Choukai was always the most difficult to figure out among her sisters. She wasn't as driven as Takao, as playful as Atago, or as aloof as Maya. Even compared to the others, she gave off the feeling that she was just being there, doing something but not doing much. Not the ones that drew attention, at least.

One would say she's "ordinary."

Or "unremarkable" if they were feeling cruel.

She's amiable, but not one to seek company often, or be sought by others. She's kind, but not overtly generous. Reliable, but not outstandingly so. Never speak much, but not quiet. Proper, but not prim. Never complained, always dutiful, but not zealous.

Always being there, but at the same time, not really. Just like her smile that, despite its apparent warmth, never quite reached her eyes and could have meant anything under the sky. Just like her serene gaze that revealed even less, like a still lake, depths unfathomable.

The Commander had always wondered if she harbored any secrets, grudges, dreams, or fears beneath the placid facade. Or if she even knew about them in the first place.

The most puzzling of them all, as it turned out, was not the most eccentric, nor the most unhinged, nor the most unpredictable, nor the most sorrowful, nor the most loving.

It was her all along.

And that was, for lack of a better word, worrying.

It might not be easy all the time, but knowing when someone's hurting or troubled or in need has always been a Commander's duty. That also entails lending an ear or a hand or a shoulder.

Some need it more than others; some others, less so. A select few, none at all—and would offer their own kind of support instead.

Now, which one is she?


"You want me to be the secretary, Commander?"

She was only mildly surprised. Not that this should be a world-shattering revelation, anyway.

"Yes. The backlogs of paperwork are growing, and now that there's a lull in the fighting, I could begin to sort them out. But I need help, and Hiei is going on leave. She recommended that you take the job. She spoke highly of you."

"Oh? Then I'd be honored to, Commander. I'll do my best."

It wasn't a tepid answer—the most lively she'd ever given, in fact—and that was refreshing. Perhaps the fact that Hiei's the only one other than her sisters with whom she had any meaningful connection had something to do with that.

Her lack of reservations over the appointment was a tad concerning, though. Whether that was confidence or resignation over an unavoidable obligation was anyone's guess.

The Commander hoped it was the former.

"Thank you, Choukai. You can start tomorrow."

"Yes, Commander. I'll try not to disappoint you. You can entrust any task to me."

And with a bow and without further word, she left. Unhurried as she would usually do, but with a certain spring to her gait, and the Commander thought she could be smiling all the way.

But for what?


"No, Commander, even I don't know."

Hiei was straightforward but empathetic in her reply. That was a few days ago, when they discussed secretary duties, and the matter of Choukai was brought up.

"But still, you recommended her."

"If there's one thing I know, Commander, is that Choukai is capable. Her loyalty is never in question. I trust her."

"...Is that all?"

Hiei sipped her tea.

"Yes, Commander, that is all."


The talk with Hiei only added to the pile of questions, but at least Choukai, as she had shown on the first day, was a quick learner.

She handled whatever was asked of her in a prompt manner—all the reports, lists, inventories, requests, emails, everything else in between. She made some mistakes, but nothing the Commander couldn't fix and none she would repeat.

They didn't talk much, but when they did, the Commander could pick up bits and pieces that once eluded observations. Like how her gaze seemed to soften at reports concerning her sisters, her ears perking up so slightly, or becoming more focused when it comes to equipment and logistics. The silent mumbling as she sorted through numbers and the hum whenever she glanced outside the window at the bird that made its home on the only tree visible from the office. Then, a fleeting sigh. It seemed more like contentment than anything else, but only she could tell. And tell she wouldn't.

Less subtle but no less peculiar was her reaction to being praised for a job well done.

A turn of her head, a blink, a blush, then a smile. Nothing demure nor coy nor sly nor coquettish.

So very normal, lasting only long enough to be noticed.

It was so very normal, and yet, it was alarming how it seemed that it was the first time someone had ever said that to her.

It was as if she remembered she wasn't supposed to smile like that.

And it was gone as the Commander pondered. She was still smiling, but not the same.

"Thank you, Commander. I'll work harder tomorrow."

The smile might not be the same, but the tone was, and it was a relief.

"I'll be counting on you, then. Because the way I see it, we're quite a team."

"If you say so, Commander."

The blush was just a touch more pronounced.

And the Commander could've sworn the way she left—the springy steps, in particular—was familiar.


Her greeting the following day was different, and she talked a little more, too. Not by much, but more.

