024

A/N: Just finished my exam. I can confidently say I fucked up.

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It was a beautiful morning.

The sky stretched above like a pristine canvas, soft blue, with delicate tufts of white clouds dotting the horizon. Birds chirped. The sun glistened across the city like a promise.

Then—

"NO! NO WAY IN HELL I'M LEAVING LOOKING LIKE THIS!!!"

A flock of birds scattered from a rooftop with frantic flaps.

You stood outside the public bathroom stall, arms crossed, lips curled into a serene smile that barely masked your amusement.

The air inside the tiled room was heavy with indignation.

"The quicker you get out, the quicker we can get this over with, Chuuya."

Your voice was all ease and mock kindness. The door shuddered under Chuuya’s fist from inside the stall.

"You are enjoying this way too much!"

"I even called Kouyou-san to make sure you’d act and look like a professional,” you added, voice innocent as a prayer.

There was a bang from inside.

"YOU WHAT!?"

A few hours ago...

The polished door creaked open, the heavy scent of expensive tea lingering in the air.

Inside, Mori sat lounging like a proud spider in the center of his web, fingers laced loosely together, a gentle smile curving his lips.

"Ah, arrived sooner than expected..."

He turned toward the entrance just as you and Chuuya stepped in.

"Boss," Chuuya greeted, bowing with crisp professionalism, his boots clicking neatly against the marble.

You sauntered in behind him, as if it were your personal office.

“Mori-san. I assume I'm being assigned to something actually stimulating today?"

Mori’s smile widened. “Indeed. This mission requires two of our finest to infiltrate an enemy base and retrieve a certain item. A jewel kept in their inner vault.”

Chuuya tilted his head slightly. “Security?”

“They’re throwing a ball,” Mori said, eyes twinkling behind his glasses.

“Only trusted allies are invited. But don’t worry. I’ve already had identities prepared for the two of you.”

You hummed, intrigued. “So it’s a heist at a party.”

Chuuya folded his arms. “Infiltrate, find the vault, steal the gem, get out. Easy.”

Mori nodded. “Precisely, Chuuya-kun.” Mori gave an approving nod.

“Secretly. Quietly. With elegance.”

He slid a folder across the desk with graceful ease. You picked it up, flipping through glossy pages of floor plans and enemy intel.

“Seems simple enough.”

The two of you turned to leave when—

Mori tilted his head ever so slightly. “Ah, yes. I almost forgot…”

Both you and Chuuya looked up at him mid step, halfway turned toward the door.

“One of you will need to dress as a woman.”

Silence.

A long, slow pause stretched between the three of you.

“…Come again?” Chuuya said, slowly.

Mori raised a brow, as if surprised it wasn’t obvious.

“The invitation requests a partnered entrance. I took the liberty of arranging disguises, one male, one female.”

You blinked. Then slowly turned to Chuuya.

Chuuya, in perfect sync, turned to you.

You smiled. Just a little too slowly.

“L/N-san… Please don’t tell me—”

The horror on his face bloomed like a full moon.

You leaned casually against the tiled wall, mildly amused as you listened to Chuuya muttering a storm of curses from inside the stall, each word more vulgar and imaginative than the last.

“Someone needs to help apply makeup to your face,” you said, tone entirely serene.

“To make sure you look convincing. Unfortunately, I’m not an expert in such fields.”

There was a distinct thunk as something hit the stall door from the inside. You ignored it.

“But I’m confident in my fashion sense,” you added, voice soft, nearly coaxing.

“I’m sure you look wonderful, so come out, Chuuya. I won’t laugh. I promise.”

A long silence.

Then the lock clicked.

The door creaked open slowly, like something out of a horror film, and Chuuya stepped out.

Red dress. High neckline, snug fit. A black coat wrapped tightly around his form, the fur around the collar brushing against his reddened face.

He clutched the coat with both hands, like it was the only thing keeping him from shattering.

He didn’t look at you.

He looked at anything else.

“... Don't say a word,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

You only smiled softly. No teasing this time. No snide remarks.

“You look great,” you said, almost too gently.

“I knew it was a good idea to buy the coat. Hides your muscles well.”

