Archive of Our Own

Anby rummaged through her closet, humming along to the faint beats of music playing from the headphones wrapped around her neck. It was only going to get chillier than it had been earlier, and she didn’t think her favorite skirt and thigh highs would suffice in fending off the growing cold.

She swayed her head from side to side, further matching the rhythms, her flow only faltering when she gave into a yawn or her stomach growled with a loud impatience. 

The day had been a grueling one. She had spent the entirety of it running through the Hollows, completing back to back commissions without so much as a minute’s break. Her body ached, nagging her for her recklessness, while the shadows of drowsiness slowly creeped down her eyes, and the void in her gut continued to cry out desperately for sustenance.

Anby stretched, her back cracking. She would've been in the living room by now, munching on a burger and watching movies, if not for the letter she had found taped outside her window upon returning home. It was from a certain someone she knew in the Defense Force, asking her if she’d like to meet today: a question Anby was more than happy to say yes to, though she did wonder how the sender had found out where she lived, she couldn't recall ever telling her.

After a few more songs, Anby finally settled on a pair of black sweats and a baggy dark green hoodie, giving her a look that was more or less indistinguishable from her usual attire. She grabbed her wallet and hamburger pin from the dresser, clipping the pin along a stray tuft of her silver hair before leaving her room.

She stepped deftly into the hallway, illuminated only by the dim light straying from the living room’s warm orange lamps and TV screen. She shifted over to her right, her fingers finding the walls as she strolled down. She tapped softly against it, following a tune of her own now.

As she rounded the end of the hall and stepped into the living room she saw Billy’s wild hair and Nicole’s pretty twintails peeking over the top of the couch, and though she was nowhere to be seen, she presumed Nekomata was on the couch as well, laying on her designated Nicole lap.

“There you are, Anby.” Nicole turned her head around, having heard Anby’s catchy little taps. “Do you wanna pick the movies tonight?” 

“Hey!” Billy snapped towards Nicole. “Tonight’s my turn to pick the movies!” 

“Billy, I don’t know how many more times I can rewatch The Starlight Knight, especially when you keep rewinding all the fights,” Nicole groaned.

“But those are some of the best parts!” Billy countered with wide, vibrant eyes. “Right, Anby?”

“I like the fights,” Anby agreed. “There's always a bright, indomitable hope to them even when things are dire, and the action is really good.”

“Exactly!” Billy cheered like some crazed child. “See, Nicole? Anby gets it.”

Nicole rolled her eyes, her lips curving into a grin. “Anby, I know you’ll watch anything, but you’re supposed to help me out.” 

“I know, sorry, Nicole. But actually I was going to ask if I could skip movie night tonight, I have to head out.”

Nicole raised a brow at Anby’s request. “Head out… on movie night...?” She trailed in a pensive bewilderment.

“Yup,” Anby replied, tone flat and blunt as ever.

“And you’re fine?” Nicole looked her up and down. “No problems? You’re all good?”

“Yup,” Anby repeated. 

“She’s lying!” Nekomata suddenly screeched, leaping from Nicole’s lap and into view. “Everyone quiet and listen!” she ordered, her fluffy ears twitching incessantly.

The living room fell dead silent, like most movie theaters did the moment the previews stopped rolling.

And then Anby’s stomach growled, once, then twice, and then a third time. Only the third was much less a growl and more so the roar of a vicious, depraved beast.

“See!” Nekomata pointed at the green headphone girl with a sharp claw. “She. Hasn’t. Eaten!”

“Anby hasn’t eaten? But that shouldn’t be possible!” Billy shouted, completely aghast. 

“Anby,” Nicole said in a deep, clearly irritated tone. “How exactly did you spend your day off?”

“I was… out.” 

Nicole’s pretty jade eyes narrowed into sharp slits. “How many commissions did you run?” 

“Just a few.” Anby sheepishly looked away, suddenly very interested in the strange design choice of their apartment’s chain link ceiling.

“Can you count them on your fingers?” 

“Yes,” Anby said meekly, still fixated on the ceiling.

“Show me then.”

Anby slowly raised her hands, wiggling all ten of her digits.

“And here I thought you got home late because you were at the theater all day,” Nicole sighed, bringing a hand to her face and squeezing the bridge of her nose. “You are just something else, and you’re still a terrible liar. Alright, let's fix something up for that angry tummy of yours.”

“Uh, about that,” Billy nervously chimed in. “We’re kinda out of food, heh.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his head.”

“What about the groceries I told you to pick up while Nekomata and I were working?” Nicole glared metal-searing knives straight into Billy’s faceplate.

“I uh, might have gotten just a teeny bit sidetracked.”

“Doing what?”

“Belle may have challenged me to a few games over at Godfinger.”

Nicole blinked in disbelief. "And you didn't think to just get them after you were done?"

“I kinda forgot. Sorry, Boss,” Billy slumped into the couch. “Sorry, Anby.”

“It’s okay, Billy,” Anby said. “I’ll stop by the grocery store on the way back if Nicole lets me go.”

“And where exactly is it that you're going?” Nicole questioned.

“I got a letter from someone, they want to meet at the park a few blocks from Sixth Street.”

“Oh, I love that park, the grass is so niiice.” Purred Nekomata, plopping her head atop the couch’s soft backrest.

“Me too,” said Billy. “I always forget the name though.”

“I don’t think it has a name,” added Anby.

“Never mind the name. Do I know this, ‘someone’, Anby?” Nicole prodded further, tilting ever so slightly forward towards her.

“Not well, but you’ve met her briefly before. Her name is Trigger.”

“That blonde defense force lady with the badass sniper rifle and jet-black mask?" Asked Billy. 

“Yeah.”

Nicole frowned. “Why does she want to see you? Is something wrong? You better not be leaving us again.” She scolded.

“I’ll never leave you, not again,” Anby reassured her. “And I don’t think anything is wrong, she would have said so.”

“Hmph, Good.” Nicole mumbled, unable to suppress the smile that came from the first half of Anby’s response.

“So I can go?”

“I suppose you could,” Nicole said somewhat begrudgingly. “But you have to tell me what makes this lady so important that you’d miss movie night with us.”

“She’s just a very kind person,” Anby said quietly, the slightest of smiles sprouting along her lips. “Like all of you.”

“Ah man, Anby. You can’t just pull on my heart’s wiring outta nowhere like that!” Billy exclaimed, squeezing his chest dramatically.

“Yeah, Anby!” cried Nekomata. “Since when did you get so sweet?” 

“I was just telling the truth. Sorry.”

“No, by all means keep praising us.” Nicole half jested, her smile growing wider.

“I will, once I get back. I promise.”

“That’s my girl.” Nicole reached forward, pulling Anby into a brief embrace. “Don’t be out too late now, alright?” she whispered in her ear.

Anby nodded against Nicole’s soft pink curls. “I won't.” 

Satisfied, Nicole released her, and settled herself back onto the couch. 

“Guess we’re watching Starlight Knight again.” Nicole said, turning to Billy who already had the remote in his mechanical hands.

“Don’t worry, boss!” said Billy. “No rewinding any fight scenes tonight! Only the key character scenes! That way Anby should be back by the time the movie ends, and she can pick a movie to watch.”

“Well isn’t that thoughtful of you. You hear that, Anby?”

“Mm. Thank you, Billy.” Anby, glanced at the old clock on the wall. “I better go before the store closes. Be safe everyone,” she said, zipping out the front door.

The evening air had grown a fair bit chillier than Anby had anticipated. It rustled her hair and nicked at her ears as she strolled down the silent streets. Her fingers found the soft folds of her hood, tugging at them as she pulled it over her head. 

She glanced up at the night sky, her vibrant green and orange eyes meeting its deep dark tapestry embroidered with weak starlight and rolling grey clouds. The moon was not out tonight, and the absence of its ominous corrupted half gave the deep sea above a sense of purity that felt unnatural. And as Anby walked amidst the towering buildings of the city which concealed the hollows beyond from view, she almost felt like she didn't live in a world fractured by disaster and calamity.

With that thought brimming in her mind Anby began to imagine then, a life without the impending doom that the Hollows and their endless legions of ethereals sought to deliver. 

She wouldn’t have to dive into them anymore, no more fighting monsters, human and ethereal alike. She could live a life like the ones seen in movies, the ones that told stories of a time before the Hollows, and in some hopeful cases, even after. She could go to college, study the culinary or musical arts, get an underpaying part time job, try and make more friends, watch the sun lower itself into the horizon while she rode the train, cry over homework loads and soul-reaping exams. 

Anby's usually cool and stoic face relaxed. It’d be a nice life. Nicole would be there, Billy, and Nekomata too. All of her sisters as well, walking their own paths, chasing their own wishes. They could get together every month or so and exchange stories, share laughs and meals. They’d have to find a restaurant that could seat all of them of course, and it would need to have a menu with all their favorite foods, everyone would also have to first figure out what their favorite food was; but that would be fun too.

Anby almost smiled; her fantasy was so whimsical, so full of light, and frankly, quite silly.

Perhaps even a little ridiculous.

Quite ridiculous.

Utterly ridiculous.

Anby’s briefly softened features stiffened again as the blank stare that she so often wore returned to mask her face. 

Her fantasy was just that: a fantasy, she reminded herself. If not for the Hollows, she nor her sisters would have even been created. That perfect movie life would have existed, yes. But what would it matter, if they didn’t have the lives to live it?

She gripped the headphones wrapped around her neck tightly, fighting against her hood to secure it atop her head, far too stubborn to simply pull it down. Then she pulled her phone from her pocket, just enough so that she could unlock the screen and start up her playlist. 

The first song started up: a movie soundtrack that was upbeat and sunny as a clear sky, and Anby forced herself to start swaying her head. She started humming to the beat as best she could, but couldn't seem to match it. 

Slightly frustrated, Anby turned then, to the myriad of little shops that lined the right edge of the sidewalk. She looked into her own dim reflection as it followed her through the unlit windows. The face it wore was unsettling, cold and empty, like she was staring into something soulless. The girl picked up her pace, her reflection matching it. She moved faster still, until the music disappeared behind her, and the reflection shed its fierce features, blurring into a sharp blade of silver light, soaring effortlessly amidst the lonely bleak of the shadows. 

