelled in protest. "Stop!" she squealed, shielding her face as if being overwhelmed by the shining light of the second coming. Her hand came to her heart, which she clutched in terror. "Please!"
"What's up?" she said to the reflection, pivoting on her heel like a clumsy ballerina - it was all she could do to turn without spending and ice-age wiggling her feet. Litchi's eyes were wide and bright, which generally wasn't the best of signs. "Seen a ghost?"
Her hand fell against the desk in submission, her pulse slowing as she rested. "Need a breather…" Litchi admitted, her eyes remaining fixed at her toes. It was just impossible to look at Kokonoe for an extensive period safely in this state – she looked too cutesy for her fragile heart to handle. Like an alcoholic fighting the urge to drink she gave the slightest of peeks. "... You're giving me a heart attack."
Overdoses of sugar and sweetness tended to do that.
Kokonoe growled angrily at her comment, putting her hands on the hips of her broad dress proudly - yet this only made Litchi fumble and gasp even more. 'twas a painful and unavoidable cycle; even when she was angry, the outfit just brought out everything that was cute about the professor and put emphasis on it. Kokonoe was about to fold her arms in withdrawal, but quickly stopped herself in order to prevent killing her. "T-This'll do." she decided, pivoting around and returning to her image in the mirror self-consciously. With genuine effort she tried to smile nicely like the poster girl of a summer trend magazine, but her lips quickly fell to a frown at how it looked - less cutesy, more maniacal. The floor creaked with movement, "… Hey?"
Like the routed survivor of a crushing defeat, Litchi began stumbling away from the professor - her mission complete for the moment. "G-Go get them tiger..." she announced as she left the room, pulling the door closed behind her. It was all up to Kokonoe from this point on; she could only hope that her "apprentice" could work the magic on her lonesome. She was still perfectly audible as she wandered off, "Dear me... I need a coffee!"
The chief turned back to the mirror one last time, her face looking as worried as her heart - if not threefold. This would be it then; All of her worries and fears, all the terror and restless nights, all of that had culminated into her standing in front of a mirror looking like a reject from a fancy dress party. Awkwardly she tried to curtsy her reflection, but it only took a moment of struggling to stand for her to give up on such a corny gesture. She needed to get back, practice and prepare; she had the instruments for her task, now all she needed was the will.
With new-found determination she began to shuffle towards the desk, the gloopy brown mug by her papers rocking and sloshing waves and tides as the room shook with effort. It took at least two minutes for her to cross the distance with her peculiar method of transportation, and while it was useful in generating enough static electricity to subdue a full-grown elephant she wasn't best pleased with how little breath she could muster by the end of it. She leant against the desk, wiping her brow of sweat.
She'd probably need to get changed first.
X
(A/N): Not too proud of how this turned out, but I'm only setting the scene for the actual main section of this story!
Surpised me how long this intro turned out to be. In case you were wondering, this story was supposed to be a single oneshot with this scene as well as the happenings of the next chapter happening in it... Rest assured, that didn't turn out well O_o
Well, let's just wait and see what happens in the future! (Knowing my luck, it'll probably turn out shorter :P)
Also, INDIRECT GOT AND POKEMON REFERENCES ARE VERY INDIRECT INDEED.
