Chapter Text
The pre-flight briefing room buzzed with the usual chatter of crew members preparing for another long-haul flight. Herta adjusted her navy blue uniform blazer, smoothing down the fabric as she checked her appearance in the small mirror of her compact. Her purple eyes traced over her carefully applied makeup—winged eyeliner sharp enough to cut glass, mascara that made her lashes look impossibly long, and a subtle rose-tinted lip gloss that complemented her ash brown hair pulled back in a neat bun.
"Flight 847 to Vienna, crew briefing in five minutes," the announcement crackled through the intercom.
Herta snapped her compact shut and slipped it into her small purse. Around her, the other flight attendants were gathering their materials—safety cards, passenger manifests, and the usual emergency procedure reminders. She spotted Topaz adjusting her own uniform nearby, while Himeko was already seated at one of the briefing tables, her red hair catching the fluorescent lights.
"Another day, another flight with Captain Ice Queen," Seele muttered as she passed by Herta's station, her voice low enough that only Herta could hear.
Herta's jaw tightened slightly. She knew exactly who Seele was referring to—Captain Ruan Mei, the airline's youngest pilot to achieve captain status at just 28. With her perfect flight record and reputation for being utterly professional, she was the kind of person who made everyone else feel like they were constantly being measured against an impossible standard.
"Don't call her that," Herta said, though her tone lacked any real conviction. "She's just... focused."
"Focused on being a robot," Topaz chimed in, overhearing as she approached. "I swear, I've never seen her crack a smile. Not once."
The briefing room door opened, and in walked Captain Ruan Mei, followed closely by her co-pilot, Bronya. Ruan Mei's brown hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, small turquoise highlights catching the light as she moved. Her prescription glasses sat perfectly on her nose, and her captain's uniform was, as always, impeccably pressed. She carried herself with the kind of quiet authority that made people automatically straighten their posture.
Herta felt her shoulders tense involuntarily. There was something about Ruan Mei's presence that always made her feel like she was being silently judged, even when the captain wasn't looking directly at her.
"Good morning, everyone," Ruan Mei's voice was calm and professional as she took her place at the front of the room. "Today's flight to Vienna is scheduled for departure at 10:15 AM. Weather conditions are favorable, with minimal turbulence expected. Flight time will be approximately nine hours and forty-five minutes."
As Ruan Mei continued with the technical briefing, Herta found herself studying the captain's profile. The way Ruan Mei's turquoise eyes remained fixed on her notes, never wavering, never showing even a hint of personality beyond cold efficiency. It was infuriating, really. How could someone be so completely... detached?
"Flight attendants, I need to go over some specific passenger requirements for today's flight," Ruan Mei said, her gaze sweeping across the room. When her eyes briefly met Herta's, Herta felt a small flutter of something she couldn't quite name. Annoyance, probably.
"We have a VIP passenger in first class who requires special meal accommodations," Ruan Mei continued. "I'll need the lead flight attendant to coordinate with the galley crew."
Herta realized with a start that she was the lead flight attendant for this sector. She straightened in her chair, waiting for Ruan Mei to acknowledge her directly.
"Herta," Ruan Mei's voice was matter-of-fact as she looked directly at her. "I'll need you to ensure the passenger's dietary restrictions are properly communicated to the catering team before we board."
"Of course, Captain," Herta replied, her voice coming out sharper than she intended. She saw Ruan Mei's eyebrow raise slightly—barely perceptible, but enough to make Herta's cheeks warm with embarrassment.
"Is there a problem?" Ruan Mei asked, her tone unchanged but somehow carrying a weight that made the entire room go quiet.
"No, Captain. No problem at all," Herta said quickly, forcing herself to maintain eye contact. "I'll handle the VIP passenger requirements immediately."
Ruan Mei nodded once, then moved on to the next item on her checklist. Herta sank back in her chair, acutely aware of the amused looks from Topaz and Seele. She hated how Mei could make her feel so flustered with just a simple question.
The briefing continued for another twenty minutes, with Ruan Mei covering emergency procedures, weather updates, and crew assignments. Throughout it all, Herta found herself stealing glances at the captain, trying to read any emotion in her composed features. But Ruan Mei remained as unreadable as ever, her professional mask never slipping.
"That concludes the briefing," Ruan Mei announced, closing her folder. "Boarding begins in forty-five minutes. Any questions?"
