Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

# Act 1 – The Fox Feels the Sunlight

Illari was pounding away at the punching bag in Overwatch’s gym. She usually trained at night, when no one else was around. The next day, she would be flying out on a mission to Numbani. Her focus was so sharp that she didn’t notice the automatic sliding door opening.

From it stepped, Kiriko, dressed in a navy-blue gym outfit. Her hair had been loose before, but her hands were already pulling it back into a bun.

“Didn’t know you liked training at night too,” Kiriko said when she spotted Ilari, making her lose focus and snap her eyes toward the door—only to find Kiriko standing there.

“You really know how to scare people, huh,” Ilari muttered, turning back toward the shooting stand next to the punching bag.

She hadn’t interacted much with Kiriko during her time with Overwatch. Just a handful of words exchanged—not for lack of Kiriko’s trying. Their only real “moment” had been when Kiriko offered her strawberry donuts with chocolate for breakfast at the mess hall. Ilari had only thanked her and said a simple “good morning.” Nothing more.

“Well, in my defense, I always come here before a mission. We could train together, you know, since we’ll be on the same battlefield anyway.” Kiriko shrugged and took a sip of water from a plastic bottle.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Ilari’s mouth.  
“If you can handle the heat.”

Kiriko stopped drinking and met her eyes with a challenging look.  
“Guess we’ll see, then…”

They squared off, facing each other. The cold, silent night was broken only by the sound of their breaths misting in the air.

“First one to stay down for four seconds loses.”

“Okay… and what does the winner get?” Ilari asked, eyes locked on Kiriko’s face, who smiled back with a sly tilt.

“The loser has to grant the winner a wish.”

“Sounds interesting. Hope you like the floor.”

They began. Kiriko moved first, but Ilari countered, catching her wrists. Kiriko tried to sweep her legs to knock Ilari down, and for a moment Ilari lost balance—but she quickly retaliated with a kick to the back of Kiriko’s knee. Caught off guard, Kiriko went down, and Ilari seized the chance: she pinned her with her knee against Kiriko’s torso and locked her chest down with her forearm.

Four seconds. The longest four seconds of Kiriko’s life.

Kiriko stared breathlessly into Ilari’s eyes. Ilari met her gaze, calm but intense, her own breathing heavy but controlled. She had never noticed before how hypnotic Kiriko’s bright blue eyes really were.

“Four seconds. You win. You can let go now,” Kiriko broke the silence.

“Ah—right. Sorry.” Ilari released her. Kiriko stayed lying on the mat, catching her breath.

“So, tell me. What’s your wish?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I’ll let you know when I do.”

“Suit yourself, sunbeam.” Kiriko stood, grabbing her water bottle.

“I need the rest of the night to rest, if you don’t mind.” Ilari gathered her things from the bench by the punching bag. “I’d say that was… way too easy.” She was already heading for the door.

“I still want a rematch. But… good night. See you tomorrow.”

“Good night.”

The next morning, they were together again, flying toward Numbani with the rest of the team. The jet cut through the sky toward the great city as Ilari adjusted her solar rifle. Kiriko, distracted, chatted with Genji about some nerdy nonsense—until, by chance, she glanced at Illari.

Illari looked back.  

And there was a brief exchange of nods.

“Shit, shit, shit—” Ilari sprinted through the sound of gunfire and explosions ripping across the streets. In one hand she gripped her weapon; with the other she clutched her chest, as if to stop her heart from bursting out. She ran until she could duck into an alley near the payload. Relief washed over her—only to be replaced instantly by tension when she heard footsteps approaching.

With a sharp movement, she pressed her back off the wall and raised her rifle toward the sound, face set and finger tense on the trigger. Her breath hitched as the steps drew closer. She fired before she could even think—a beam of light streaking toward the figure at the alley’s mouth. The shot missed, but only then did she realize who she had nearly hit.

“Ah! It’s me, it’s me! Don’t shoot!” Kiriko yelped, covering her face with her arms.

“You scared the hell out of me! I could’ve hit you—do you ever think before showing up like that?!” Ilari lowered her rifle, snapping at her.

“My bad! Won’t happen again!” Kiriko answered in a half-sheepish, half-playful tone.

They ended up guarding the payload together. Ilari stayed laser-focused—scanning rooftops, checking angles, keeping contact with the other squad. Kiriko, on the other hand, was restless: humming, twirling kunai, and chattering.

“So… how does that weapon of yours even work?” Kiriko asked while Ilari kept her rifle aimed at the balconies above.

“…It’s a solar rifle. I channel the sun’s power into myself before firing it.”

“So basically… it shoots Vitamin D?”

Ilari shot her a withering look, exhaled, and turned back to scanning.

“…yeah, something like that,” she replied flatly.

“Sounds cool.” Kiriko reached out to touch the rifle, only for Ilari to yank it back toward herself.

A burst of static filled Ilari’s earpiece, followed by Jack Morrison’s steady voice:  
“Ruiz, Kamori. Move with Reinhardt to the next checkpoint. We suspect more hostiles in the area. Pharah and Genji will clear the buildings. Your priority is guarding the payload with Reinhardt. Understood?”

“Got it!” Kiriko chirped back.

Ilari’s eyes moved to the street ahead just as Reinhardt emerged, massive hammer in hand. He smacked it against a building wall as he adjusted his helmet.  
“Ha! Didn’t hurt a bit!” he boomed in his usual heroic tone.