Anby’s brow furrowed fiercely at the sight. She didn’t like it. In fact she hated it, how the light seemed to belong there, alone in the depths. So Anby ran faster, urging the light to rise from the deep, urging it to escape the hatred. The streak of silver burned brighter and brighter as Anby ran faster and faster, her silver hair galvanizing a vibrant electric blue.

And then she slammed headfirst into a lamppost.

Thunder sounded in her ears, a shockwave of pain shooting through her body, once from the initial impact and again as she tumbled to the cold hard street.

She didn’t move, not because she was in absolutely unbearable pain—she’d been through much, much worse—but because she simply wanted to. For some reason or another, the ground, though frigid, had a certain quality to it which had helped clear her head. That, or she had inflicted some serious neurological damage to herself.

Whatever the reason was, Anby didn’t really care at the moment. She was somewhat at peace again and very much didn’t want to leave it. So she shut her eyes, wanting to enjoy the silence for a little while before getting back up.

Then she heard the sound of rushing footsteps.

“Anby!” A familiar voice suddenly cried out from beyond her closed eyes. “Hold on, I’ve got you.”

The voice in Anby’s ears sounded sweet despite the worry in its tone. She felt a strong hand grasp her shoulder, and another press gently against her back, propping her up.

Anby opened her eyes, greeted immediately by the sleek black of Trigger’s visor, the pair of lights that adorned it were pulsing a rich scarlet, which perfectly complimented the sharp frown curled on her lips. She was wearing a cozy black and yellow jacket, along with her usual combat pants and boots, and her long, golden stream of a ponytail had been bundled up into a big poofy bun with that strange metal scrunchie of hers.

“Anby? You okay?” Trigger spoke again.

“I’m alright. Thank you for your concern, Trigger,” Anby said. “Oh, and hello,” she greeted, wriggling in Trigger’s grasp as she tried to get back on her feet.

Trigger stopped her however, her deft hands gripping her tighter.

“Hi. Are you sure?” she asked apprehensively. “Someone with an awareness as honed as yours shouldn’t have just slammed into that lamppost.”

“Oh,” Anby looked away in embarrassment. “You saw that?”

Trigger nodded. “From the rooftop,” she motioned her head to a building adjacent to them. “I actually saw you when you first started running, I thought you were going to use it to vault over to me.”

“Oh,” Anby said again. “I thought you wanted to meet at the park.”

“We are at the park,” Trigger confirmed, motioning her head once more, this time right across the street.

Anby turned, finding that she was indeed just a few steps away from the edge of the park.

“Oh…” she said a third time. “Do you want to sit somewhere?” She proposed.

Trigger’s visor flickered once, imitating a blink. “I do. But I want to verify that you're alright first,” she said sternly, removing her hand from Anby's shoulder and placing the back of it to her forehead. 

“Your temperature is normal enough, just a teeny bit chilly, so that's a relief,” she sighed, pulling her hand away. “But you’re so tense, and something feels…sounds really off… around your… ” Trigger fell silent, hearing a horrible growl from Anby’s stomach.

“Anby,” Trigger gasped, her voice now ripe with distraught. “You’re famished. Why haven't you eaten? What's wrong?”

“I’m okay.” Anby said placidly. “I was just busy in the Hollows today.”

“With Belle and Wise?” 

“No. I was just taking as many jobs as I could.” Anby admitted, not having the heart nor cunning to attempt to lie anymore that night, not that it would have been effective on Trigger anyway.

“You really went into the Hollows for that long without them to guide you?” 

“Most of the commissions I took provided carrots.”

“What do you mean by ‘most’?”

“For one of them I had to chase a couple's cat.”

The intensity of Trigger's lights dimmed. “A couple’s cat?”

“Yeah. They were really happy when I found her, they called me an angel and gave me a hug.” 

Trigger smiled slightly. “What a nice thing to say.”

“Mm,” Anby mumbled, “I don't think it's very fitting.”

“I'm going to have to disagree with that, how couldn’t a cat savior be an angel?” Trigger instantly returned, leaving Anby with very little to respond with.

“Well, you seem okay. So let's go find that place to sit.” Trigger suggested, her hands quickly finding Anby’s. She pulled the shorter girl off the ground effortlessly, leading her across the street.

As the two walked hand in hand through the park, Anby found herself drawn to the feeling of Trigger’s hands in her own. They were tired hands, rough and long calloused from years of ceaseless combat and the brutish recoil from her sniper rifle. But despite that worn roughness, they were also incredibly warm, so warm in fact that they somehow managed to feel soft and soothing.

Was the kindness in her heart so great it spread out to her hands, or was it just really cold and any warmth felt nice? Anby pondered, not realizing that she had started squeezing the hand she held.

“Is something wrong, Anby?” Trigger tilted her head slightly down, her visor turning pink for just a moment.

Anby shook her head. “Sorry, I got lost in thought. I know how tuned your senses are, it won’t happen again.”

“N-no, no! It didn’t bother me,” Trigger stammered, that pink glow returning. “I was just worried that you felt bad. You can squeeze my hand as much as you’d like.”

“I can?” Anby asked with an innocent curiosity, her gentle little voice like honey in Trigger’s ears.

“Of course you can, It’ll never bother me, no matter what,” Trigger said confidently.

“So I don’t have to feel bad to squeeze your hand?” Anby unknowingly poked at Trigger’s unintended implication.

“Y-you’d want to hold my hand outside of situations like these?”

“They feel really nice in mine.” Anby said simply.

Trigger felt her cheeks burn, her mind searching for an appropriate response. Then she remembered why she was holding Anby’s hand in the first place.

“Oh gosh,” Trigger gasped, releasing Anby’s hand as she produced something from a small pouch at her belt. “Here, sit here.” She settled Anby down on a bench just beside them. “You can nibble on this while I make you something,” she said, handing Anby a wrapped red bean bun.

“You’re gonna make me something?” Anby questioned as she unwrapped the pastry, immediately finding that its own softness was no substitute for Trigger’s.

“Yes, I brought ingredients to make some burgers, they’re inside a cooler on the rooftop. Let me go grab them.” 

“Burgers?” Anby’s eyes sparkled.

“They’re your favorite aren’t they?”

“They are, but you didn’t have to trouble yourself.”

“There’s no trouble in doing something that’ll make you happy.” Trigger smiled. 

“Oh… thank you,” Anby said quietly.

“Anytime. Give me a quick second to grab the cooler, I won't be long.” Trigger turned to leave.

Anby gave the sniper a little wave goodbye then brought the bean bun to her lips, her stomach demanding the largest bite she could possibly muster as its sweet aroma filled her nose. But as she opened her mouth wide, Trigger suddenly drove her foot into the ground, pivoting back around in the blink of an eye.

“I said 'nibble', Anby. I don’t want your stomach getting more upset than it already is,” she ordered, her visor a bright orange.

“Yes, Captain Trigger.” Anby allowed herself a light tease, taking a tiny bite from the bean bun. 

Trigger chuckled sweetly at her comment. “How is it?”

Anby swallowed, then sniffed as if she were going to sob. “Really good,” she whispered, taking another small bite.

“Good.” Trigger’s grin grew wider. “I’ll be right back.” She broke into a sprint, the sound of her footsteps disappearing beneath the breeze.

Anby watched as Trigger’s tall figure blurred into the shifting shades of the night, crossing the entire span of the park and scaling her lookout perch in what couldn’t have been more than ten seconds.

When Trigger reappeared over the building’s parapet Anby could make out the outline of what seemed to be a large backpack slung across her shoulder, along with the cooler in one of her hands. Despite the extra load, Trigger still somehow managed to effortlessly slide back down to the ground without even the slightest of hindrances to her movement.

“You're very graceful,” Anby told Trigger as she strode back over to her. “Like the wind.”

“Oh please, Anby.” Trigger blushed, the girl's words getting to her yet again. “I’m not that fast.” 

“But you are, I just saw you,” Anby countered, nibbling on her bean bun. “You must’ve worked incredibly hard to get where you are.”

“Not harder than anyone else.”

“Now you’re being very humble, like some of my favorite movie protagonists.”

“Your favorites?” Trigger walked past the bench. She set the cooler down on the grass and then pulled a blanket out of the backpack, stretching it out beside it.

Anby spun around, laying an arm on the bench’s backrest. 

“Yes, I have a list. But they all share traits: kind, intelligent, strong, determined, and modest. All the traits people can look up to.”

“I really don’t know if I’m all those things, Anby. I just—”

“You're both pretty and handsome as well,” Anby added as she finished the first half of her bean bun.

Trigger’s visor flashed an obscenely bright pink. Her lips quivered, but no words left her. Anby’s barrage of vocal sweetness had left her speechless and completely flummoxed.

“Are you okay, Trigger?” Anby asked when she went too long without saying anything.

Trigger remained quiet, feeling guilty for not immediately answering her. She just needed to focus on something for a few moments to regain her composure. She took a small portable grill out of the backpack and set it on the blanket along with some paper plates and a bag of buns. Then she reached for the cooler, grabbing some wrapped patties and a few plastic containers packed with cheese, lettuce and tomatoes.

“Trigger?” Anby repeated, sounding slightly worried now.

“Sorry. I’m okay, I was just focused.” Trigger managed to turn back to Anby. “What are you still doing on that bench?” She asked as she got all the ingredients ready.

“I'm waiting to see if you’ll invite me.”

Trigger tilted her head. “You’re waiting?”

“Yes. What if it's a picnic for one? I don’t want to intrude.”

“Anby, how else are we going to eat together?” Trigger laughed, the lingering heat on her face quelling with its sound.

“By telling me I could sit with you.” 

“Anby.”

“Yes, Trigger?”

“Come and sit with me. Right here.” Trigger patted the spot next to her.

“Ok.” Anby hopped over the bench, plopping herself down on the blanket.

“See, that’s better.”

“Yeah, it is…”

A comfortable silence fell between the pair, filled only by the sound of Anby’s tiny nibbles, the crackling flame of the grill, the surrounding trees rustling softly in the wind, and the occasional rumbles of cars as they rolled down the vacant streets.

Anby looked up to the sky, her mind wandering. She watched the light of distant planes dance with that of the stars, wondering what the world would look like, what people would look like, from all the way up there beyond the sky.

In her stargazing Anby recalled a cheesy, yet moving quote from one of her top fifty films: of how a person’s soul was light. It could be a brilliant blend of colors, or it could be monochrome. It could change, transform, or stay constant. But regardless of the light’s hue and the way it reacted to the world around it, it would always shine nonetheless, stretching out forever and ever for all to see.