The room remained silent. Ruan Mei's briefings were always thorough enough that questions were rarely necessary—another thing that annoyed Herta. How could someone be so perfectly prepared for everything?
"Alright then. Let's have a safe flight, everyone."
As the crew began to disperse, Herta gathered her materials and stood up, only to find Ruan Mei approaching her table.
"Herta, one more thing," Ruan Mei said, stopping directly in front of her. This close, Herta could see the small flecks of darker turquoise in Ruan Mei's eyes behind her glasses. "The VIP passenger has a severe nut allergy. I'll need you to make an announcement to the entire cabin before meal service."
Herta nodded, trying to ignore the way Ruan Mei's professional tone somehow made her feel like she was being scolded. "I'll make sure to coordinate with the other attendants as well."
"Good." Ruan Mei paused for a moment, and Herta thought she saw something flicker across the captain's expression—but it was gone so quickly she might have imagined it. "And Herta?"
"Yes, Captain?"
"Try to smile more during the safety demonstration. The passengers respond better to friendly faces."
With that, Ruan Mei turned and walked away, leaving Herta standing there with her mouth slightly open. She looked around to see if anyone else had heard the comment, but the other crew members were already filing out of the room.
"Unbelievable," Herta muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes as she watched Mei's retreating figure. "Try to smile more. As if her robot face has ever smiled in her entire life."
Topaz appeared at her side, having overheard the exchange. "What was that about?"
"Captain Perfect thinks I need to work on my customer service skills," Herta said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she adjusted her blazer with more force than necessary.
"Maybe she's just trying to be helpful?" Topaz suggested, though she didn't sound entirely convinced.
"Helpful would be saying 'please' and 'thank you' once in a while," Herta replied, slinging her crew bag over her shoulder. "Not treating everyone like they're incompetent."
As they walked toward the gate, Herta couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to Mei's comment than simple professional feedback. But she pushed the thought away, focusing instead on the familiar irritation that seemed to follow every interaction with the captain.
It was going to be a long flight to Vienna.
Thirty minutes later, Herta stood in the airplane's galley, checking the passenger manifest one final time. Her uniform was perfectly pressed, her makeup touched up, and her practiced smile ready for the boarding passengers. She'd coordinated with the catering team about the VIP passenger's dietary restrictions, just as Ruan Mei had requested.
The captain's voice crackled through the intercom: "Flight attendants, prepare for boarding."
Herta took her position near the aircraft door, greeting passengers with the bright, professional smile she'd perfected over three years of flying. But in the back of her mind, she couldn't stop thinking about the way Ruan Mei had looked at her during the briefing—like she was seeing something Herta didn't even know was there.
"Welcome aboard Flight 847 to Vienna," she said to the first passenger, her smile never wavering. But as she heard Ruan Mei's voice again over the intercom, running through pre-flight checks with Bronya, Herta found herself wondering what it would take to crack that perfect professional facade.
Not that she cared, of course. She was just... curious.
The boarding process began, and Herta threw herself into her work, determined to prove that she didn't need advice from Captain Ice Queen about how to do her job. After all, she'd been flying these routes long before Mei had earned her captain's stripes.
But as the plane filled with passengers and they prepared for takeoff, Herta couldn't quite shake the feeling that this flight was going to be different from all the others.
The humid Singapore air hit Herta's face as she stepped out of the taxi at Marina Bay Sands. She'd been looking forward to this day off for weeks—no uniform, no passenger service announcements, no Captain Ice Queen telling her to "smile more." Just her, the city, and a much-needed break from the airline's rigid schedule.
She adjusted her white baby tee and smoothed down her pleated mini skirt, the soft fabric swaying as she walked. Her ash brown hair was loose today, falling in gentle waves around her shoulders, and she'd opted for a more dramatic makeup look than usual—smoky eyes that made her purple irises pop, and a glossy nude lip that caught the afternoon light. The nude ballet flats she'd chosen were perfect for a day of wandering around the city.
"Finally," she murmured to herself, pulling out her phone to take a selfie with the iconic hotel in the background. "No captain's orders for the next eighteen hours."
Singapore had always been one of her favorite layover destinations, but today felt different. Today, she was here as a tourist, not crew. She could eat wherever she wanted, shop without worrying about her crew bag, and most importantly, she could forget about work entirely.