The three of them advanced under Morrison’s orders, escorting the heavy payload—crates of weapons and high-tech components for Overwatch’s labs. The supplies were vital, especially now that Satya Vaswani and her research team were joining the base. It had taken forever to arrange the partnership, but the demand for infrastructure and technology had made it unavoidable.

“So, big guy—know any good German bands?” Kiriko asked, breaking the silence.

“Ahh! I am a great fan of Saltatio Mortis! Legends of German rock!” His theatrical voice always drew attention. The two women traded glances before looking back at him.

“I’ll check them out later,” Kiriko replied.

“And you, back there—Ilari, right?” Reinhardt called while still holding his shield.

“Y-yeah. That’s me,” she answered awkwardly.

“Lindholm always says how much he wants to study your people’s technology! But… let’s just say he’s afraid of you. Haha! Can you believe it?”

Kiriko perked up, eyes flicking to Ilari for her response.

“I… I’m afraid I can’t help him. All the schematics for the obelisks and the solar rifles… were lost.” Each word weighed heavier in her throat, her voice growing quiet.

“A shame, what happened.” Reinhardt’s booming tone softened, becoming almost reverent.

“Yeah… it is.” Ilari lowered her gaze to the ground. She could feel Kiriko’s curious eyes on her.

Out of everything that sparked her anger—pity was the worst. The tone people used, laced with sympathy and false understanding, made her stomach twist. All her effort to appear strong, resilient, untouchable—it all crumbled the moment she saw those pitying eyes. Everyone’s… except Kiriko’s.

Maybe that’s what unsettled her most: Kiriko wasn’t like the others. Ilari couldn’t figure out why she treated her differently, why she always seemed unaffected by Ilari’s armor of thorns. The thought short-circuited her brain every time.

“Team! Ten hostiles east, all armed!” Pharah’s voice crackled through the comms.

“You heard the captain! Forward, ladies!” Reinhardt said with cheerful bravado.

“You sure this is safe?” Kiriko muttered as Reinhardt braced himself.

“That’s what we’re about to find out!”

Ten men in tactical gear, faces hidden behind masks, blocked the archway into the city. Some perched on balconies, rifles at the ready.

“Stay behind the shield! I’ll protect you!” Reinhardt declared, hefting his barrier as he crouched at the street corner.

Ilari’s face hardened. Kiriko twirled her kunai and suzus, humming a tune Ilari didn’t recognize. For a fleeting second, Ilari wondered how Kiriko could stay so relaxed in the middle of all this—but then she remembered. It was Kiriko.

“All set?” Reinhardt’s muffled voice came from behind his helmet. Both women nodded.

“Advance, Jack!” he barked into comms.

“We’re in position. Eyes open for any other movement,” Morrison’s voice warned from above.

On signal, the three of them charged the arch. Reinhardt roared forward, boosters on his armor flaring. Kiriko winked at Ilari before vanishing in a crackle of blue sparks. Ilari drew in a breath so deep it felt like she swallowed the whole street, her body tingling as she sprinted to join them.

A kunai struck one of the rooftop soldiers, dropping him instantly. Another went down from a precise solar shot.

“Ha! Greetings, gentlemen! Surely we’re here for the same purpose—perhaps we can settle this with a fair agreement?” Reinhardt’s booming words were answered with a hail of bullets.

“Ah, I see! Not the talkative type!” He raised his shield again as gunfire pounded against it.

Ilari and Kiriko surged forward. Kiriko’s kunai sliced the air toward the masked men, while Ilari hurled a metallic device adorned with golden engravings. It expanded on contact with the wall—an obelisk with a glowing sphere that pulsed with energy. Beams of light shot from it straight to Reinhardt.

“What a marvelous feeling!” Reinhardt laughed as he swung his hammer, smashing enemies aside.

“Stay close to it!” Ilari shouted, pointing at the glowing sphere before rushing back to watch the payload.

She stayed near the cargo, scanning every angle, ears full of the rhythm of gunfire that matched her heartbeat. Shoulders tight, hands squeezing her solar rifle, she forced herself to keep her breathing steady.

Then Pharah’s voice cut through her focus:
“Jack, we’ve got company!”

Ilari’s eyes darted skyward. A black aircraft tore across the skyline, drowning out every other sound.

And that was only the beginning.

The black aircraft screamed overhead, cutting through the chaos. Reinhardt and Kiriko were still fighting off the last of the masked soldiers—just three left now. The perfect distraction, crafted by Talon.

“Can you identify the targets?” Morrison asked through the comms.

“Only if I get closer,” Pharah answered.

“Too risky.”

“Jack, I fly this thing better than anyone.”

“…Don’t die out there.”

With a blast from her suit, Pharah launched skyward, chasing the ship. She aimed her cannon, trying to get a glimpse of whoever was inside—but the dark glass, the blazing sun, and her own visor made it impossible.

“Big guy, we’ve got a guest,” a deep, harmonic voice said from the pilot’s seat.

“Haha… leave it to me. Open the hatch!” another voice thundered, full of sarcasm and challenge. The door hissed open, wind ripping through the cabin.

Heavy hands lifted a battered minigun as if it were a toy. Tattoos covered bulging arms, his chest bare, his smile flashing with a golden fang.

“Talofa!” Mauga roared from inside, locking eyes with a stunned Pharah. Before she could react, the gun spun to life, spitting an overwhelming storm of bullets.

Her boosters shrieked as she twisted away, the sky torn apart by gunfire.

“What a cute little thing… open the other door!” Mauga bellowed, grabbing a second minigun, one in each hand. The pilot pulled another lever, opening the other side hatch. The aircraft filled with roaring wind.

