Chapter Text
I awaken before the sun rises- shower, breakfast, briefing.
This has been my life in Krampus since my hiring all those years ago. There is comfort in this routine, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. It grounds me after all I do to those being judged; a retention of sanity in this insane world.
After the initial two steps, I leave my domicile and head straight to the Krampus briefing room. Typically, Zhao is there first, every time, without fail. Today is no exception. We lock eyes and give our standard nod of acknowledgement. But something on her face was different. Almost twisted into concern or annoyance for some reason. Was today's mission that terrible? No matter, it will be handled like the rest. Taking initiative before the others arrive, I ask her outright, “What is on your mind, Miss Zhao?”
She puts down her paperwork and looks at me over her glasses before simply saying: “You.”
I recoil in surprise, “Me?”
“Yep!” She does not elaborate further and returns to her papers, allowing me to squirm with uncertainty.
Damned rabbit.
I rise from my seat and approach her, my anger boiling; both at her nonchalance and her horrid need to play with her subordinates.
“Are you going to tell me why, Miss Zhao?”
“Eventually,” she says with a coy smile, not even looking up to gauge my reaction. I frown, but repress the need to say or do something drastic.
“Can it be now, Miss Zhao?” I ask her tersely.
She looks at me from over her glasses and moans, “Ugh, fine. Tell me, Promeia, when was the last time you had a vacation?”
In a single sentence, my fury was extinguished and I found myself caught completely off guard. I blink at her, flabbergasted by such a seemingly random question.
“I… never have?” My answer is formed from confusion. I have been aware that I have that right, but why does it matter?
“Oh, you never have? How depressing,” she says in a feigned tone of worry.
“You know this already, Miss Zhao, what is your point?” I quickly bring my mental and emotional state back into check; being off center for too long only allows Zhao to revel in my discomfort.
She straightens up in her chair and her smug look drops into that of a consummate professional, “Well, I have heard from the powers that be that you have maxed out your vacation time and cannot accrue anymore,” her face is placid and professional but I feel her emotions underneath that facade.
“Our enemies do not take vacations, Miss Zhao, and neither shall I. I do not care for this maximum accrual and nor shall I leave my-”
“It's cute that you think you have a choice in this,” she says, cutting me off with a gentle smile, “But my hands are tied. You need to use this time before we get complaints from HR.”
“A complaint is all that amounts from this?”
“Keeping HR happy makes the world go ‘round.”
We stare at each other for a moment, unspoken words filling both of our heads.
“You're serious?”
“Deadly serious. You are relieved of duty until you feel you have been thoroughly relaxed and your bank of vacation hours goes from full to not full,” Zhao removes her glasses, her patience beginning to wear thin. I refuse to relent, my own patience expended by such bureaucratic nonsense.
“So what?”
“So what?! So you need to leave this place and not work. What you should do during this mandated time is up to you- go play in traffic or go wander the Hollow naked, I don’t care.” She flares out her hands in a small shrug, “And, no, you have no choice in this matter; the boss is quite certain about this.”
For the first time in my life, I was left speechless. This kindness was a rare showing from Zhao, even though it was not her idea to begin with. Secondly, my mind reels from having such a luxury forced upon me like this. In the end, we stare at each other again, each waiting for the other to break first. I break the silence and ask, “What should I-”
"I already told you, I don’t care.”
Stunned, my mouth continues to fail me. Zhao smiles briefly before sighing, “Go hang out with the Managers, I'm sure they'll take you somewhere relaxing. I hear they run that Fantasy Resort now, and I heard it's a really happening spot because of them.”
“Would that not be imposing upon-”
“Oh, please. Those two would die without social contact, I swear; you won't be a hassle to them so don't worry your pretty head about it.”
“Can I at least-”
“What part of ‘leave’ do you not understand? You get no briefing, your time is already entered. Bye-bye, now,” her tone is flat with an unmistakable edge of anger as she waves me off like some child.
Defeated, I silently turned away and left Krampus headquarters like I had been evicted. Taking her advice, however, I opted to get the Proxies advice on this matter. I first called Belle and apprised her of my situation. I had no chance to lay out my plan to rebuke Zhao when she squealed in delight. Never have I heard such joy emanate from anyone like that before. I then asked for Wise who I assumed would be more level headed in this matter. He simply said: ”Well, it is the off-season, but a nice weekend getaway wouldn’t hurt. It sounds like a plan, Promeia.”