The Gardens by the Bay were her first stop. She'd seen the Supertree Grove from the plane countless times, but walking among the towering structures felt almost surreal. The Cloud Forest dome beckoned in the distance, its misty interior promising a cool escape from the tropical heat.
Herta spent the morning wandering through the flower displays, taking photos and enjoying the simple pleasure of not having to be anywhere at a specific time. She bought an overpriced iced coffee from one of the garden cafés and found a bench in the shade, scrolling through her phone as she people-watched.
Around noon, her stomach started grumbling, and she remembered seeing a food court near the MRT station. Singaporean street food was legendary, and she'd been craving laksa for weeks. The thought of spicy coconut broth and rice noodles was enough to get her moving again.
The food court was bustling with the lunch crowd—office workers, tourists, and locals all crowding around the various stalls. Herta joined the queue at a laksa stall, already imagining the first spoonful of the aromatic soup.
"One laksa, please," she said to the elderly woman behind the counter, who nodded and began ladling the fragrant broth into a bowl.
As Herta waited, she let her eyes wander around the busy food court, taking in the diverse crowd. Families with young children, business people grabbing quick lunches, couples sharing plates of char kway teow—
Her blood ran cold.
There, three stalls down, stood a familiar figure in civilian clothes. Brown hair with subtle turquoise highlights pulled back in a casual ponytail, prescription glasses catching the fluorescent lights, and a simple black turtleneck paired with straight-cut jeans. Even in casual wear, Captain Ruan Mei somehow managed to look effortlessly put-together.
"No, no, no," Herta whispered under her breath, her heart rate immediately spiking. This was supposed to be her day off. Her escape. What was Ruan Mei doing here?
The laksa vendor said something in Mandarin that Herta didn't catch, too focused on the horror of seeing her captain in what was supposed to be her personal time. She quickly paid for her food and immediately started looking for an escape route.
The food court was packed, with limited exits. Herta clutched her bowl of laksa and tried to calculate the best path to avoid Ruan Mei entirely. Maybe if she ducked behind the pillar near the drink station, she could make it to the back exit without being seen.
She started moving, keeping her head down and praying that Mei was too focused on ordering her own food to notice her. But as she passed behind a group of tourists taking photos of their dim sum, she risked a glance in Ruan Mei's direction.
Their eyes met for exactly one second.
Herta's stomach dropped. Ruan Mei's turquoise eyes behind her glasses showed a flicker of recognition, but her expression remained as neutral as ever. For a moment, neither of them moved—Herta frozen like a deer in headlights, Ruan Mei calmly holding her place in line at what appeared to be a Hainanese chicken rice stall.
Then Ruan Mei simply turned back to the vendor, as if nothing had happened.
Herta stood there for another few seconds, unsure whether to wave, nod, or continue with her escape plan. But Ruan Mei's complete lack of reaction made the decision for her. If the captain was going to pretend not to see her, then Herta would do the same.
She ducked behind the pillar and speed-walked toward the back exit, her heart pounding in her chest. Only when she was safely outside the food court did she allow herself to breathe normally again.
"Unbelievable," she muttered, finding an empty table in a small outdoor seating area. "Even on my day off, I can't escape her."
She stabbed at her laksa with perhaps more force than necessary, trying to process what had just happened. Of all the food courts, in all of Singapore, Ruan Mei had to be at the exact same one. It was like the universe was conspiring against her.
But what bothered her most wasn't the coincidence—it was Ruan Mei's reaction. Or rather, her complete lack of reaction. A normal person would have waved, maybe even come over to say hello. Instead, Mei had looked at her for one second and then completely dismissed her existence.
"Typical," Herta grumbled, though she wasn't entirely sure why it annoyed her so much. "Can't even be bothered to acknowledge people when she's not in uniform."
She tried to focus on her food, but her appetite had diminished significantly. The laksa was delicious—perfectly spiced with just the right amount of coconut milk—but she kept glancing back toward the food court, half expecting Mei to appear again.
After finishing about half her bowl, Herta pulled out her phone and opened her group chat with Topaz and Seele.
Herta: You'll never guess who I just saw in Singapore
Topaz: Ooh, celebrity sighting?
Seele: Please tell me it's not who I think it is
Herta: Captain Ice Queen herself. At a food court. Looking annoyingly perfect even in civilian clothes
Topaz: LOL did you talk to her?