“Pharah! What’s going on out there?” Morrison’s voice demanded through static.

“Ta $+(#+—” Her words broke into static.

“Damn it!” Jack cursed, eyes tracking her spiraling suit from a distance.

“Got you now!” Mauga grinned as Pharah reappeared in his sights. His weapon spun again, coughing fire. Pharah fired back instinctively, her rocket slamming near one wing. The ship staggered, but Mauga’s spray clipped her jetpack. Sparks erupted—the aircraft recovered, but she spun downward in a spiral, plummeting fast.

“That’s enough, Mauga. Time to pull out,” the pilot ordered.

“Now it’s getting fun!” Mauga’s grin glinted in the sunlight as the ship rattled.

“NO!” Morrison’s voice thundered through comms as Pharah fell.

“Leave it to me!” Ilari saw Kiriko sprint past her. With a quick hand sign, Kiriko vanished into a trail of diamond-blue sparks—then reappeared, arms wrapped around Pharah mid-fall.

“Hold on!” she shouted. Pharah clutched her tight.

As the ground rushed up, Kiriko tossed a metallic sphere from her belt. It hit the pavement—and the two landed safe, cushioned in a burst of energy.

“Uff… good work, Kamori,” Morrison breathed with relief.

Still inside the ship, Mauga leapt from the hatch, both guns in hand. His massive frame slammed against a glass-sided skyscraper, sliding down like a human avalanche until he crashed onto a balcony near the street. Shards of glass rained as he descended, grin never fading.

Reinhardt had just finished the last Talon soldiers. Morrison trained his rifle on Mauga, while Kiriko helped the dazed Pharah up. Ilari, distracted by the chaos, pushed the payload forward.

“In my sights,” Morrison confirmed, his shots cracking across the gap. Bullets struck Mauga—he flinched, but only for a moment, then smiled right at Jack.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Mauga spun his guns again, unleashing a storm of bullets. Morrison ducked behind a balcony barrier as walls and glass shattered around him.

“Reinhardt! He’s yours!” Jack shouted.

“Ahh! Finally, a worthy opponent!” Reinhardt braced his hammer theatrically.

“Mmm… Reinhardt Wilhelm, the centennial knight of Overwatch. I’ve dreamed of this moment—beating you down.” Mauga’s tone danced between menace and mockery.

“A pleasure to meet my fans!” Reinhardt quipped.

“Bring it on, old man!” Mauga roared, leaping down. The ground shook when he landed.

“Haha! Sadly, I don’t have a pen… guess I’ll have to autograph your face with my hammer!” Reinhardt thundered, charging straight at him.

“Hold him, big guy!” Kiriko called, darting alongside, dodging their massive swings.

“Quispe! Make sure the payload reaches the checkpoint,” Morrison ordered through comms.

“On it,” Ilari replied, tossing her obelisk near Reinhardt to keep him alive.

The clash raged—Mauga’s twin guns hammering Reinhardt’s shield, Reinhardt pushing back with raw strength. Overhead, more Talon aircraft swarmed in. Morrison fired relentlessly, dropping a few, but ropes spilled down as masked soldiers rappelled into the fray.

Genji arrived in a flash of green steel, his blade carving through the newcomers.

“Well struck, Shimada!” Morrison barked while picking off targets Genji couldn’t.

Reinhardt and Mauga crashed together again and again. Mauga showed no weakness, while Reinhardt swung with roaring defiance—kept standing only by Kiriko’s healing and Ilari’s glowing obelisk.

“Hm… look at this pretty thing,” Mauga sneered, noticing the obelisk tethering Reinhardt. With a casual spray, he shredded it into pieces.

“Damn it!” Ilari cursed, eyes darting between the payload and the fight. She pressed on, dragging the cargo toward its destination, though her mind whirled with panic. Every sound of gunfire rattled her nerves. Every glance toward Kiriko reminded her how fast and fierce she was—dodging Mauga’s barrage, slipping between hammer strikes, healing in the chaos.

She went easy on me yesterday? Ilari thought, memories flashing of their sparring match.

The payload finally reached a dead-end street lined with tall glass towers and neat flowerbeds. It settled onto the docking pad with a heavy clang.

“Payload delivered,” Ilari reported into comms.

“Well done, Ruiz. Hold position—we’re almost finished here,” Morrison replied, his voice nearly drowned by explosions and shouts behind him.

Ilari sank onto her inactive obelisk like a seat, bouncing her knee anxiously. So lost in thought, she almost missed the faint, strange beeping beneath the payload.

“What the…” She pressed her earpiece as static screeched in her ear. Then she froze.

A hand—gloved in dark fabric shimmering with violet particles—slid out from under the payload, tapping unseen keys in the air. No body, no shadow. Just the hand.

“Who’s there?!” Ilari snapped, aiming her rifle.

The hand vanished. She spun, rifle sweeping every angle. Then it reappeared, typing again.

“Hey!” She fired—or tried to. Her weapon jammed, coughing purple sparks. “What?!” Panic clawed her chest.

“See you later, chica.” A smooth, teasing woman’s voice echoed as the hand waved… and disappeared.

“Get back here!” Ilari smacked her rifle until a shot finally fired. The beam struck the figure mid-fade, revealing for a moment a woman her size: dark skin, purple bangs swept across one eye. Then she was gone.

“Where did she—?!” Ilari spun in circles, heart pounding. Guilt sank like a stone in her gut. I could’ve stopped her. I failed. Again.