With that in mind, Anby brought herself back down to Earth, to the woman at her side.

How bright would Trigger look from up there? She thought to herself. What about Nicole? Billy and Nekomata? The proxies?

What about her sisters?

Twiggy?

Harin?

Herself?

And what colors would they all be? She pondered, still staring intently at Trigger and her sun-swept locks.

Trigger was kind to say the utmost least. The type of kindness that made you feel light as a feather and the wind was sweeping you up into its arms, carrying you off into a brighter place. She was strong and determined as the sun and its marvelous rays. And she was trustworthy, pure, like a bright blue sky. 

As Anby continued in her efforts to find the perfect word to define her friend, Trigger was having some thoughts of her own regarding the pair of eyes currently staring her down. Anby’s eyes were carving into her unlike any look, glare, or stare she’d ever felt before, dissecting her effortlessly with the same precise sharpness as the twin blades she had once seen her wield.

But why? What was the reason? She couldn't detect any ill will or malice, so Anby wasn't angry. She didn’t seem the impatient kind, so she doubted she was taking too long on the burgers. Trigger racked her mind for any other plausible possibility, and then her thoughts landed on what Anby had said just minutes ago.

Trigger steadied her breathing, not quite wanting to be an incoherent mess again, even if she could recover quickly from it. Then, she dared to ask herself: was it possible that Anby was looking at her because she found her… attractive? 

Trigger reached for the spatula inside her backpack, then she carefully flipped the patties, topping them with cheese. It was a nice thought she admitted to herself, her cheeks starting to feel warm again, though she was unsure of what to do if it proved to be true. Should she return the gesture though she didn’t know exactly what Anby looked like? Did it even matter what she looked like? Should they hold hands again? Or was she supposed to just let it be?

Trigger sighed, regretting not taking up Styx’s offers on romance lessons, then she froze.

Romance. 

Was that what it was? Was it really? Surely Anby wasn’t flirting with her, right? The possibility blazed like an inferno in her mind. It was an utterly exhilarating sensation, yet disgustingly unbearable in the strangest, most grueling way possible.

So Trigger spun around, immediately detesting the obscurity that tortured her—for she cared little for it—and decided to confront Anby directly on the matter.

“Anby,” Trigger began, gathering herself. “Could I ask you something?”

“Mhm,” Anby mumbled in response, what remained of her bean bun caught between her teeth and dangling precariously from her mouth.

“I… why are you eating it like that?” Trigger’s emotionally charged tone spiraled into one of pure curiosity.

Anby fully bit down, catching the bean bun in her hands as it fell from her mouth. 

“It’s fun. You should try it,” she said lightheartedly, offering Trigger the last remaining bit of the bun.

“Oh… okay.” Trigger very awkwardly agreed, not one to ever turn down the delicacy that was a red bean bun. “Thank you.” She smiled, leaning forward, while her brain still tried desperately to make sense of all the emotions Anby had subjected her to over the short amount of time they had spent together. And as the distance between them closed further, Trigger’s keen sense of smell caught a sweet whiff of pastry still lingering on Anby’s cheek.

“Here, Anby. You’ve got a little something.” Trigger instinctively cupped Anby’s chin, wiping the crumbs off the girl’s cheek with her thumb, but even after they were all gone Trigger’s hand remained on her face. 

The strong and resolute eye of Obol Squad found herself completely and helplessly entranced by the feeling of Anby’s cheek. She glided her hand along it without thinking, wanting to capture more of what Anby looked like. She took in every last little detail, her lips parting slightly in utter awe at how soft she was; she felt like peach fuzz, but somehow even softer, like a giant, fluffy cloud. And there was something beyond that heavenly softness: a sound, no, a pulse, a heartbeat of the gentlest electricity she’d ever felt.

“Trigger...” She heard Anby whisper. Her sweet, bean bun scented breath tickled her face and sent a wave of shivers down her spine. It was only then that Trigger became fully aware of what she was doing.

“I-I'm so sorry, Anby. I don't know what came over me!” Trigger’s visor burned scarlet, her voice riddled with guilt as she jerked her hand away. 

But then Anby stopped her, her own hand shooting up to pull Trigger’s back in place.

Trigger shuddered.

“You’re like a Spring day.” Anby told her, satisfaction on her lips, raw admiration brimming from her eyes.

“A…spring day?” Trigger nearly choked as the feelings pouring from Anby struck her like a pair of lightning bolts.

“I was thinking about what color you reminded me of.”

“C-color?” Trigger stammered, confused and far beyond flustered by the statement, “Do I… really remind you of something so nice?”

Anby closed her eyes.

“Yeah. Right down to the warmth.” She breathed, caressing Trigger’s hand.

“You have a really good way with words, Anby.” Trigger swallowed.

“I just said what I think.”

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t good with them.” Trigger smiled goofily from one end of her visor to the other while a new scent of freshly cooked patties began to waft along her nose.

“S-seems like they’re done.” 

“They smell delicious.” Anby just about melted.

“I thought burgers didn’t have a smell.” Trigger somehow managed to tease.

“They don’t,” Anby confirmed. “Yours must be really special.”

“Oh please,” Trigger shook her head. “I guess I should go get them off the grill now.”

“Mhm.” Anby nodded, her eyes still shut tight.

But neither Trigger nor Anby moved away from each other, for neither wanted to separate from the sensation that they had discovered together. It was such an inexplicably comforting feeling. A wordless unity that seemed to promise only more if it were kept alive. 

It was something pure and intimate.

Something divine as wind and lightning themselves.

Until Anby’s stomach growled that is.

Upon hearing its desperate, gut-wrenching plea, Trigger finally, reluctantly, found the strength to pry herself away. She felt her heart waver as the anomalous bliss that was Anby slipped through her fingers. But she remained focused, for Anby’s wellbeing took precedence over all else, no matter how strangely powerful the desire to share contact with her was.

Trigger scooted over to the grill, her breathing finally steadying. She grabbed a plate in one hand, swiping a toasted bun off the grill with the other and placed it atop it. Then she reached for the spatula, and in a blur of rapid, nigh incomprehensible movements, she assembled the first burger.

She raised the burger to her face, studying the integrity of her work. She squeezed the buns softly, listening carefully to their soft yet beautifully crisp crunch. Then she sniffed it, deducing from smell alone that the patty had been cooked to nigh perfection with the cheese atop it a pool of delicious molten gold. And though she already knew the veggies she purchased were of the highest quality, Trigger checked on them as well anyway, just to be sure.

Trigger nodded to herself as her analysis concluded, confident she had made something that was at the very least decent enough for Anby’s tastebuds.

“Here you go, Anby.” She presented her the burger, which she graciously took from Trigger's hands in exchange for the remaining half of the bean bun.

“Oh, thank you,” Trigger said, having completely forgotten about the pastry. “And here, you need to stay hydrated." She pulled a bottle of water out of the cooler. “And remember, slow bites,” she warned, setting it beside Anby.

“I’ll try.” Anby replied, hands subtly shaking in anticipation as she took her first bite.

The sound of Anby’s soft chewing filled Trigger’s ears as she downed the bean bun and tended to the remaining patties. It was a strangely delightful sound, slow and carefully attentive, as if Anby was analyzing every last little ounce of flavor before swallowing.

“Trigger.” Anby’s sweet voice soon followed. 

“Yes?”

“The burger, it's absolutely delicious.” She gleamed, taking another bite.

“Are you sure? It’s not my best work, I didn’t even cook in a proper kitchen. I’m sure I could make you a better one.”

“You probably shouldn’t make me a better one than this. It would most likely kill me.” Anby said placidly.

Trigger lightly snorted. “I don’t think I’d be able to make something that good, even in a kitchen, I’m no master chef.” 

“You could be, maybe you’re one of those protagonists with a double life. A sniper by daybreak, a chef by nightfall.”

Trigger laughed, shaking her head. “Even if that were somehow true, my skills can’t take all the credit, the ingredients played the biggest part, I got them right when the grocery store opened.”

“You went that early?”

“For the veggies anyway, I made the patties last night at the outpost's cafeteria. And I made sure to keep the cooler at the perfect temperature so everything would be as fresh as possible while I was waiting for you.”

Anby raised a snow-colored brow. “How long have you been waiting for me?”

“Since I left the store.” Trigger said nonchalantly.

Anby's brow furrowed. “What if I didn’t show up?”

“I had a feeling you would at some point,” Trigger said shyly, taking a burger for herself.

Anby took a slightly bigger bite out of her own burger, her eyes gliding over the stillness of the park.

“That rooftop, did you pick it as your waiting spot so you could watch over everyone here?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Hm… Do you like kids?”

“Not really,” Trigger said firmly, though the lights of her visor said otherwise. “They’re unpredictable, and noisy, makes it hard to focus.”

“Mm,” Anby mumbled, not at all convinced. She turned her head towards the large play structure at the park’s center and pictured what it would sound like if the sky above them were bright with blue and gold rather than light polluted darkness and fleeting droplets of silver.

“I like when they laugh,” Anby said.

“Do you?” Trigger leaned slightly forward, intrigued. 

“Yeah. My friend Nicole says that there’s no sweeter sound. That a single moment of it is worth all the dennies in the world.”

“Nicole,” Trigger whispered the name. “I met her briefly didn’t I? In the video store with your other companions, Billy and Nekomata. Nicole had a strong, slightly brash voice if I recall correctly.”

“Yeah, that’s her.” Anby said endearingly. 

“She must have a pretty big heart to say something like that.”

“She does, big and gold.”

“Do you agree with her? About kids?” Trigger prodded, curiosity getting the best of her.

“I do. Seeing them be happy makes me feel good here,” Anby placed a hand over her chest. “Seeing anyone really, so long as they aren’t supervillains.”

Trigger smiled. “Is that why you took so many commissions today? To help people?”

Anby stared at the last bit of burger in her hands. She looked back on the day, remembering the smiles she’d been gifted after each commission, every kind word, every little gesture, and how nice they had each made her feel.

“Yeah.” Anby quietly confirmed. “But not just the clients. It was to help Nicole and the rest of the Cunning Hares too.”

“You guys aren’t in any financial trouble are you?”

“we’re… managing. I just wanted to get a bit of spare money to get them some nice things.”

Trigger crossed her arms, eying her.