Herta: She SAW me and literally pretended I didn't exist. Just turned back to ordering her food like I was invisible
Seele: Honestly sounds about right for her
Topaz: Maybe she was just giving you space? You always complain about how she's too professional
Herta: There's professional and then there's being a robot. A normal person would at least nod or something
She put her phone down and sighed, pushing the remainder of her laksa around the bowl. The afternoon sun was getting stronger, and she could feel a slight sheen of sweat forming on her forehead despite the shade.
The rational part of her brain knew that Mei was probably just being respectful of her personal time. After all, Herta had always made it clear that she found the captain's constant professionalism irritating. Maybe Ruan Mei was simply trying to avoid making her uncomfortable.
But the irrational part—the part that was currently winning—felt oddly rejected. Like she wasn't even worth a simple acknowledgment outside of their work environment.
"Whatever," she said out loud, standing up and throwing away her barely touched food. "I'm not going to let Captain Perfect ruin my day off."
She spent the rest of the afternoon shopping along Orchard Road, buying a new pair of earrings and a soft pink sweater she definitely didn't need. Every time she caught a glimpse of brown hair in her peripheral vision, her pulse quickened, but it was never Ruan Mei.
By evening, she'd almost managed to forget about the food court incident. Almost.
As she sat in her hotel room later that night, scrolling through the photos she'd taken throughout the day, Herta found herself wondering what Ruan Mei had been doing in Singapore. Was it a layover? A day off like hers? Did she have friends here, or was she exploring the city alone?
The thought of Ruan Mei wandering around Singapore by herself, eating at food courts and maybe even enjoying the gardens, seemed somehow... lonely. Not that Herta cared about Ruan Mei's personal life. She was just curious.
Her phone buzzed with a notification from the airline app: her next flight assignment had been posted. Flight 923 to Tokyo, departing in two days.
Captain: R. Mei
Herta groaned and flopped back onto her hotel bed. Even when she was trying to escape work, work found a way to follow her. And now she'd have to face Ruan Mei in the briefing room, knowing that they'd seen each other in Singapore and both pretended it never happened.
She stared at the ceiling, wondering if Ruan Mei would mention the encounter. Probably not. Captain Ice Queen would probably act like it never happened, just like she'd acted like Herta was invisible at the food court.
"Two more days," Herta muttered to herself, already dreading the pre-flight briefing. "Two more days of pretending I don't find her completely insufferable."
But as she drifted off to sleep that night, her last thought wasn't about how annoying Mei was. Instead, she found herself wondering what the captain had ordered for lunch, and whether she'd enjoyed exploring Singapore as much as Herta had.
Not that it mattered, of course. She was just... curious.
The crew rest area was dimly lit, designed to help exhausted airline staff catch precious moments of sleep between shifts. Herta had curled up on one of the narrow benches, her navy blazer folded neatly beside her and her hair falling across her face like a curtain. She'd pulled her knees up to her chest, making herself as small as possible on the uncomfortable surface.
It had been a brutal week—three back-to-back international flights with minimal rest time, and her body was finally rebelling against the constant timezone changes. She'd meant to just rest her eyes for a few minutes before the pre-flight briefing, but the exhaustion had pulled her under like a tide.
The soft hum of the air conditioning and distant sounds of airport activity had lulled her into the deepest sleep she'd managed in days. Her breathing was slow and even, her face relaxed in a way that made her look younger than her 25 years. For once, the perpetual slight frown that seemed to appear whenever Captain Ruan Mei was mentioned was nowhere to be seen.
"Herta." A gentle voice tried to penetrate the fog of sleep. "Herta, wake up."
She stirred slightly, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks, but didn't fully surface from her dream. Something about being on a beach somewhere warm, with no flight schedules or passenger service announcements to worry about.
"Herta." The voice was more insistent now, accompanied by a light touch on her shoulder. "Come on, you need to wake up."
Her violet eyes finally opened, blinking in confusion at the fluorescent lights above. It took her a moment to remember where she was, and when she did, she immediately felt the familiar weight of dread settling in her stomach.
"Himeko?" Herta's voice was hoarse from sleep as she recognized her colleague's concerned face hovering above her.