“Done here. Let’s move,” the woman whispered through her comm, flickering between visibility and invisibility on a nearby balcony.

“Mauga! Time to go!”

“Ahh, just when it was getting fun,” Mauga roared back, still brawling Reinhardt.

His guns sputtered to a halt, leaving only silence for his words:
“I’d call this fun. But I’ve got more important things to do.”

“Coward! Fight with honor!” Reinhardt shouted from behind his cracked shield.

“Haha! Sorry, old man—my ride’s here.”

Another Talon craft swooped in, the engines rattling every building. Ropes lashed around Mauga, hoisting him skyward.

“Not today!” Reinhardt dove, grabbing him midair. They slammed against a tower as the aircraft strained to lift both titans.

“Shimada! Another ship incoming!” Morrison yelled, already firing.

“Got it,” Genji answered, leaping balcony to balcony, eyes fixed on the new threat.

Inside the extraction craft, a woman’s voice asked:
“Sombra, can you handle those?”

“Leave it to me.”

Violet static burst across the battlefield. Jack’s gun jammed. Genji staggered, half his body numb. Kiriko cried out, communicator shrieking in her ear. Reinhardt’s shield shattered—and Mauga struck, dropping both him and Kiriko.

The ship reeled Mauga in. He landed beside Sombra, who lounged amid glowing holograms.

“Took you long enough,” she smirked.

“Haha! Big guy put up a fight, but he got the message.” Mauga laughed, collapsing onto a couch.

The Talon craft vanished into the clouds.

Illari walked impatiently around the cargo, her worried footsteps echoing through the deserted street.
“I could have caught her.”
“I failed again… damn it!”

Those were some of the thoughts Illari shouted to herself, her constant self-criticism speaking a thousand things at once. The torment of her mind ceased only when a sudden snap echoed from behind her.

“Boo!” Kiriko shouted, placing her hands on Illari’s shoulders.
“Ah!” Illari spun around abruptly, aiming her weapon at Kiriko. When she saw the smiling face with smudged cheeks, she lowered her weapon and furrowed her brows.
“What did I say about jump scares!?”
“Sorry haha, your reaction is always hilarious… Oh! Get it? Illari, hilarious!” Her face broke into silly laughter, while Illari just huffed.

“…What’s that on your face?” Illari interrupted Kiriko’s laughter as she held her by the chin to examine the injury caused during the fight with Mauga.
“Ah, it’s just a scratch, nothing serious,” Kiriko said slowly, surprised by the unexpected gesture from Illari.
“….” Illari let go of Kiriko’s chin and aimed her solar rifle at her.
“Hey!” Kiriko raised her hands, confused.

Illari ignored her and fired a beam of light that struck Kiriko’s body. Unlike a solar blast, this was a healing beam. The light spread across Kiriko’s body, mending her wounds with shining rays.

“Wow, that was cool… and it even makes the skin soft too!” Kiriko said, running her hand across her face.
“…Where are the others?” Illari asked.
“They’re coming, relax, I took good care of them!”

Reinhardt appeared around the corner, leaning on his hammer as he walked, while Genji and Morrison helped Pharah make her way to the cargo.
“Ah! I’ll need a new back!” Reinhardt groaned as he reached Illari and Kiriko. “You fought well, little fox!”
“Thanks. You also held him off nicely.”
“I would have taken him down if the fight hadn’t been against a coward!”

Jack left Genji with Pharah and came over to Illari.
“Quispe, did the cargo arrive safely?” His voice was always stern and gruff.
“Y-yes, sir… but something strange happened. Someone showed up.”
“Who?”
“I’m not sure… an invisible person. She tried to do something to the cargo, but I don’t know what.”

“Hm…” Morrison stared at the cargo with narrowed eyes behind his glasses. “Either way, you did a good job, Quispe.” He said it while looking at her, but Illari knew it was a lie. She could have caught that invisible person. She could have acted better under pressure. She could have done so much more. Mistakes she couldn’t stop noticing, eating away at her with every thought. Her dissatisfaction twisted into anguish, and little by little, into anger at herself. No matter how much she trained, no matter how well she acted, something would always leave Illari unsettled.

The mission was considered a success, and the team returned exhausted aboard the jet. Illari sat on one of the couches, right beside Kiriko, who had fallen asleep resting on Illari’s shoulder after tending to her own scratches from the mission. Illari didn’t have the courage to stop her, feeling Kiriko’s hair brushing against her neck, her calm breath tickling her bare shoulders. From afar, Genji stared at the two of them beneath his mask. Illari couldn’t see it, but she was sure he was smiling at the scene. She responded with a sharp glare and a quick nod.

The jet finally landed back at base. Kiriko woke up with the noise, and the two of them left the aircraft together.
“Ugh, I’m so sleepy!” Kiriko stretched as she walked through the door of the jet. Night had already fallen. Stars and city lights glimmered, and a cool breeze brushed Illari’s face as she walked beside Kiriko. Her mind still gnawed at her while Kiriko rambled on about sleeping twelve hours straight, until Illari cut her off.

“You may have lost yesterday, but you’re impressive in the field,” Illari admitted. Kiriko seemed surprised by the compliment, but kept her composure.
“Hah… you’re not bad yourself… Anyway, I’ve got to go now. See you later—maybe for a rematch!”
“You’ll lose again, but fine,” Illari replied. Kiriko suddenly pulled her into a hug. Illari froze, awkward, letting it happen without returning the affection. Kiriko said goodbye and left.