She took the initiative to brew the morning coffee. She had a good sense of making coffee, it seemed. Her beans of choice, the way she measured and ground them before the brew, the precise amount of milk and sugar. All the right touches, down to how much the Commander would usually prefer in a cup.

An excellent start for an otherwise dull routine, and the Commander didn't think twice to let her know or to invite her to join.

She wasn't hesitating—not eager either—but seemed rather pleased about it.

"Then...can I do it again tomorrow, Commander? It's no bother to me, so don't worry about it."

"Well, I'm not going to say no to a fine coffee. And if you're not troubled by it, I'll gladly have you make it for us if you want."

She giggled, soft like a snowflake falling. A foreign sound to the Commander's ears, very much unlike her sisters' own.

"Then please look forward to it," she said and headed for her desk.

It seemed she worked a little harder that day.


The days went by, and the routine was mostly unchanged. Some coffee to start, a little chat about small matters, then the day's work.

That Choukai would be the one starting the conversation was the only change—and a much-welcome one, at that. She wasn't one for telling jokes but could appreciate one. She was observant of the ongoings but considerate of what she should bring up. She was open-minded about many things but wasn't particularly enthusiastic about anything.

And most important of all—the self that she began to slowly let out. Not too much, not too little, not too deep, and not too shallow. Whether it was deliberate or unconscious, it was hard to say, but the Commander wasn't about to complain.

"I don't know you're such a...tidy person, Choukai."

"Oh? I'm just dusting off some of the shelves and the desks, Commander. But yes, I suppose you can say I'm one."

And it wasn't a half-hearted job either. Careful and thorough.

"Still, you don't have to trouble yourself like that, Choukai. You've worked hard enough as it is."

She was still busy despite the reassurance, but it was definitely out of defiance.

"Commander, a tidy workplace eases the mind, you know? It helps you focus."

A sound argument, one that the Commander couldn't disagree with.

"If...you say so, then."

"Ah, and coffee will have to wait a bit if it's okay."

"No worries. Take your time."

"Thank you."

A curt nod and she kept at it.

The Commander later had to admit that Choukai was right. Ordered stacks and clean shelves did make for ordered thoughts and a clear head.

And that was probably how the idea came up, a notion that only now was beginning to make sense. The question came out so easily, as if it was always meant to be said.

"Choukai, if you have no plans after this, would you like to join me for dinner? It's my treat."

Choukai paused sorting through the files she'd finished working on, with abruptness that might seem comical had the situation allowed for it.

"A dinner, Commander?"

"Yes. You've been a great help these past few days, and I would like to show my gratitude."

"Ah, but I'm only doing what I've been told, Commander. If the others find out, they will start expecting the same treatment."

"And they will have to earn it, just like you did. Well, you're not obliged to say yes, though. It's not an order."

Choukai set the files down without looking, her brow creasing and her mouth slightly ajar. Yet the lips that soon curled up sparked hope.

"If you insist, Commander. But can I ask one thing?"

"Of course."

"Can I head back first? I'll see you at the place."

That and the tiniest glimpse of red on her face was curious, but the Commander obliged anyway.

"Sure. I'll give you the details later."

"Thank you, Commander. I'll be looking forward to it."

She looked over the files again, rose, and excused herself, a hasty and graceful exit. The door closed so gently behind her.

Only then did the Commander realize how empty the office felt.


The Commander soon found out why Choukai left early. It was a pleasant surprise. Too pleasant, in fact, that professionalism could've been thrown to the wind.

She didn't give the impression of someone who enjoyed dressing up, but she clearly put in an effort. Nothing too flashy or too plain. Just the right balance. Just like her.

She didn't ask, and she didn't need to.

"Oh...hi. You look...very nice, Choukai."

Tonight will not be the time to keep things professional, after all. Her smile was worth the breach of protocols.

"Thank you, Commander; I could say the same about you. Shall we?"

The hand the Commander offered was not refused. Her own was small, her neatly trimmed fingers dainty—the kind that one couldn't help wanting to hold for a long, long time.

But the restaurant was regrettably nearby.


It was all about good food and an even better companion. Conversations light and unassuming, topics broad and easy, moods cheerful and free. They were swept away, and that's even before the wine.

And when the bottle came, it only served to to accentuate the atmosphere.

Choukai didn't decline the drink, even though she didn't give off the impression of liking alcohol. Perhaps she only wanted to try new things instead of being polite, as the first sip was followed by another, then another, and the glass was soon empty.