“Okay, not just nice things, sometimes we do fall a little behind on bills.” Anby cracked. “Nicole isn’t the most… responsible with our money, and she can be a little too generous for her own good.”

“How so?”

Anby’s eyes darted around, surveying the area. “Promise to keep it a secret, for her reputation’s sake?”

“Of course, you have my word.” Trigger promised without a moment's hesitation.

“She’s kind of gullible when it comes to people selling ‘valuables’, the ‘fall for the denny dangling from a fishing line’ gullible. Belle told me that she once tried selling her a valuable piece of artwork that she won in an auction, but it turns out it was just a stock photo ripped from a picture frame.”

“You’re kidding,” Trigger tried not to laugh. “How much did she buy it for?”

“Eight-hundred and eighty-eight dennies.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad… what about her selling price?”

“Eight-thousand eight-hundred and eighty-eight.”

“What...?”

“Yeaaah. She’s a little opportunistic.”

“You don’t say,” Trigger shook her head in disbelief. “How does her generosity come into play?”

 “Oh, right. We take about ninety percent of our earnings and split it to each of New Eridu’s orphanages.”

“Every single one?” Trigger awed. “How much do you all work to even do that? I’m assuming you don’t send small amounts of money.”

“We just take any job we can. Usually we make about fifty-thousand dennies a month, sometimes a bit more. There was this one time though when we made a hundred-fifty thousand in just a week. My back still hurts just thinking about it.”

“It does? Where exactly? I could give you a massage.” 

“I-I was just kidding,” Anby stammered. “I heal pretty fast.”

“Oh… right.” Trigger nervously played with one of her bangs.

“What about you? Have you and the rest of Obol Squad been busy?” Anby asked, taking a sip of her water before grabbing a second burger from the plate.

“A tad. We’ve had a lot of deployments: rescue missions, guarding the Shiyu pillars, high priority Ethereal hunts.

“That sounds like dangerous work. I hope you've all been safe.”

“We have, we’re pretty good at having each other's backs,” Trigger said proudly.

“I had a feeling. I just wanted to be sure,” said Anby, her thoughts shifting. “How’s Ha—Soldier 11 doing?” 

“Anby you don’t have to correct yourself,” Trigger sighed. “She’s been doing great. She’s been just a tiny bit less intense when it comes to protocol, and recently she’s actually been a bit more lax with our other squad members: Seed and Orphie, and even our captain, Magus.”

“Even with a captain?” Anby lit up. “What is she like?”

“Strict, strong willed, incredibly skilled at nagging, and has a fierce heart of raging fire. But she cares deeply for us, always keeping our needs in mind and tending to them directly or indirectly.” Trigger began to chuckle. “Sometimes it feels like we’re all her daughters rather than her soldiers.”

“She sounds like a mother, and a little like Nicole,” said Anby.

“You see Nicole as your mother?” 

Anby bobbed her head side to side through a mouthful of burger. “A little bit I guess. She gave me everything I could've ever needed: a warm bed, tasty food, care, respect, a last name. She gave me so much even though she didn’t know who or what I was when she found me.”

“Hm,” Trigger hummed, her visor glowing a joyful yellow. “That reminds me, I need to thank her next time I see her.”

Anby tilted her head, a piece of lettuce peeking out of her mouth. “What for?”

“For finding you of course, otherwise I wouldn't have ever had the pleasure of meeting you.” 

Anby swallowed, her heart fluttering briefly for a reason she couldn't quite identify.

“What are your squadmates like? Seed and Orphie.” She changed the subject.

“How can I say this simply?” Trigger gushed, “Orphie is an absolute gem. She’s timid, like a little mouse, but she has the sweetest soul filled to the brim with whimsical curiosity and remarkable determination, so much so that she even moves our stern and stoic Magus. As for Seed, she’s a little more complex, she has difficulties when it comes to people, and prefers spending her time alone in warm, cramped places. But she has a beautifully delicate heart, like a blooming flower.”

“They sound wonderful. You must have a lot of stories to tell.”

Trigger nodded enthusiastically. “Would you like to hear one?” she asked excitedly.

“I’d love to.”

Trigger grinned. “We went shopping two weeks ago down in Lumina square, Orphie wanted everyone to get new clothes for winter, and we ended up spending hours inside just one store.”

“You must’ve found a ton of clothes you liked.”

“Seed and Orphie did. Orphie found a bunch of cozy pajamas and big coats, and Seed picked out some long-sleeves with some pinafores to match. But most of the time we spent there was actually spent trying to find something for Soldier 11.”

“How many things did she end up finding?”

“Two.” Trigger raised a corresponding number of fingers. 

Anby squinted. “Only two?”

“Well I did say we were trying; she’s incredibly picky when it comes to clothes.”

“Really? I had no idea.”

“Yes! She didn’t want anything that didn’t pair nicely with her goggles and combat boots, nothing too heavy because it could obstruct her movement, and nothing too flashy because it could attract too much attention.”

“What did she get then?”

“A dark-green pair of well balanced cargo pants with plenty of pockets, and a black graphic tee of a smiling cup of spicy noodles.”

“Did she wear it out of the store?”

“She did!” Trigger eagerly pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Here, look. We had someone take this for us.” She tapped quickly at its screen before handing it to Anby.

Anby took the phone carefully, staring speechlessly at the photo now illuminating its screen. Right there, in the palm of her hands, was her sister. She was standing in front of the clothes store alongside the rest of her new squad, with a small smile on her lips so exquisite that it made Anby’s heart swell in her chest.

“The girl with the rich orange twin tails and cute metal horns is Orphie,” Trigger commented, “The tail-like intelligent construct attached to her is Magus, and the girl with the gorgeous braid of sky-blue hair is Seed.”

“You know their hair colors?” Anby asked curiously.

“I help them with it here and there, I just kind of caught on.” 

“Ah… Have you ever done Soldier 11’s?”

“She’s never let me.” Trigger pouted. “She says her poofy mess of a ponytail is all she needs.”

“She hasn’t changed in that regard,” Anby said fondly.

“Well maybe she should here and there if she ever wants Seed to stop calling her ‘White Pineapple’."

“‘White Pineapple’?” Anby allowed herself the slightest of grins.

“Yep.” Trigger laughed. “White Pineapple.”

Anby let the infectious sound of Trigger’s laugh fill her ears. She pressed two fingers to the phone’s screen, zooming in on Trigger in the photo. There was sunlight dancing on her lips, her ponytail flowing down her shoulder like a shimmering stream of gold. She was radiant, in all aspects of the word.

“They make you really happy,” Anby said softly.

“They do,” Trigger replied wholeheartedly. “Saying I’m lucky to have them never feels like enough. It’s beyond words really.”

Anby nodded. “I understand, I’m sure it's beyond words for them that they have you too,” she sniffed, staring longingly at the captured memory. “Thank you for taking such good care of her like you promised.” 

Trigger’s features stiffened at the sniffle. “Hey, you okay?” 

“It’s nothing. I just get moved easily by found family plotlines. I’m fine.” Anby smiled weakly, handing Trigger her phone back.

“Please don’t do that,” Trigger pleaded, seeing right through her flimsy guise. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice now drenched with concern.

The rawness of Trigger’s tone made Anby’s stomach churn. She fiddled with her fingers, turning away before speaking. “I shouldn’t trouble you with something so selfish. Especially not after you shared something so nice with me. Let’s just keep enjoying the night.”

“I can’t enjoy the night knowing that something isn’t right. You can tell me, I’m here for you.” 

Anby pulled her knees close to her chest, her feet wiggling incessantly. “I know you are. That’s why I don’t want to tell you.” 

“If you think I’m going to resent or abandon you because of something ‘selfish’, you’re wrong. I’m not going anywhere, so please, don’t run from me.”

Anby squirmed, not knowing what to say next. She scolded herself internally for allowing such inappropriate emotions to ruin her and Trigger’s time together.

“And if you do run from me," Trigger continued, “know that I’m just going to chase after you.”

Anby’s heart thundered. “Why?”

“Would you like the short or long answer?”

Anby said nothing, unable to even glance in Trigger’s direction.

Trigger scooted closer. She studied Anby carefully, searching intently for even the slightest, most miniscule indication that she didn’t want her any nearer. But she felt no such thing, so she continued in her advance until her and Anby’s shoulders came to rest against one another.

“You have a fascinating aura about you,” Trigger said, running a hand along the picnic blanket. “I’ve never felt anything quite like it before. It’s calm and floaty, bright but scattered in every which way, it's like you carry stars in your heart.” Trigger paused for a brief moment, shifting against Anby. “And even though I'm blind, how could I not treasure starlight?”

Anby shivered at Trigger’s words. The instinct to run pounded viciously against her skull, demanding that she find a way to disappear, but Trigger—being the immaculate sniper that she was—had already locked down every possible angle of escape, physical and otherwise. The only option Anby had left was silence. But what good would that do in the presence of someone who could hear even that?

“And you said I had a way with words,” Anby mumbled in defeat, warmth spreading across her cheeks.

“To quote you, 'I’m just telling you what I think'.” Trigger nudged her. “I could give you the longer answer if you’d like, but we’d be here a little while, maybe until sunrise.” She estimated.

Anby shook her head, stuffing her hands inside her pockets. “You really won’t leave?”

“Promise.”

At that wonderfully comforting word Anby brought her legs back down, taking in a deep breath.

“Sometimes… I really miss my sisters.”

Trigger frowned. “How is that selfish at all?” she asked, wanting to understand, but all that followed after her question was the poorly suppressed sound of uneven breathing.

So Trigger closed the last bit of space that separated her and Anby, and wrapped her arms around her trembling figure.

“It’s alright. I’ve got you,” Trigger told her, letting Anby’s aura flood her senses. She immediately felt the sheer brilliance of those twinkling stars that she carried, all bound together in a spiral of gentle thunderbolts. She was like a tree woven purely out of skylight, gorgeous and unyielding, with sprawling branches and great silver leaves that spanned across the still depths of Trigger’s eyes. But strong as Anby was, Trigger could feel that the weight of all the stars she bore was far too much for her. 

It was a feeling the sniper knew all too well.

“You know,” Trigger began with a voice soft and light as a dandelion, “a certain pair of siblings once helped teach me that not every burden has to be carried alone.”