“I thought you hated physical contact,” Genji said, watching them from beside the jet, munching on a half-eaten sandwich.
“Don’t push it,” Illari shot him a threatening glare before walking away as well.

Kiriko later lay in bed, listening to the new album of her favorite Asian electronic band, twirling a kunai between her fingers.
“She’s so… difficult… I wish I could understand her better… You know, I could… read… No, forget it. Terrible idea. I don’t want to find out things that way. What do you think, big girl?”

The fox curled up on the pillow didn’t answer, fast asleep.
“I need to get to know her better… understand how she works! Why do I want to get closer to her so much?” Kiriko asked herself, as if Kitsune had posed the question. “I think… out of everyone I’ve met in Overwatch, she’s the most… different. She intrigues me, she draws me in, she makes me want to figure her out. Like a puzzle I can’t rest until I cross that barrier between her and the rest of the world.”

Her kunai stilled in her hand as she set it down, gazing at Kitsune. Her eyes grew distant as a soft voice sang over distorted guitars from her speakers. The low volume of the music filled the room while, little by little, Kiriko drifted off to sleep.

Meanwhile, Illari hummed a tune while washing her face in the bathroom sink. She lifted her head and stared at her reflection. The scratches on her arms and face had already healed with Kiriko’s treatment. Suddenly, her mind flooded with moments of the two of them together—training, the mission, every little thing Kiriko had said or done. Nothing made sense. Why was she like this? Why did Kiriko want to be around her?

Illari’s thoughts weighed heavy, her brows furrowing, her head aching as she tried to understand. She remembered Kiriko’s mischievous grin, the playful scares, the constant curiosity, those big bright eyes that left her flustered every time. She shook her head, splashing water, chasing the thoughts away.
“I need sleep,” she muttered, facing another restless night filled with the torment of endless questions.

The night passed. The moon gave way to the sun, rising gently to greet those who still clung to sleep.

Illari grabbed a sweet juice box from the base’s vending machine, placing it neatly to the right side of her plate of lomo saltado. She carried her tray to one of the tables farther from the other agents, who usually filled the central seats of the hall. Opening the juice, she poked it with the straw just as a strange shadow blocked her vision. Looking up, she saw exactly what she expected: Kiriko, smiling at her.

“Can I sit here?” she asked, still smiling.

“…” Illari didn’t answer. She just made a small noise with her mouth and went back to poking at the meat on her plate. Kiriko took it as a “yes” and sat down across from her. Illari glanced sideways at Kiriko, pulling out a cheeseburger, greasy fries, and a large cup of soda.

“You’re going to eat that junk before training? You’ll die before thirty,” Illari muttered, stabbing her food with her fork.

“Ha, well, I eat this almost every lunch, and I’m still alive… so…” Kiriko took a bite of a fry.

“Dr. Ziegler would kill you if she saw your habits.”

“She already knows. She’s been trying to convince Genji to put me on one of those boring balanced-nutrition routines… Like, I already train a lot, that’s more than enough.” She started unwrapping the burger, the thin paper practically transparent with grease.

“I don’t think that’s how it works.” Illari sipped her juice.

“Anyway, did you hear what happened with yesterday’s cargo?”

“…No,” Illari dragged her words.

“Well, apparently the routing code had been tampered with, and the shipment was taken to another location. In other words, the equipment’s gone. And because of that setback, the scientist’s team will only arrive much later than planned. Seems like she’s handling business in Brazil or something.”

“Wait, really?” Illari set her fork down.

“Yeah. Lúcio was happy about it though. I’d love to visit Brazil one day, he always says—”

Illari cut her off.
“No, not that. The cargo… it disappeared?”

“Yeah, kinda. They even tried to track it, but Talon knows how to cover their systems and erase their tracks.”

“Damn it! It was that woman!” Illari exclaimed, drawing the attention of people around.

“Hey, relax!” Kiriko chuckled nervously. “What woman?”

“…When you all were still taking care of the agents, I was left alone with the cargo. That’s when… I saw a human hand doing something to it. I tried to stop her, but… it was someone invisible. She messed with my solar rifle too, locked it up so I couldn’t shoot. I thought I had stopped her, but… I failed! I could have caught her!”

“I’ve heard that story before. The ‘invisible woman’ has been a huge headache for Overwatch. Genji told me she’s as slippery as a snake, always vanishing at the exact moment, always getting what she wants. It’s not your fault. If no one in Overwatch has been able to track or catch her until now, you’re just another mark in the list. Don’t beat yourself up over it…” Kiriko bit into her burger.

“You don’t understand. I could have captured her…”

“Yeah, but you didn’t. So what? Move on.” Kiriko opened the sandwich and started picking the pickles out from between the lettuce.

“How can you be so carefree?!” Illari snapped.

“Look, we did an excellent job. The mistake was not having more people guarding the cargo besides you. In the end, we were just following orders. Any blame falls on the mission commander.” Kiriko finished with another bite. “Hierarchy, Sunbeam!” she added with her mouth full.

Every time Kiriko called her that, a chill ran down Illari’s spine, a strange mixture of feelings she didn’t want to face.

“…Still, I should have done better.” Illari stirred her food around, avoiding Kiriko’s eyes.

...

The days at the Overwatch base went on as usual, except Illari was seeing Kiriko a lot more than normal. And it was starting to irritate her.
“Why is she always around?”
“Is she following me?”
“She must be messing with me, for sure.”