"Oh, this isn't bad. Do you mind if I have another, Commander?"

"Sure, but don't overdo it."

"Understood, Commander."

The Commander poured her another, and that glass was again empty soon enough. But Choukai seemed to know her limits, for she didn't ask for a third. She was even more flushed now, like a rose in bloom, her smile was languid, and the Commander was feeling warm.

Emboldened, too, upon realizing that this moment was no longer about the job.

"Choukai, thank you."

Her titter was airy, a breeze.

"Oh, but whatever for, Commander?"

"For everything you've done."

"But that's just part of the job, Commander?"

"You know, I said 'everything,' not the secretary job."

She bowed her head, but only slightly, showing a glimpse of her smile that remained.

"I'm just happy to be of use, Commander. Thank you for the chance."

"Choukai, is that all there is?"

The smile faded a little.

"Hm? Why are you asking me this, Commander?"

Her tone was not defensive, not yet.

"Because...sorry if I'm being nosy...but you've been...puzzling me. What you could be thinking, your fears, your dreams. Everything."

The smile was gone.

"Commander, are you sure you want to trouble yourself with those?"

"Why would I bring that up if I don't?"

"Because you're the Commander?"

At first, maybe. The wine may cloud the mind and reason but free the heart.

"No. Just someone who's grown to care."

The smile returned, if only a touch.

"What if I say I don't have any?"

"That'd be a lie, and you know it."

She laughed at the response. Then her smile waned again. And then the gaze was cast aside.

"What would you want to hear, then, Commander?"

"Whatever you feel comfortable telling. No need to let it out all at once. If you don't want to, it's alright. But remember, Choukai. You don't need to be burdened by them all alone."

When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, as if it was self-talk.

"How could you be so kind? I've always wondered. I don't have much to give. Yet...you are. It's...like a dream."

"You are not dreaming; I can assure you that."

"Mm. That's a relief. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Her fingers, still holding onto the glass, were fidgeting.

"You see...Commander, I'm not really standing out. I don't want to be seen as overbearing or a troublemaker. I don't want to be a bother. So that's why I just go with the flow."

"Are you...lonely?"

"Oh? No, not at all. Everyone is here, safe and sound. Couldn't ask for more."

There was something she wasn't telling; the Commander could feel it. But patience is a virtue.

"I hope you're...happy, then. You deserve it."

It was no mere wish or hollow compliment and she must've realized it, affected by it. She had a hand on her chest as if her heart had skipped a beat.

"I'm happy just to be of use to you, Commander. That's why when you asked me, I thought that...finally..."

The hand on her chest moved to her mouth, covering it in haste.

The Commander knew better than to push, to send her reeling back to her shell, and waited.

"Shhh, don't need to tell me if you're not ready. Just follow your heart."

"My...heart?"

"Yes. It knows best, but only if you let it speak."

"You won't laugh or get mad?"

"On my life, never."

"Sorry, I know you won't."

The air didn't get any lighter, but at least she could breathe easier.

"...I'm happy that I could finally know that my admiration wasn't for nothing. Being by your side, without feeling I should fall to the wayside, seeing how many there are around you. That I...I have a chance."

She didn't elaborate, but putting two and two together was a simple affair.

Hiei must've known. Suddenly, her words were beginning to make sense.

Suddenly, what had been a routine became something much more.

Suddenly, prolonging this arrangement didn't seem so bad.

"And you will have it. As long as you want or need."

Sappy as it was, it was a promise born not from a mind fogged by alcohol or impulse. After all, the heart didn't lie.

And Choukai definitely understood the implications, but she had no qualms about it. Her posture relaxed, and she heaved a sigh.

"You know, Commander, I don't think I can handle any more surprises today. Please."

The Commander raised an eyebrow, and that made her laugh.

"One more, then. Let's do this more often. Because I need it too, turns out."

"I'd be hon—I would love to, Commander."

Her voice was ever so sweet when it wasn't tinged with sorrow or doubts, this time sending a rush of emotions the Commander had to fight hard not to act on.

Just a smile would do—and an invitation.

"Let's take a little stroll before we head back."

To know more, to learn, and to accept. To understand.

All these, and more.

Not even the day coming to a close would deter them. So many tomorrows await.

And with them, the answers revealing themselves little by little.

"I would love to, Commander."

That would be a good start.