“They tried to teach me that too. So did Nicole, Billy, and Nekomata.” Anby’s breathing began to calm within the tranquility that was Trigger's embrace.

“Old habits die hard. Especially if it's one that tries its hardest to keep you alone.”

“I can’t ask you to help me, you’re already doing too much.” Anby caught Trigger’s implication.

“Good thing I’m the one offering then.” Trigger squeezed her tighter until she was certain her trembling had disappeared.

“You really are amazing,” Anby whispered.

“That compliment again?” 

“I like that word for you, it feels right.”

“I’m still not so sure about that.”

“I can go into detail if you’d like. But then we might be here until sunrise.”

“Hey,” Trigger grinned. “No copying, or shifting the attention away from yourself.”

“But I don’t really like attention,” Anby mumbled, impulsively snuggling into the space underneath Trigger’s chin almost as naturally as she did Nicole’s lap.

“Heh, you sure?”

“Sorry,” Anby immediately apologized, beginning to remove herself.

“It’s okay, you can stay there.” Trigger gently pulled her back.

“O-okay.” Anby blushed fiercely.

“Do you feel better?” Trigger smiled down at her.

“Yeah… Thank you.”

“Anytime. Just know that if you ever feel the need to run again, you can run into my arms.”

“Are you sure? I could run into that lamppost again if you’re not, it yielded similar results.”

“Was that a joke?” Trigger giggled. 

“Only if it landed.” 

“Maybe it did, just a little bit. But…” Trigger mused, “would you actually take that lamppost over me?”

“No.” 

Trigger flushed at just how quickly Anby had responded. “You’re a delight.” She nuzzled her head of silver hair.

Anby smiled at the comment, her chest and stomach growing fuzzy from Trigger’s act of affection.

“This is nice,” she murmured. 

“It is.” Trigger beamed. “You should pick where we meet next.”

Anby thought for a moment. “The movie theater?” She proposed. “We could catch a late show, there’s usually always an empty screening, so it’d just be us without any others making noise that could distract you.”

“Are you asking me on a date?” Trigger’s visor teemed with a rosy excitement.

“A d-date?” Anby stuttered beneath her. “N-no. I couldn’t invite you on a date. You and Soldier 11… aren’t you… you took her on one back then. To put such a special connection in danger… that would be sacrilege.”

“Sacrilege...?” Trigger muttered, feeling an absolutely disgusting dread begin to corrupt the tender streams of Anby’s aura. “You think we’re… Anby, we’re not that kind of close,” she said before Anby could spiral back into dismay.

“You’re not?” Anby blinked. “But, Belle and Wise told me that you two definitely were.”

“Did they now?” Trigger raised a brow beneath her visor.

“Yes. Wise explained the intricacies of what a date is and the requirements to make one perfect—which you said you followed—and Belle carefully analyzed your connection and dynamic with Soldier 11, confirming what kind of relationship you two have with one another.”

“I did follow what Wise said but I didn’t really have that sort of intention… As for Belle, we weren’t in the video store that long, what could she have possibly deduced?”

“She said: ‘They’re totally a thing.’ and then she placed her hands proudly on her hips.”

“That’s all?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, we’re not,” Trigger quickly clarified. “So you don’t have to worry yourself to death about hurting anyone.”

She felt Anby stir in her arms, that sudden dread plaguing her fading away almost as quickly as it had wormed its nasty head.

“And just to put any hidden doubts to bed; even if I did feel that way with her, I have reasons to believe someone else has already caught her attention.”

“Someone wooed her?” Anby’s eyes grew wide. “Do you know who?”

“I don’t know who exactly,” Trigger smiled at Anby’s excitement. “I just know they’re from the outer ring. During one of our deployments there Soldier 11 ended up getting cornered by a horde of Farbauti. And Just as I was about to take the shot to wipe them out, some hothead with a flaming gauntlet came barreling right down my sightline, rushing to her side.”

“A hothead?” Anby found the description familiar.

“Yeah. Smooth words and a cool voice dashed with just a touch of scruffiness. The kind of person to wear aviator shades regardless of the weather. He sounded pretty proud of himself for assisting what he considered a ‘darling little lady’, then, as quickly as he appeared, he excused himself hastily, disappearing over the horizon. 

“Was she annoyed?”

“Very.” Trigger chuckled. “The moment he was gone she started going off about his sloppy, idiotic tactic and reckless stance so hard that smoke was practically billowing out of her ears. But while she was rambling I felt an… interesting, slew of emotions bubbling from her, ones I haven't felt from her before."

An incredibly rare, toothy smile broke onto Anby’s face. “Harin really got flustered over someone like that?” she asked, far too enthused to correct herself.

“It sure seemed like it,” Trigger grinned. “You sound like you know something that I don’t.”

Anby wasted no time in sharing. 

“When we were still in Silver Squad we’d get deployed to the Hollows for drills or assignments. Sometimes, when we had the time and peace, we’d look through the ruins for anything nice or eye catching. One day Harin found an old book buried deep in the rubble of an old library, a fairy tale about a brave and chivalrous knight and their undying loyalty to their kingdom.”

“So she secretly likes fairy tales and knights. That's adorable.” Trigger cooed.

“Just like her, purer than even silver,” Anby said thoughtfully. “We weren't allowed to bring anything back with us, but Harin loved that book so much that we all did our best to sneak it inside the barracks and keep it a secret. I wish you could’ve seen her, Trigger. The smiles that bloomed on her lips when the lights went out and she was free to read beside the fire of her own hair. She was so bright, like the full moon without its corrupted half.”

“I wish I could’ve seen her too...” Trigger trailed, not knowing what else to possibly say after the short yet delicate tale. “Thank you for sharing with me. Now I know a little more about the things she likes.”

“You won’t tease her will you?”

“Maybe just a little bit. She’s so cute when she’s flustered.”

“Yeah. She really is... Could you just not bring up the story if you do? I don’t know for sure if she remembers it, or even wants to remember it. Not to mention how you could’ve possibly found out about it.”

“Didn’t even cross my mind, don’t worry. I was just thinking I could buy her a similar book and watch her read it.”

 “Thank you, Trigger.” Anby whispered into the folds of her jacket.

A chill ran down Trigger’s back as Anby’s breath graced her skin through the fabric, its inviting warmth urging her closer. Slowly, Trigger tilted her head down, her chest pounding with a wild exhilaration as she dipped her nose beneath the rolling waves of Anby’s silver locks. She breathed her in, her senses soaring; she smelled of cool fresh air and sweet morning dew.

“Trigger?” Anby called, her voice sounding distant.

“Yes?” Trigger sighed in utter contentment.

“Would you still be down to go to the movies?”

“I’d love to.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. Now that I think about it I still owe you that movie at the video store too.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. You’re busy enough already.”

“I’ll find time.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very.”

“Okay.” Anby said softly, twiddling her fingers in thought. She wanted to say more, something that would make Trigger smile or laugh again, but she couldn't think of anything; her mind was far too preoccupied with the heartbeat thrumming against her back, the warm breath rustling her hair like a breeze, the arms wrapped protectively around her, and the fingertips grazing the base of her neck.

Perhaps she didn’t have to say anything; everything was wonderful just as it was, save for just one little thing.

A tentative hand started to drift from Anby's pocket, seeking out the warmth of Trigger’s own. She felt the breeze atop her head quicken as she moved her hand upwards, faster still with each passing moment. 

So close they were now, a mere whisper away.

And then the phone inside Anby’s pocket started to buzz

“I think someone’s calling you.” Trigger jokingly pointed out.

“Oh.” Anby grumbled, her hand zipping back into her pocket. She brought the phone up to her face, her heart skipping a beat at the name on the screen.

It was Nicole.

“Trigger could I...?”

“Oh, yeah. Go ahead.” Trigger quickly released her.

“Sorry,” Anby apologized.

“I get it. It’s no worry at all. Go on.”

Anby sighed, pulling fully away from Trigger as she got to her feet. The cold late night air slammed into her mercilessly, and she immediately wanted to return to Trigger’s arms. She ignored the desire as best she could and focused on her phone, waiting until it finished buzzing just one more time before answering it.

“Hello?”

“Anby!” Nicole chimed. “How are you? Are you alright?”

“I’m okay.”

“Did you eat yet?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a relief.” Nicole sighed. “Are you on your way back with the groceries now?”

Anby’s eyes went wide. She pulled her phone away from her ear, checking the time.

11:02 PM

“Anby?”

“I uh, I’m running a little late. I’ll be home soon, promise.”

“Alrighty.” Nicole said simply, already expecting that answer. “Just be safe, and don’t take too much longer, at this rate the movie might actually end in like an hour.”

“I’ll be back before then.”

“We’ll be waiting, muah~” 

Anby jumped, quickly pulling her phone as close to her lips as she could.

“Muah,” she returned in a voice quiet as a drifting cloud, before hearing the beep as Nicole hung up.

Anby slid her phone back into her pocket and turned back to Trigger, who had one of the most mischievous looking smiles she’d ever seen plastered on her face.

“Did you hear that..?” Anby dared to inquire.

Trigger said nothing, her only response coming from the appearance of her pearly-whites and a bright green glow from her visor. 

“Ah…” Anby groaned, bringing her hands up to cover her face.

“I’m sorry! But that was one of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard.”

Anby shook her head, ears steaming. “I should probably excuse myself now. Thank you for inviting me, and for the burgers and… everything else.” 

“Excuse yourself? What for?” Trigger asked, already beginning to pack everything up.

“I thought you heard?” 

“I did, I can drive you there. And before you say anything, yes, I want to, and no, you aren’t a bother.”

Anby slumped her shoulders, letting out a little puff of air from her nose. “Thank you.” She yielded, kneeling down to help Trigger pack. 

As Anby started to fold the picnic blanket she found herself ridden with a peculiar joy over the fact that she and Trigger did not yet have to part ways, and even more so that Trigger herself had been the reason for it.

Anby scooted over to her, holding out the folded blanket. She shivered as Trigger took it from her, their fingers meeting briefly, and she couldn’t quite look away as she watched her slide it into the backpack along with the rest of the picnic items.

She was someone that Anby very much liked being around.

Anby rested her arm against the passenger side door, gazing out the jeep’s pristinely kept windows, watching as the gleaming lights of New Eridu flew past her eyes. It’d been a long while since she had last sat down inside a defense force vehicle, felt the strength of its big rumbling tires, the growl of its powerful engine. It was oddly nostalgic.