Illari’s head spun with these thoughts, step after step, her footsteps growing heavier as she headed toward the ship. Her eyes scanned the interior as soon as she stepped inside—Reinhardt, Echo, Hanzo… and Kiriko.

The moment Illari entered, Kiriko waved at her with a wide grin. Illari just gave a small wave back before turning toward one of the couches.

PFT!

Kiriko appeared right behind her in a burst of sparks.

“AH! … Are you trying to kill me?!”

“Thought you could get rid of me that easily, Sunbeam?”

“Call me that again and I’ll break you!”

“Guess I’ll need… sunscreen, then…” Kiriko burst into laughter, while Illari dropped onto one of the L-shaped couches.

“Funny girl,” Illari muttered as Kiriko plopped down next to her.

“…”
“…”
“Just… don’t pull that in the middle of a battlefield, understood? You pop up out of nowhere—I could seriously hurt you. Remember last time?”

“…Yeah, I remember. And… you didn’t hurt me, did you?” Kiriko leaned back, kicking her feet onto the table.

“You could take this a bit more seriously, don’t you think?”

“I’m fine like this.”

“Yeah… until you almost die!”

“I know you’ll save me. So I’m fine.” Kiriko grinned at Illari.

“Only if you stay close to me!” Illari shot her a side glance as Kiriko dropped a kunai she’d been twirling on her finger.

“Don’t worry. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

No matter where Illari went, the universe seemed determined to throw Kiriko in her path. They kept running into each other. She really wasn’t going to get rid of her that easily.

Days passed, and Illari still tried to dodge Kiriko actively. Her brightness, her constant energy—it all left Illari dizzy. The few conversations they had that actually mattered weren’t many. One of them was at the break room’s coffee machine:

“You have to press the button three seconds before the machine shuts off—more coffee comes out that way.”  
“How did you even figure that out?”  
“I’ve been here a long time, you know.”

Illari could still picture the idiotic grin on her face.

Other talks were brief—about missions, or little tips here and there. Illari didn’t really mind that, but Kiriko always seemed to be teasing her, some kind of challenge in her eyes. A game. Like a chess match, where every move had to be carefully calculated to avoid giving Kiriko the satisfaction of victory.

Her mind kept circling back to their sparring match. She’d never used that “wish” Kiriko had promised, and she wasn’t even sure if she ever would. Everything that came out of Kiriko’s mouth felt frivolous, provoking, irritating… and worst of all—hypnotizing.

---

“Due to the setback with the cargo, the London missions will have to wait,” Captain Chase was saying. “Even so, we’ll send a monitoring team. Until then, we’ll focus on preparing for Satya’s arrival—”

Her words started to blur for Illari, muffled by a new sound beside her: coughing. It dragged on too long. A hand touched her leg, gloved, with long fingers contracting and stretching, bitten nails painted sea-green.

“COF—COF—GU—” As always, Kiriko. Illari had expected another one of her dumb jokes about the British. Instead, her expectations shattered when she saw Kiriko choking silently beside her, trying not to attract attention. Illari’s eyes widened—her hand struck Kiriko’s back hard.

The smack echoed through the hall. In that same moment, a hard strawberry candy shot out of Kiriko’s throat.

“Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine!” Kiriko said, laughing through her coughs.

“Hrm-hmm.” Both of them froze. The whole hall had turned to look, including Captain Chase on stage, arms crossed, eyes sharp as daggers. Everyone stared, except Cole Cassidy, who poorly tried to hide his laughter behind Hanzo.

“I… I choked… you can… you can continue, Captain… sorry.”

Illari slid down in her chair, hiding her face from the stares

---

“And… you know why the Brit doesn’t like going to the lottery? Huh? Huh?” Kiriko laughed at her own joke before even finishing it.

“Kiriko.”

“Come on, you know? Huh?”

“Kiriko. Can you take anything seriously in life?!” Illari snapped.

“I… I can, actually.” Kiriko’s voice dropped suddenly.

“If you could, you wouldn’t be eating CANDY during a mission briefing! Or refusing to eat properly, when you’re supposed to be someone who saves lives every day! Or playing with kunai during missions! Or thinking of jokes instead of thinking about the lives at risk in these cities! This reckless, childish behavior of yours is going to get you hurt one day… And why do you keep dragging me into all this, huh?!”

“I…”

“You’re always near me, following me, wherever I go, you’re there! And every conversation we have, you push me, testing my limits. What do you want anyway? To piss me off as much as possible? To dig out all my secrets? To make me childish and reckless like you? Huh?! What’s the point of all this?!”

“Has it ever crossed that stubborn head of yours that maybe…Maybe I just want to know you?”

Kiriko’s words hit Illari in a strange way. It wasn’t like her questions had been answered. “Why is she doing all this?” … “Why does she want to know me?” … “What does she see in me?”

Questions Illari would never say out loud. Hearing such a firm answer from Kiriko left her thinking longer than she wanted. She had spent years building defenses, mechanisms to keep people at arm’s length, to avoid attachments, to avoid trouble, to avoid… people. And yet despite all that, Kiriko still kept following her.

Whenever she thought about it, Kiriko’s answer came back: those brown eyes blinking calmly at her, words wrapped in sarcasm and conviction, peppered with challenge. A mixture of everything Illari saw in her, sticking to her mind like caramel tangled in hair.

...

Illari returned to the training room at night, as usual. She always feared running into Kiriko there, but deep down, whenever the door slid open, she half-hoped to see green hair and brown eyes throwing kunai at targets. Not this time. The room was empty, silent, cold. The aura calmed her.