"Sorry to wake you, but Captain Mei sent me to get you," Himeko said, her expression sympathetic. "The briefing starts in ten minutes."
Herta sat up abruptly, her hair falling in messy waves around her shoulders. "What time is it?"
"Quarter past nine. You've been asleep for almost an hour."
"An hour?" Herta's eyes widened in horror. She'd only meant to rest for a few minutes. "Oh no, oh no, oh no."
She jumped to her feet, immediately swaying slightly as the blood rushed from her head. Himeko steadied her with a gentle hand on her arm.
"Hey, take it easy. You've got a few minutes to pull yourself together."
But Herta was already in panic mode, grabbing her compact mirror from her purse and surveying the damage. Her carefully applied makeup was smudged, her lipstick completely gone, and her hair looked like she'd been through a wind tunnel. Mascara had gathered in small dark circles under her eyes, and there was a crease mark on her cheek from where it had been pressed against her blazer.
"I look like a disaster," she muttered, frantically trying to fix her eyeliner with a tissue. "Captain Perfect is going to have a field day with this."
"She didn't seem annoyed when she asked me to wake you," Himeko offered, though her tone suggested she was trying to be diplomatic. "She just said you needed to be in the briefing room."
"Right, because she's too professional to show any human emotion," Herta said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she attempted to tame her hair back into a neat bun. "I bet she's never fallen asleep on the job in her entire perfect life."
She managed to get most of her hair secured, though several strands stubbornly refused to stay in place. Her makeup was still obviously smudged, but there wasn't time for a complete touch-up. She'd have to face the briefing looking like she'd just rolled out of bed—which, technically, she had.
"I can't believe she sent you to wake me up instead of just... I don't know, calling me herself," Herta continued, slipping back into her blazer and smoothing down the wrinkles. "It's like she can't even be bothered to deal with me directly."
"Maybe she was just being considerate?" Himeko suggested, though she didn't sound entirely convinced. "You know how she is about maintaining professional boundaries."
"Professional boundaries," Herta repeated, her voice mocking. "More like she thinks I'm incompetent and can't handle being woken up by the captain herself."
She grabbed her crew bag and started toward the door, her movements sharp with irritation. The thought of walking into that briefing room looking disheveled while Mei sat there in her perfectly pressed uniform, hair immaculate and glasses spotless, made her stomach churn with embarrassment.
"Herta, wait," Himeko called after her. "Your lipstick—"
"I don't have time," Herta snapped, then immediately felt bad for taking her frustration out on her colleague. "Sorry. I'm just... this is so embarrassing."
"It's not that bad," Himeko said gently, falling into step beside her as they walked toward the briefing room. "Everyone gets tired. It's part of the job."
"Everyone except Captain Ice Queen," Herta muttered under her breath.
They reached the briefing room door, and Herta could hear Ruan Mei's voice inside, already starting the pre-flight announcements. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself, but knew it was useless. She looked exactly like what she was—someone who had just been sleeping on a bench in the crew rest area.
"Here goes nothing," she whispered, pushing open the door.
The briefing room fell silent as she entered. Every head turned toward her, and Herta felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. She could see Topaz and Seele exchanging glances, while Bronya looked up from her co-pilot notes with raised eyebrows.
But it was Ruan Mei's reaction that made her want to disappear into the floor. The captain's turquoise eyes took in Herta's disheveled appearance with a single, sweeping glance. Her expression didn't change—it remained as professionally neutral as ever—but somehow that made it worse. At least if Ruan Mei had looked annoyed or disappointed, it would have been some kind of human reaction.
"Thank you for joining us, Herta," Ruan Mei said, her voice perfectly even. "Please take a seat so we can continue."
Herta mumbled an apology and slipped into the nearest empty chair, acutely aware of how loud her heels sounded on the floor. She could feel everyone's eyes on her as she fumbled with her notepad, trying to look like she hadn't just been caught sleeping on the job.
"As I was saying," Ruan Mei continued seamlessly, "today's flight to Tokyo will have a full passenger load, with several connecting flights that require precise timing for our arrival."
Herta tried to focus on the briefing, but her mind kept wandering to how mortified she felt. She caught Ruan Mei's eye once during the safety procedure review, and the captain's gaze lingered on her for just a moment longer than necessary. Herta couldn't tell if it was disapproval or something else entirely.
"Any questions?" Ruan Mei asked as she concluded the briefing.