“Does Soldier 11 usually sit where I am?” She turned to Trigger.

“Heh, very rarely. Usually she’s the one here at the wheel. She likes taking frontline charge in almost any situation… and she’s also a much better driver than I am.”

“Hm… How is it you can drive, Trigger?”

“Well I knew how to before… this.” She pointed a finger to her covered eyes. “But It’s really not much different from how I normally navigate around now. I listen carefully to the sounds around me, I make note of scents, feel out the outlines of things through their ether, and track movements through that ether’s fluctuations.”

“So… like here,” Anby said as the car came to a stop at a red light. “You can feel the bottom part of the traffic light glowing, and that's how you know it's red?”

“Pretty much. I can also tell when it's about to turn green.” Trigger started counting down from three with her fingers, snapping them as she reached zero, the traffic light turning green in tandem. “The magic of sensing fluctuations.”

“Wow,” Anby blinked, impressed. “Does it ‘look’ like anything, what you ‘see’ or is it just dark?”

“It does and it doesn’t,” Trigger stepped on the gas,  “I don’t only see pitch black darkness, but I also don’t see much either… It's really difficult to explain. Imagine I guess… a lake of darkness that’s somehow clear as the purest of water. The surface of that lake would be the world, and whatever makes a ripple in it is what I can see, it creates a sort of outline that I can feel… does that make sense?” Trigger awkwardly chuckled as she pulled into the grocery store’s vacant parking lot.

“It does.” Anby nodded. “Do the ripples have color to them, or are they just a feeling?”

“They do. But I don’t think the colors always correlate correctly.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well everything has its own outline, even if its stagnant, everything has some sort of energy after all, and so everything has its own color: things that are static are usually pretty dull and grey, things like light and energy are pretty spot on, and living things like animals and people can be… a lot of different colors and even sensations at once… kind of like how you described me earlier. Which kind of makes it difficult for me to get facial features right unless I can touch the person's face.”

“Hmm,” Anby thought as the car came to a stop. “Were my words like looking in a mirror then?”

“I guess so in a way,” Trigger blushed. “But that’s more so how you see me.”

“Oh. Did I describe you incorrectly?”

“No. How could you incorrectly describe something you clearly see?”

“I just don’t want to see you in a way you aren’t comfortable with. Those sorts of things are important.”

“It didn’t make me uncomfortable,” Trigger said as she and Anby stepped out of the car, “quite the opposite actually. I just don’t think something that pleasant is befitting of me.”

“Why not?” Anby instantly questioned.

Trigger bit the corner of her lip. “I don’t really know,” she said, clicking a button on her keys, the jeep chirping twice behind them as its doors locked tight. “Do you really think a sniper and sunlight can go well together?”

“When it comes to you I don’t see how they couldn’t.”

“Hm.” Trigger smiled as she and Anby stepped inside the store, the worker Bangboos welcoming them with kind little waves before returning to their work.

“You’re sure you won’t be bored?” Anby asked Trigger as she grabbed a shopping cart from one of the Bangboos, kindly patting its head in thanks.

“I actually quite enjoy shopping, it’s relaxing, and it's nice to feel like a ‘normal’ person and buy groceries every once in a while. What about you?” 

“I think I’m the one who enjoys it the most out of the other Cunning Hares,” Anby said flatly, parking her cart beside the fruit tables.

“If you’d like I could help pick out the fruit, not to brag but I’m quite good at picking the ripest ones.” Trigger offered.

“Oh, alright.” Anby scooted out of the way, grabbing a few produce bags from the nearby dispenser instead.

“What am I setting my sights on?” 

The ends of Anby’s lips curved slightly upwards. “Apples, oranges, bananas, the classic fruit bowl fruits. Oh and grapes.”

“Can never go wrong with those. So, you usually do the grocery shopping then?”

“Mhm. Billy was actually supposed to do it today, he just forgot.”

“Has he forgotten before?” Trigger asked as she carefully leaned over the apples.

“Yeah, he does. But that's okay, he usually gets the wrong things anyway.”

“He doesn’t bring a list?”

“He forgets to read it.”

“Heh, and your other friends?”

“Nicole and Nekomata have more unique shopping tastes,” Anby said plainly.

“I see.” Trigger handed her a few apples. “Groceries, loads of commission work, and from what you’ve told me, I’m going to guess you keep track of finances as well?”

“Yup.”

“That’s quite a lot of responsibility.”

“I guess. But it’s nice to have a purpose.”

Purpose. Trigger found herself lingering on the word as she passed Anby some oranges. She had said it with a sort of strange conviction, as if she were reassuring herself.

“Purpose is good, just make sure to take care of yourself as well.”

“I try to. Nicole said if I don’t then she’ll get mad.”

“You should do it for yourself too though, that's what it means.” Trigger gave her a kind smile along with the bananas and grapes.

“That’s why I go to the movies when I have time.” 

“What about when you leave the theater?”

“What do you mean?” Anby pushed the cart along.

“Your thoughts, are they about the films you just watched, or do they immediately drift back to your responsibilities?”

Anby blinked, a puzzled look appearing on her face. “Kind of both,” she said with an unsure tone.

“Hm. We’ll work on that then.”

“Huh?” Anby stopped in her tracks, the shopping cart sliding from her hands.

“Splitting yourself like that isn’t healthy,” Trigger caught the cart. “You can’t enjoy the bright moments in your life if you’re focused on something else.”

Anby loosed a quiet sigh. “I know.”

“Good. What’s next”

“Veggies.”

“And then?” Trigger pushed the cart over to the vegetables. 

Anby brought her hand to her chin, thinking for a moment. “Meats, sandwich bread, burger buns, eggs, cheese, juice, milk, cereal, and snacks. We probably need more paper towels and napkins too… we burn through those pretty quickly.”

“That's a lot of stuff, were you originally going to call your friends to pick you up if I didn’t accompany you?”

“No. Tonight’s movie night, I don’t want to bother them.”

“Wait," Trigger muttered, "so you were planning to just walk all the way back home?”

“Yeah.”

“With all of these groceries… by yourself...”

“Yeah.”

Trigger pursed her lips, the twin lights of her visor turning a deep blue. There was no doubt about it: Anby was Soldier 11’s sister alright.

“Is something wrong, Trigger?” Anby asked innocently.

“No, not at all. What kind of vegetables are we getting?”

“Carrots, lettuce, onions, red onions, tomatoes, and cherry tomatoes.”

“Got it.” Trigger nodded, beginning to inspect the racks. “You know, I always found that argument on whether a tomato is a fruit or a vegetable funny.”

“Billy and I once argued about that for a whole day a while back.”

“The whole day?” Trigger grinned.

“Yeah, Nicole was pretty annoyed by the end of it.”

“And which side were you on?”

“I’m afraid to say.”

“Afraid? What for?”

“That the side I chose ends up tearing us apart, as disagreements tend to do to people.” Anby said bleakly, her eyes lost amidst the carrot bundles.

“W-what?” Trigger stuttered, her visor flashing a blazing orange.

“Did my joke not land again?” Anby frowned.

“That was a joke?”

“I wanted to try flat humor this time, it's usually quite effective on movie audiences.”

Trigger snorted, partly in relief and partly in disbelief. “I honestly couldn’t tell, there wasn’t a hint of inflection in your tone.”

“I was pretty sure that the grim delivery style paired with the ridiculous topic is what would've made it funny.” 

“Under typical circumstances I would say so. But you usually always use that same tone.”

“Sorry, Trigger.”

“You don’t have to say sorry for that, you have a wonderful voice. And no more saying sorry tonight, you’ve said it plenty.”

“My apologies, I won’t say it anymore.”

Trigger snorted again, this time entirely out of disbelief. “So, which side did you choose?”

“I think of them as a vegetable.”

“Why’s that?”

“They taste like one.”

“Even though it's bright and vibrant like a fruit?”

“That’s what Billy argued. He said it was too cheery to be a vegetable, that it was more like an apple you could use for pizza and burgers. But just because something looks a certain way doesn’t mean what's inside is the same.”

Trigger nodded, smiling at her.

“Unless the tomato isn’t ripe or it's rotten…” Anby crossed her arms. “A rotten tomato would look and taste rotten, not to mention smell. So maybe I’m wrong after all. Then again… I wouldn’t use apples for a burger…”

“I think you might be overthinking it just a bit.” Trigger laughed softly.

“Oh.” Anby placed a bag of carrots into the cart. “What about your side?”

“I never took one.” Trigger shrugged. “I just always found it funny when some old friends of mine argued with each other about it, trying to get me on their side.”

“Old friends?” Anby turned towards her, intrigued.

“Yeah.” Trigger quietly replied, quickly filling the rest of the cart with the remaining vegetables.

Anby watched her friend closely, an unwelcome distance growing between them as Trigger started pushing the shopping cart toward the deli aisle. That dip in her tone, the sudden falter in her sunny presence. Those friends of hers—whoever they were—were a deeply sensitive topic.

She'd have to find out more at a different, more appropriate time.

“Trigger.” Anby called before she could get any further away.

“Yes?” 

“There’s something I want to get first, it's right down this aisle.”

“Oh, alright.” Trigger turned the cart around, following Anby’s lead, the smell of sweet breads and pastries soon wafting by her nose as she and Anby perused the aisle for whatever it was she was looking for.

“You didn’t mention any baked goods or breads beside the buns and sandwich bread. Did you get a sudden craving for something sweet?”

“No,” said Anby. “Here they are,” she stopped in her tracks, her sneakers squeaking against the floor. “Which brand is your favorite?”

“My favorite?” Trigger sidled up beside Anby, sniffing the air about her, her taste buds tingling at the rich, nutty-sweet scent of red beans.

“I think it's these, right? The same as the one you gave me.” Anby grabbed the largest box available off the shelf. “Homestyle, no artificial ingredients.”

“You really don’t have t—”

“I want to, and it's only fair, you made me burgers after all.” Anby carefully placed the box of bean buns into the cart.”

“But that brand is pricey, I can’t take your hard earned dennies.”

“You’re not, you’re taking the bean buns,” Anby clarified, swiftly reclaiming the shopping cart from Trigger. “We can go to the deli aisle now,” she said with a clear satisfaction in her voice as she made her way out of the aisle.

“Really, Anby, it’s fine. I can buy the box myself.” Trigger trailed after her.