Her kicks smacked against the punching bag, followed by heavy, precise punches. Her body moved fast, reflexes sharp, just like the days she had trained to become an Inti warrior. Harsh drills, endless self-criticism—the pursuit of perfection in the midst of complete failure. Everything she once had, everything she once built, had turned to dust, like the lilies that once bloomed in Runasapi.

The more her thoughts screamed, the harder her fists and feet struck. Muscles begged for rest, her throat cried for water, her mind refused to stop. Continue. Always. More. Always more.

The cold room clashed with the heat of her body. Her ragged breathing echoed through the room, eyes clenched in anger, body aching, dripping with sweat. Loose strands of hair clung to her face until she brushed them away. Leaning against the bag, she opened her eyes, glassy, staring into nothing. Calm began to return—until a loud crash echoed through the hallway.

“Damn it…” she muttered, moving toward the noise. Each step carefully placed, she followed the sound. From a distance, she saw something glinting under the corridor’s lone light. Metal, with a wooden handle carved with moons and foxes. Illari would recognize it anywhere. A… kunai.

“Ah, hey!”

Illari jumped, startled, and instinctively struck out. Her elbow connected squarely with someone’s face.

“Ouch...Ouch!”

“KIRIKO?!”

“Ow ow ow ow—” She held her eye, groaning in pain while half-laughing. “You idiot, come here—”

Illari pulled her back into the training room and rummaged through one of the first-aid kits in the cabinets. The blow had left a swollen bruise near Kiriko’s eye—easily treatable.

“Sit.” Illari ordered, pointing at the same mat where they had sparred weeks ago. Without protest, Kiriko obeyed, still covering her eye.

“Lucky I didn’t hit you right in the eye.”

“Yeah… would’ve been kinda hard to throw kunai like this,” Kiriko chuckled.

“You’re an idiot.”

Of course Kiriko laughed it off. Illari hadn’t expected anything different. She pulled cotton and a bottle of alcohol from the kit.

“Take your hand off… please.”

“Ohhh, look at that, magic words… ta-da!” Kiriko lowered her hand, revealing the swollen bruise. Illari ignored the joke.

With cotton in hand, Illari leaned closer, gently pressing the soaked pad against Kiriko’s face. The cold room seemed to warm with the simple act. Kiriko’s skin was soft, warm—it felt like rubbing a cloud.

“Sorry… for the scare,” Illari muttered, wincing as if feeling the pain herself.

“You really do like annoying me… And sorry for the eye.”

“My favorite pastime, hehe… but relax.”

“Here… I was thinking, about everything I said to you that day. I’m sorry for that, okay?” Illari said.

“Wow, another magic word learned. I’m proud of you, Sunbeam.”

“Don’t make me regret it.” Illari’s gaze hardened. “It’s just that… you don’t know anything about me. You have no idea who I am. And I’ve treated you so badly these past weeks, I’m just… completely confused as to why you’re still here. Here, there, everywhere… wherever I am.”

“Illari, there’s no secret. I just want to know you better. That’s it. You’re cool. Beneath all those thorns, there’s the person I want to talk to. Just give me a little trust… If you regret it, I’ll disappear from your life. You can pretend you never knew me.”

“No… it’s… it’s not that easy.” Illari began putting the kit away. “You’re just… so… argh.”

“Oh, come on. Here, I’ll start. My name’s Kiriko Kamori. I’m from Kanezaka, in Japan. I love donuts, dumb movies, games, electronic music, pop, and rock…”

Illari almost laughed. She avoided people, yes, but she was certain this was the most robotic way she’d ever seen someone introduce themselves. Still, she listened.

Kiriko rambled about her city, about how she protected her region with the help of the yokai. She even tried explaining what yokai were, before suddenly switching to hobbies she wished she had but couldn’t because Overwatch took up all her time.

Illari barely spoke. She just listened. And listened. And listened. Everything Kiriko said was strangely hypnotic. Her words, her gestures, the way she moved her hands as she spoke—it pulled Illari in.

At one point, Illari realized she was staring, guided by the rhythm of Kiriko’s rambling. Before she could turn away, Kiriko noticed her eyes.

“What is it?” Kiriko smiled.

“Nothing. Why?” Illari quickly looked away, blinking rapidly.

“I talked too much, didn’t I? It must be late—” she grabbed her phone and checked the time. “Yeah, it’s really late. I should get going. Sorry again about the scare. It was nice talking.”

She stood up, already slipping away from everything they had just built. Illari felt the sudden urge to hear more, though she’d never admit it. Showing that kind of interest would feel like checkmate—and she refused to let Kiriko win.

“Well… good night, Sunbeam.” The playful pause in her words lingered just long enough as she reached the sliding door. Illari’s chest tightened.

“Kiriko—”

She spun around so fast she nearly twisted her neck.

“Yes?”

“…Why do you call me that?”

“Sorry? Call you what?”

“…That. What you just called me.” Illari spoke with feigned indifference.

“…Sunbeam?”

“…Yeah.” Illari’s eyes shifted sideways.

“I don’t know. maybe because your eyes, or your powers”

“If you say so.” Illari muttered, voice dropping low.

“But hey—if you want me to stop, I’ll stop.”

“No… I… I don’t mind.” Her eyes studied the floor, though she caught a glimpse of a mischievous smile curling on Kiriko’s lips.

“Well then. Good night!”

With a wave, Kiriko disappeared through the door. But her voice lingered inside Illari’s head, echoing her words. Illari couldn’t stop replaying them, even as she walked back toward her room.