I was struck dumb, my words sputtering out from my mouth like I had just forgotten how to speak. Before I could stop her, Belle told me that she would pick me up in the morning so we could shop at Lumina Square for swimsuits. I manage to eek out “But I,” before the line goes dead.
Maybe I will tell her tomorrow then.
I awaken before the sun rises- shower, breakfast, brief…
Oh, right. I was part way through styling my hair when that realization came to me. Undaunted, I finish my hair and dress as I would for a mission- midnight hues for infiltration, light clothing that does not restrict movement. I look into my closet and a strange thought comes to me: I do not keep much in there. Changes of clothes are limited to my usual regalia- boots, combat attire, and my cloak. Breaking the color scheme felt almost sacrilege in a way. I am uncertain what Belle finds fashionable, but I will be firm on her choices- I do not need too much casual clothing owing to the nature of my work.
Belle alerts me to her imminent arrival. Almost as if on cue, Wise texts shortly after and offers condolences. I soon find out why as Belle peels away from my lodgings like a woman possessed.
After surviving the trip to Lumina Square, we walked towards the mall and headed inside to a specific shop Belle was dying to check out. Inside was a wide variety of vibrant clothing that made my own attire seem immensely drab by comparison. Shepherding me inside, we spend several hours cycling through sets of clothes Belle picks out for me- shoes, shirts, pants- each ensemble falling under a critic's glare. She asks for my opinion on each of them, to which I respond with no commitment. Some feel baggy, some too tight for my liking, and some I outright despise.
But it is fun. To have someone assist me like this was a first time experience for me. And, after a while, I begin to warm up to the idea of being her dress-up mannequin. I finally decide on some comfortable shorts and a few vibrant shirts with strange prints on them; Belle is quite fond of one orange shirt with a surfing Bangboo so I pick that first.
Then the matter turns to swimsuits, and my joy wanes into nothingness. She forces them into my hands and sends me off to the changing rooms. Alone, I merely stare at them. Some are too revealing, some are too gaudy, and some are just not in a style I enjoy. Mostly, they are not clothing I wear for good reason.
This must stop, I must tell her.
Her voice filters down the hall after I delay for a few minutes.
"Promeia, are you good?”
“Y-Yes. A moment, please.”
I can hear it in her voice, the happiness, the willingness to do this for me of all people. How could I ruin that for one of my very few friends? Will she stop if I do tell her? Will she insult me? I clench onto the fabric tightly, torn between self-preservation and the continuance of friendship.
You damned fool.
I settle on a conservative one-piece suit without too many distracting additions- in purple, of course. Her reaction tells me that I have made a good choice.
With one more addition, a pair of flip-flops, our mission is accomplished. Upon checkout, I find that I am now the proud owner of several sets of casual clothing; so much for being firm.
We grab some lunch before she returns me to my residence. En route, and whenever I am not fearing for my life in the vehicle, I hear her speak of tomorrow's departure plan and what activities to expect at this Fantasy Resort. In that time, I struggled to muster myself to tell her of my worry. In the end, I failed. We arrive, and as I watch her taillights recede into the distance I find myself alone with a bag of memories; they should be happy memories, but my mind wanders back into my childhood. My budding sense of excitement is undercut by the gnawing frustration in my heart. I pick up the bag and ready myself to place it in the trash, to call this off and wait out Zhao's damnable procedures. I hold it over the open bin, resolute in my will to be free of this idiocy. But my hand remains clenched and the bag remains aloft, the sight of Belle freezing me in place. I relent and close the lid, instead taking the bag with me to my bedroom where I toss it roughly into a corner. I strip down and fall into bed, my mind exhausting my body. Sleep comes for me soon after.
I hope for a peaceful slumber, but it comes to me, that hellish memory:
The tumbling, the darkness, that I need to breathe but no air finds me- only water to fill my lungs. My arms reach out for something, anything, to pull me up. I slam into rocks and trees and whatever else that was swept up in this irresistible force of nature.
My fading mind turns to my mother, since dead, and how I would see her so painfully soon. The rush of water begins to laugh at my failing body, taunting me for not being able to endure this. It mocks me even as I begin to lose consciousness. With one final effort I raised my hand through the water and-
I awake in a cold sweat, my heart pounding in my chest. I sit bolt upright, my ragged breath and uncontained screams filling the silence of my room. After a few minutes of disorientation, I return to my senses. I steady my breath and lay back down. Staring at the ceiling, I curse myself for being pulled into this plan without making my own voice heard. I toss and turn before sleep eventually finds me again.