“So you do want the box.”

Trigger said nothing, and simply puffed her cheeks.

“Are red bean buns your favorite?”

“They’re my uh… my preferred strategic supply.”

Anby nodded in understanding. “They’re small and light, making them easy to store and carry, and are also a good source of energy.”

“And nutritious.” Trigger added.

“Right, all natural ingredients. It’s a really good choice for your line of work.” 

“Exactly!” Trigger beamed. “I’m so glad you understand.”

“How could I not? It makes sense.” Anby grinned briefly at Trigger's revitalized joy.

“Tell that to Magus for me, would you?”

“I don’t know if she’d listen to a random stranger, but I could try.”

“I’m just kidding,” Trigger laughed 

“I know, me too,” said Anby, parking the cart in front of the meat cases “But I’d still like to meet her.”

Trigger’s visor shimmered a honey yellow. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Anby shied.

“Seed and Orphie too?”

Anby nodded. “But I really shouldn't involve myself any more with Soldier 11’s squad. I’m already lucky enough to know you, I probably shouldn’t push my luck.”

“Maybe one day we can mend things between you and her.” Trigger proposed, a small, yet hopeful smile brimming upon her soft lips. 

Anby turned with a frigid packet of burger patties in her hands. She met Trigger's warmth with her usual cold stare. What she had proposed was impossible, something that could only be said out of kindness, or a desire to comfort, to say the right thing. Nothing more.

But that smile of hers, that sunlight flooding Anby’s eyes, was genuine. She had meant what she said, believed in it. Wholeheartedly, just like every other word or sentence that she spoke.

Anby’s features softened at that realization, the sharply honed edges of her eyes became dull as they opened wide, and the teensy little curve of her usual tiny frown split as her lips parted. She found herself enthralled, staring at Trigger in a complete, fuzzy feeling, bewilderment.

“Anby?” Trigger moved closer to her. “Your hands are going to freeze over,” she said, taking the packet from her. “You alright?”

But Anby remained in her frozen silence, her now cold hands shaking slightly.

“You there?” Trigger asked, her smile becoming straight as a line.

Anby blinked then, her deep trance breaking with the sudden absence of Trigger’s incandescent smile.

“Are you okay, Trigger?” asked Anby.

“Huh?”

“You stopped smiling, is something troubling you?”

“Me?” asked a perplexed Trigger, “No I’m fine, I was asking you if you were alright.”

Anby tilted her head. “Why?”

“You were kind of staring at me.”

“I was?”

“Pretty intensely, yes.”

“Oh… ” Anby felt a vicious heat begin to creep upon her cheeks, slowly yet steadily spanning to her ears and the rest of her face. “I… uh… we should probably split up, the store is going to close soon… Could you just get the breads? I’ll get everything else.”

“We still have about twenty minu—” Trigger’s voice faded away as Anby rushed further down the aisle, rounding the corner where the dairy was, and more importantly, where she felt she was out of Trigger’s sight.

Anby looked over her shoulder, making sure she wasn’t followed, then she turned, opening one of the refrigerators and shoving her head inside it as far as it could go.

She sighed deeply. The cold air did wonders for the heatwave ravaging her face, but it did nothing to quell the racing heart inside her chest. She breathed in, letting more of the cold envelop her. 

What was wrong with her? The question bounced around in her mind alongside her frenzied emotions like that screensaver with the bouncing logo—only this was much more infuriating than waiting to see when the damn thing would hit the corner of the screen. 

Anby sniffed, her nose now slightly runny. Maybe slamming into that lamppost really had given her some level of head trauma. Hopefully that wasn’t the case, she thought, finally grabbing a gallon of milk. Brain surgery was a costly operation, and the Cunning Hares really couldn’t afford to owe anyone else—especially a hospital—she’d just have to hope her advanced healing would be enough. Maybe if she was lucky the brain damage paired with her unique body would lead to some sort of telekinetic power; that would certainly be helpful in understanding the feelings that rattled her body. But if she was being honest with herself, she didn’t really want to understand her current emotions, for whatever reason, the mere thought of understanding them scared her.

Irritated, confused, and caught between the calamitous line between fire and ice, Anby trudged through the grocery store, gathering the eggs, cheese, napkins and paper towels, Starlight Knight cereal for Billy, Nekomata’s favorite mackerel shaped crackers, and some nice chocolates for Nicole. Which left her with one last destination.

The walk to the registers, while short, was agonizing. With every step her heart boomed in her ears, its roar somehow louder and more fearsome than any Ethereal she had ever encountered. She wanted to run, to disappear into the clouds without a trace as every bolt of lightning did. But she didn’t, she couldn’t, because she could see her friend standing idly by the registers, waiting for her.

“No running, Anby,” she told herself against the roils of doubt. “Not this time.”

She approached slowly, worried that Trigger would react in some horrifyingly negative way. But she actually looked relieved to see her, a sight which was utter bliss for her frantic nerves.

“There you are,” Trigger said, “I was about to go looking for you.”

“Thanks for waiting for me.”

“No problem. Here, let me help you with that.” Trigger took most of the load from Anby’s hands, placing the items onto the conveyor belt.

“Is this who you were waiting for, dear?” asked the lady at the register.

“Yes, she is,” said Trigger.

Anby scooted over, peering around Trigger’s shoulder. “Hello,” she quietly greeted.

“Hello to you as well, what a soothing voice you have.” smiled the lady. She was an older woman, with gray, time worn eyes, and a matching head of well kept, ash colored hair.

“Oh, thank you,” said Anby.

“Thank you for saying hello, it's not often customers do these days. Even more so for one to have a conversation with you.” She subtly glanced at Trigger. “A real kind one you have here at your side.”

“I know,” Anby softly smiled.

“Oh please, I’m not that nice.” Trigger blushed.

“I’m afraid it seems to be two against one on that sentiment, dear, and I just met you. That should be testament enough.”

Trigger slumped her shoulders. “I’m not sure what to say.” 

“I’m sure you know well that there are times when you don’t have to say anything at all.” 

Trigger clasped her hands together, looking away in a futile effort to conceal her flushed features.

The lady laughed. “Do you need any bags?” She turned to Anby.

“Yes please.”

“Here you are,” she handed her just the right amount of bags. “Cash or card tonight?” 

“Cash if you don’t mind.” Anby checked the total on the screen, then pulled out her wallet, handing the woman a bundle of bills. Then she waltzed over to the end of the register to help Trigger pack the groceries.

The lady watched the pair through the corner of her eyes while she counted the money. She could tell the two were close. They constantly stood just inches away from the other, every one of their movements flawlessly synced, it was a gorgeous orbit they had, like that of the Sun and Earth. But there was also a cautiousness in that closeness, they were both incredibly wary of the other, as if the slightest misstep would send them hurtling away from one another. The woman with the facial cover was incredibly aware of her surroundings, and most likely knew that she was observing them both: the clear sign of a protector. And the girl with the lush silver hair was especially cautious, behind that cold hard stare of hers was something timid and afraid: the light of a star severed from its sky. 

Loss clearly plagued them both.

Soldiers. They were definitely soldiers. The lady decided as she ran her thumb over the last of the bills—noting that the girl with the silver hair had given her an extra.

“Have a goodnight,” she heard the one with the visor say, followed by another, quieter one from her shorter companion.

“Excuse me, I don’t wish to bother, but could I speak with you?” The lady called to Anby just as she and Trigger were about to exit the store.

“Huh?” Anby turned. “I’m sorry but I really should be going.”

“It won’t be long, I promise. I’d hate to delay whatever you and your partner have planned for tonight.”

The pair stopped in their tracks. Trigger’s visor somehow became even pinker, while Anby’s bones may as well have turned to steel.

“Anby, if you want I can take the groceries to the car.” Trigger suggested.

“Mhm,” Anby mumbled, waiting for Trigger to leave before approaching the woman at the register.

“'Anby',” she said, “I’ve never heard that name before, it’s nice, rolls off the tongue.”

“Thank you… um.”

“Lida.”

“Lida,” Anby repeated. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Not at all.” Lida raised the extra bill. “I just don't really need this.”

“It's a tip.”

“Whatever for?”

“For your kindness. And because no worker likes customers who show up at the last minute.”

“Your kindness is appreciated, and as for that second part, I don't hold that sentiment. Life is messy, the day slips away from us. Who am I to get mad at someone for getting what they want or need in the time they have?”

“That just makes me want to give you more money.”

Lida laughed. It was a tired, but hearty sound. “So, you and her, same squad?”

Anby lowered her gaze, her eyes sharper than knives. “No. How did you know we’re—”

“I just had a feeling, I’ve actually raised two of my own. I’m no spy or mean any harm if that’s what’s troubling you.” 

“Then what do you want?” 

“Just to help.”

Anby blinked.

“You seem troubled around her, like you want to apologize but can’t figure out how.”

“Why do you want to help me? We don’t know each other."

“And yet you felt the need to tip me, a grocery store cashier, which last I checked isn’t exactly a common courtesy.”

Anby didn’t say anything, the only sound filling the air was that of her shoe thumping against the floor.

“Well, I said I didn’t want to keep you long, so hear me if you will. You see those flower bouquets by the exit? In return for this tip of yours, you’re free to pick any one you want. I have a feeling she enjoys the sweet scents of life.”

“But that would be no different from me buying them.”

“I beg to differ, I’m just using the money to buy something I want as a gift for someone else.”

Anby locked her eyes on Lida, her focus unwavering as she slowly backpedaled towards the bouquets.

“Which one would you recommend?”

“That’s not for me to decide, you’re her friend, what do you think?”

Anby spun around, studying the flowers carefully. There were red roses, sunflowers, and a mix of yellow and white daisies. She found herself drawn more towards the latter two, but felt uneasy with the meaning they carried, so she reached for the only remaining option, which in truth, felt like the right ones.

“Excellent choice,” Lida’s voice sounded in Anby’s ears as she picked up the daisies. “They match your hair colors wonderfully.”

“Thank you,” Anby shied, heading towards the exit, “Have a goodnight.”

“You as well, and one more thing, Anby.”

Anby spun around.

“Don’t be afraid of yourself.”

Anby met the old woman’s eyes one last time, her own sharp ones softening, then she disappeared through the door.

“Everything alright?” Trigger asked as Anby hopped inside the jeep.

“Yeah.”

“What did she want? Does it have something to do with those flowers?” Trigger fired up the engine.