The room remained silent. Herta certainly wasn't about to draw any more attention to herself.
"Alright then. Boarding begins in thirty minutes. Herta, I need to speak with you privately."
The words hit her like a physical blow. Of course Ruan Mei wanted to speak with her privately. She was probably going to get a lecture about professionalism and proper rest schedules. The other crew members began filing out, and Herta caught Topaz shooting her a sympathetic look as she passed.
Soon, it was just the two of them in the briefing room. Ruan Mei remained standing at the front, organizing her papers with methodical precision, while Herta sat in her chair feeling like a scolded child.
"I'm sorry, Captain," Herta said quickly, before Ruan Mei could speak. "I know falling asleep before a shift is unprofessional. It won't happen again."
Ruan Mei looked up from her papers, her eyes studying Herta's face. "When was the last time you had a proper rest period?"
The question caught Herta off guard. She'd been prepared for a reprimand, not what almost sounded like concern.
"I... what?"
"You've been on the international rotation for five consecutive days," Ruan Mei said, consulting her tablet. "The scheduling department has you listed for three more flights this week. That's above the recommended limit."
"I can handle it," Herta said automatically, though she wasn't sure why she felt the need to defend herself. "I just needed a few minutes to recharge."
"Falling asleep in the crew rest area suggests otherwise."
Herta's jaw tightened. There it was—the judgment she'd been expecting. "I said I'm fine, Captain. It won't affect my performance."
"I'm not questioning your performance," Ruan Mei said quietly. "I'm questioning whether the airline is following proper fatigue management protocols."
This was not the conversation Herta had been expecting. She stared at Ruan Mei, trying to figure out what the captain was really getting at.
"I don't understand," she said finally.
"I'm going to speak with crew scheduling about adjusting your rotation," Ruan Mei said, making a note on her tablet. "You need adequate rest between flights."
"You don't need to do that," Herta said quickly. "I can handle my schedule."
"It's not about what you can handle," Ruan Mei replied, her tone still professional but somehow softer. "It's about safety. For you and for our passengers."
She closed her tablet and looked directly at Herta. "In the meantime, I suggest you use the remaining time before boarding to fully wake up. Get some coffee, wash your face, fix your appearance. You represent the airline when you're in uniform."
And there it was—the criticism Herta had been waiting for. She felt her embarrassment flare back into anger.
"Of course," she said, standing up abruptly. "Can't have the flight attendants looking human, can we?"
"That's not what I meant," Ruan Mei said, but Herta was already heading for the door.
"I understand perfectly, Captain. Professional appearance at all times. I'll make sure to look appropriately robotic for the passengers."
She didn't wait for a response, pushing through the door and leaving Ruan Mei standing alone in the briefing room. As she walked quickly toward the nearest restroom, Herta felt tears of frustration pricking at her eyes.
The worst part wasn't even the embarrassment of being caught sleeping. It was the way Ruan Mei had looked at her—like she was something fragile that needed to be managed and protected. Herta had worked hard to prove herself in this job, and having the captain treat her like she couldn't handle her own schedule was infuriating.
She stared at herself in the restroom mirror, taking in her smudged makeup and disheveled hair. Maybe Ruan Mei was right about her appearance, but that didn't make the criticism any less stinging.
"Professional appearance at all times," she muttered to her reflection, grabbing some paper towels to clean up the mascara smudges. "Easy for her to say when she probably sleeps standing up in a perfectly pressed uniform."
But as she worked to repair the damage, Herta couldn't shake the memory of how Mei had said she was going to speak with crew scheduling. It had almost sounded like the captain was... looking out for her.
Not that it mattered. Captain Ice Queen was probably just covering herself legally, making sure there wouldn't be any fatigue-related incidents on her flights. It had nothing to do with actual concern for Herta's wellbeing.
Still, as she reapplied her lipstick and secured the last stubborn strand of hair, Herta found herself wondering what Ruan Mei had really meant when she'd said it wasn't about what she could handle.
She shook her head, dismissing the thought. There was no point in trying to understand Captain Perfect's motivations. All that mattered was getting through the flight to Tokyo without giving Mei any more reasons to question her professionalism.
But as she walked back toward the gate, Herta couldn't quite convince herself that Ruan Mei's concern had been purely procedural. And that bothered her more than she wanted to admit.