His jaw clenched slightly. A small twitch at the corner of his mouth like he wasn’t sure if he should thank you or tackle you.

“…Tch. Damn coat’s itchy.”

You gave a brief hum of agreement, stepping closer and adjusting the fur collar just slightly.

“Come. Let’s go meet with Kouyou-san.”

Chuuya didn’t respond at first. Then exhaled and gave a silent nod, following you stiffly out the door.

He kept a step behind you in the hallway, shoulders hunched like he was trying to make himself shrink, making himself smaller than he already is.

It was subtle.

But you noticed.

Without breaking stride, you shrugged off your own long, sleek coat and tossed it backward. It landed neatly across his shoulders.

He startled slightly. “H-Hey—!”

“Don’t worry,” you said simply, hands behind your back. “No one cares as much as you think.”

He blinked at you. Then again. The coat was warm, heavier than his own, comforting in a strange way.

“…Thanks,” he muttered under his breath.

When you arrived at Kouyou’s quarters, the door opened before you knocked.

She stood framed in the doorway like a porcelain painting, composed, elegant, and mildly amused.

Her eyes shifted from your unbothered expression to Chuuya’s frozen one, then to the coat you’d draped over him.

“I see you brought me a gift,” she said dryly.

Chuuya groaned softly, looking very much like he wanted to sink through the floor.

You offered Kouyou a faint, knowing smile.

“Only the finest. And he’s very committed to the role.”

She stepped aside, motioning for you both to enter.

Chuuya sat stiffly in the chair she gestured to, arms crossed over his chest like armor.

Kouyou approached with a small box of cosmetics and hair tools, her posture graceful as always.

“I’ll be gentle,” she said, though the smirk on her lips made Chuuya question the sincerity.

You perched on the edge of a small table nearby, watching the makeover unfold with mild fascination, chin resting on your hand.

“So,” you said casually.

“Why didn’t you accept when Mori asked for you to do this mission with me instead?”

Kouyou paused briefly, brushing back a lock of Chuuya’s hair. “He didn’t ask. He informed.”

You tilted your head, almost childlike. “Semantics.”

Chuuya squinted at you from beneath the makeup brush. “Wait— Boss initially wanted you two to—?”

“Mm. Said it’d look more natural. Mature woman, suave gentleman.” You gestured to yourself. “But she declined.”

Kouyou gave a graceful shrug. “I don’t enjoy pretending in public. You, on the other hand, enjoy it too much.”

You laughed lightly. “I only pretend when I have to. The rest of the time, I’m being very sincere.”

“Terrifying,” Kouyou replied, deadpan.

Chuuya let out a huff of something between a laugh and a grunt. You caught it.

Your smile widened—more real this time. “See? You’re already forgetting how embarrassed you were.”

“…No, I haven’t,” Chuuya muttered.

You leaned slightly toward Kouyou, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “He's trying so hard not to fidget.”

“I noticed,” she murmured back, equally amused.

It was strange, Chuuya thought, how the room didn’t feel heavy. Not with Kouyou sniping back dryly, and not with you smiling like a child who’d just learned how to peel apart an insect to see what made it tick.

The dynamic was… different. He’d seen how people treated you—reverent, terrified, respect.

But Kouyou didn’t flinch. She listened when you spoke, even when it was nonsense.

And you, you acted younger around her, brighter somehow. Still unsettling, but warmer.

It made him forget, just a little, that he was wearing a dress.

“…Don’t forget the lipstick,” you said helpfully.

Chuuya froze. “No—”

“Red,” you hummed. “To match the dress.”

Kouyou, bless her, gave you a dry glance. “Subtle.”

Chuuya sighed in defeat, hiding his face behind the mirror. “I hate this.”

“Affection is a form of hate, violence,” you said, lips twitching. “You’ll get used to it.”

Kouyou chuckled softly.

And for a brief moment, as you watched Chuuya sit there with flushed ears and gritted teeth, you thought, yes. This is entertaining.

And when you caught him stealing a glance at you again, not with anger, but with something like wary curiosity, you thought:

He’s cracking.

Perfect.