“Yeah. She wanted to help me.”

“Oh, with what?”

Anby shifted in her seat, pulling her hood over her head. “Do you like them, Trigger?”

Trigger raised a brow at Anby’s avoidance of the question, then she leaned over, sniffing the flowers, basking in their fresh, earthy scent. “I do, they’re very healthy,” she said, rearing back into her seat.

“Good,” Anby said quietly, pulling the flowers just a tad bit closer to her.

“So, ready to go?”

Anby looked down at the bouquet in her lap, admiring the pale gleam of the night’s light bouncing off of their velvety surfaces.

“Yeah.”

Anby’s apartment complex was a dark and ominous place beneath the night. It was tucked away in the shadows of the other, much taller buildings that surrounded it, with only a handful of lampposts to light the walkways, their light doing little to illuminate the darkness permeating every sharp shape and winding corner. It was the perfect place for crooks to deal, for thieves to lie in wait. But strangely enough, it didn’t feel that way to Trigger.

The place had a certain peacefulness to it, what it lacked industrially it more than made up for with greenery. She also heard no suspicious voices, no sharpening of knives or loading of firearms. The only sounds that lurked within the twisting shades belonged to the soft tip toes of prowling cats and the delightful chirps of singing crickets. 

But there was one thing that Trigger had felt upon entering the place that had put her on guard despite the calmness: a soft prickle on the back of her neck, a presence, a sensation of someone watching her…no… watching Anby.

Trigger brought the car to a stop, her hand hovering over a handgun hidden away in a compartment beneath her seat. She studied the presence carefully, listening intently to the rhythm of its breathing. It felt faintly familiar, and didn’t feel particularly hostile, but it was observant, calculating… could it be that silver-hunting fiend again? Had they set their sights on Anby this time?

Trigger turned towards Anby, waiting to see if she had any plans on how to confront whatever it was waiting for her outside. But Anby didn’t meet her eyes or say anything, she didn’t even seem to notice that she was being watched. The only thing she was focused on were the flowers in her lap.

“Anby?” Trigger whispered.

“Huh?” Anby turned towards her. “Oh, I guess I drifted off.” She unbuckled her seatbelt, leaving the flowers in her seat as she hopped out of the car

“Anby, wait!” Trigger gasped, blood red light tearing from her visor.

“Yes?” Anby tilted her head, confusion and concern spreading across her face at the sight of Trigger’s unnerving lights. “What is it?”

“Do you not sense it?”

“Sense what?”

The feral light of Trigger’s visor paled just a bit. “You don’t feel like you’re being watched?”

“Not aside from you, no. But I like your gaze, even if it's a bit scary.” Anby said, walking over to the trunk.

“I’m serious, there’s something watching you.” Trigger quickly jumped out of her seat after Anby, standing protectively in front of her as she opened the trunk.

Anby looked around, searching for the thing supposedly watching her. “It could just be one of the cats that live around here watching us, they’re pretty nervous around strangers.” Anby returned her focus to the trunk, making sure the box of red bean buns wasn't in any of her bags before slinging the two heaviest ones over her shoulders and taking the remaining three into her hands.

A strong gust of air puffed out of Trigger’s nose. “Here, let me help you with those, you’ll get inside quicker.” 

“It’s okay, I got it,” Anby twirled just out of Trigger’s reach. “You should really get going, Scott Outpost is really far, and you should sleep as soon as you can, drowsy reflexes are dangerous, especially when on the field.”

“It’s fine, it won’t take long.”

“It will though,” Anby said shyly.

“How so?”

“Because I'd probably invite you inside…”

“Oh…” Trigger breathed, too on edge to let herself get flustered. “Well what about your flowers?” She escorted Anby back to the passenger side seat, reaching inside for the bouquet. “You can’t carry these beauties if you’re hauling all those bags.”

“I don’t have to carry them, they’re for you.” Anby said, a tinge of doubt laced in her tone.

“Huh?” Trigger reeled, nearly slamming the back of her head on the doorframe. “They are?”

“Yeah.”

“Are these your way of apologizing for running off at the store?” Trigger stepped closer to Anby, glaring over her shoulder into the shadows behind her. “Because it's nothing you have to apologize for.”

Anby shook her head. “They’re to say thank you.”

“Thank you?” Trigger’s visor turned a deep purple.

“For tonight. It was really nice.” Anby said. “I hope we can do it again soon… if you want to.”

“O-of course I do, remember? The movies?”

Anby nodded. “I just wanted to make sure in case you changed your mind.”

“I won’t be changing my mind about that.” Trigger said confidently, which brought a brief yet sweet grin to Anby’s lips.

“Please stay safe.” She said.

“I will, but you’re the one who should be staying safe.” Trigger briefly looked down at Anby “That reminds me, I wanted to give you this.” She pulled a neatly folded piece of paper from her pocket. “If you ever need anything, or there’s an emergency.”

“What is it?”

“A note with all of my contacts: backup ones, emergency ones, final emergency ones, code words, morse codes.”

“But we have each other added on Inter-Knot.” Anby said, reminding herself of another particular piece of paper Trigger had given her.

“I know, but you never know when there’ll be a service outage, or you lose your phone, wound your hands so you can’t use it, or maybe you can’t speak…” Trigger went on.

Anby studied Trigger carefully as she spoke, her keen ears picking up just the slightest tremble in her usually perfectly steady breaths. 

She was really nervous.

“Could you put it in my pocket?” Anby asked once Trigger finished speaking.

Trigger nodded, she knelt down just a tad, quickly sliding the slip of paper into Anby’s front pocket. 

“Hopefully you’ll never have to use that.”

“Could I ask you a question, Trigger?”

“What is it?”

“Why did you write me a letter when you could’ve just sent me a message?”

Trigger visibly tensed, her breathing hitched for just a second, and the lights of her visor started fluctuating between different hues of red and blue. She very much did not want to answer Anby’s question, especially not now.

“It’s…embarrassing. You’d probably find me really weird.”

“I like weird.”

“You’re just being kind.”

Anby stared hard into Trigger’s eyes, piercing straight through her metal cover.

Trigger sighed softly, mustering her courage. “I just wanted to leave you something… so you’d remember today I guess,” Trigger fiddled with her fingers, awaiting Anby’s response.

But Anby didn’t say anything, she just kept staring and staring.

“I told you it was weird.” Trigger mumbled, her visor shutting off.

But then Anby surged forward, and before Trigger could even react she felt Anby’s arms wrap around her, holding her tight.

“You’re sweet.” Anby’s voice washed over Trigger’s ears, calming her frenzied senses.

It wasn’t the most comfortable hug, Anby was still holding all the grocery bags after all, and the various things within them poked and jabbed at Trigger’s sides and legs, but she couldn’t have cared less; they were sharing contact again. Anby’s dreamy aura, her soft, cloudy hair, her tender breath against her chest, the soul-soothing scents of rain and sky. They were all safe in her arms again.

She savored every moment of the embrace, up until the one where Anby pulled away. They looked at each other for one last moment, and then Anby walked past her, scaling the stairway home. 

She waited until the sound of Anby’s footsteps were muffled by her apartment’s walls before turning to face the watchful presence. She was no longer unnerved by it, if it wanted to do anything it would have done so already, when they were both seemingly vulnerable.

“Did you two have fun?” Came a snarky sounding voice from the shadows, followed by a heavy clack of heels.

“You’re…” Trigger paused, recognizing the voice. “Nicole, right?”

“In the flesh.”

“Why were you—”

“Watching? I was just checking on Anby.”

“Just Anby?”

“And you, admittedly.” Nicole pouted. “But luckily for you, you passed the test.”

“Test?”

“I just had to make sure you meant no harm, and that you weren’t trying to steal her away from us for the Defense Force. But now I see you’re just trying to steal her in a different way—which I can live with… somewhat.” Nicole shrugged. “You seem kind enough, and very caring. But it'll take a bit more than that before I'm comfortable handing over one of my most prized and beloved treasures. Mind you I don’t mean fully hand her over, that’ll never happen.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Trigger muttered. 

“Those cute little lights on your face aren't the best at concealing what you're thinking you know. But that's good, Anby is also a terrible liar, and always having the truth when it comes to someone is a priceless thing.”

“I still don't think I’m following.”

“Really now?” Nicole raised a brow. “So if I told you that Anby really likes you, you wouldn’t feel butterflies in your stomach?”

“We’re friends… i-it would make sense that she likes me.”

Nicole squinted up at the taller woman, her lips parted slightly. “Riiight… anyway. Thank you for giving her such a good night. Hugs from her are rare as diamonds, you should feel proud.”

“I—”

“Well I better get going, I have a few more movies to watch. Have a goodnight.” Nicole waved her fingers, taking her leave.

“Wait,” said Trigger.

Nicole stopped. “What?”

“I know you don’t really know me, but I just wanted to thank you, for finding her, taking her in. I would have never met her if you hadn’t, and I most likely would’ve lost someone close to me as well if she wasn’t around to help. I owe you a lot, so if there’s ever a time my assistance could be of use to you.”

Nicole looked back, finding that the woman’s visor was stained with a pale red light. “You owe me nothing, it was my pleasure,” she said simply before walking away.

With Nicole gone the only sounds that filled Trigger’s ears were that of her own breathing, the various ones of the surrounding city, and the soft whistles of the wind as they passed through the alleyways and treetops.

She stepped into her car and turned the engine on. She sat there for a moment, her chin in her palm, thinking. 

It’d been a much more interesting and intense day than she planned—especially with the encounter she had just had—But that wasn’t to say the day hadn’t been wonderful, because it had been. If anything, the only bad part of it all was the one she was currently in: the end of it. No longer was Anby there to chat with her, to exchange glances with, to share silence with.

Being alone was no alien concept to her of course, she was a sniper after all; keeping her distance was second nature, isolation was her shield. And yet every time she had to say goodbye to someone she held dear...

Trigger sighed, turning the car and pulling out of the parking spot. She looked out the window as the jeep’s wheels came to a halt on the edge of the exit gate. 

Though far and faint, she could feel the hum of that gorgeous electric aura from the apartment. So calm it was, fluttering amidst the three others that cherished it. So light. So... 

Trigger pulled into the street, her right hand leaving the wheel. She brushed her fingertips against the flowers, caressing their petals with a gentleness unfit for a soldier.

…Happy.