In her mind, it all felt impossible. Someone from Overwatch being this close to her—especially Kiriko. Kiriko, who was popular, liked by everyone at the base. And Illari? Nobody knew anything about her… except that.

Kiriko couldn’t fall asleep that night. She had been struggling with insomnia for a few weeks now. She tossed and turned in bed, closed her eyes, read, talked to Kitsune, even thought about banging her head against the headboard just to knock herself out and sleep for three straight days. She knew she needed good sleep to be able to fight during missions, but she simply couldn’t. To deal with it, she decided to adopt a new habit: visiting the Overwatch base rooftop every night at 2 a.m. to meditate. And that night was no different.

Again, her body turned to the right, then to the left, she pulled the blanket off, nearly fell out of bed, even tried lying on the floor—nothing worked.
“Damn it, fine,” she muttered, and with quiet steps she headed to the rooftop. Strange, since she never had sleep problems before. She always slept well—or at least “well” for her, considering the scoldings she often got from Doctor Ziegler during missions. Her “sleeping well” might not be standard, but it worked for her.

Her insomnia carried her back to the fresh air and dim light of the rooftop.
“Brr… *samui*…” Kiriko shivered with the cold night wind. “Good night, Lady Moon.”
The full moon smiled back at her like an old friend, right in its usual spot. Kiriko kneeled down, contemplating the stars twinkling at her, ready to say goodbye to the view. She closed her eyes…

“Kitsune ga watashi o nagusame, hoshi ga watashi no seishin ni fure, watashi no mawari no sekai ga honrai arubeki yō ni odayaka de arimasu yō ni.”

Inside herself, Kiriko repeated the phrase three times until she felt the fox’s presence. The tips of her hair glowed, a circle of light formed around her, right where she was. A shield, a feeling of comfort filled the rooftop at that moment—the same feeling Kiriko always carried inside her mental space: a grassy field, Sakura trees dropping petals carried by a calm breeze. Kiriko gazed at the sunrise inside her mind. Her eyes closed for a moment, letting the warmth of the rising sun touch her skin.

“Hi,” she heard, still inside the scene.

Illari appeared, glowing like the sun right beside her. Her tattoos were showing, her spiked hair flowed like waves of light, her eyes reflected the sunlight in golden irises, her whole skin seemed to be bathed in gold. Kiriko could feel the comforting warmth of the morning sun against her own skin.

“Illari! What are you doing here?” Kiriko asked, confused.
“The same as you,” Illari answered, still staring at the view.
“Running away?”
“You’ll find out eventually.”

“…”
“…”

“Your silence sometimes annoys me.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to hear your voice more.”
“Then tell me that.”
“Wait—what?” Kiriko turned, confused.

Illari vanished. Everything worked like a dream, and it felt just as strange—except more real. Kiriko had never seen anyone else appear in that mental space she built in her mind. It was almost frightening…

When Illari disappeared from the scenery, Kiriko’s eyes opened and the whole scene dissolved. Her bright blue eyes slowly returned to normal. Suddenly, Kiriko felt the cold night again, almost like the moon itself was saying, “go away.” With numb legs, she got up and walked slowly toward the exit.

“What… what was that?” was the only thought she could muster.

The warmth of the scene faded, leaving only the cold night breeze pushing her away.

“Yeah, I’m telling you, I saw her, like, as if she was really there.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t just a dream?”
“How could it be a dream if I can’t even sleep?”
“Other people can’t enter your mental space… can they?”
“That’s what I thought too, but it’s real! It happened! Believe me, Genji.”
“Alright, fine, I believe you. Just… I think all this is strange.”
“Yeah, imagine me.”

The two spoke quietly as they sat down for lunch, both just back from a mission—four hours of flying followed by six more of evacuation and cargo escort. Kiriko was recounting every detail of what had happened the night before, while Genji listened attentively, though still seeming a little unconvinced by all the information she was spitting out. Suddenly, his plate of dinosaur-shaped nuggets looked ten times more interesting than anything Kiriko was saying.

“…then, she disappeared!”—she finished some sentence Genji hadn’t even heard.
“Uh-huh.”—Genji, mouth full, just nodded.
“Hm… and it’s true you don’t even care about your sword, right?”
“Uh-huh… yeah…”
“You’re not even listening to me!”
“Sorry, I’m hungry. Excuse me…”—he grabbed two more nuggets and dipped them into soy sauce.
“Seriously?? Dino-nuggets? How old are you, seven?”

Genji only raised his index finger, and still chewing, said:
“Never question a ninja’s diet, foolish fox.”
“Argh!”—Kiriko jumped from her chair and stormed out of the cafeteria.

“She’s gotta be here somewhere.”
Kiriko pulled piles of manga out of an old chest she had dragged from under her bed.

“No… no… not this one either. Wow, I really do read a lot of manga.”
The smell of old paper filled the room, dust and sneezes coming out of Kiriko as she tossed books onto the growing pile by her side.
“Aha!”

From the bottom of the chest, she pulled out a particularly old book. A childhood friend back in Kanezaka had given it to her when Kiriko first started fighting alongside Kitsune against the Hashimoto clan—to wield such a powerful spirit as Kitsune by your side, you must have strong mental control. That’s why the book on meditation had been so useful back then. But now it had been left to rot under her bed.

“I should’ve read the whole thing back then. After the third chapter it gets boring… nah!”
She shook her head side to side, flipping through the book impatiently, scanning for a keyword that could answer her questions.

“Blah blah blah… Connections, ancestry… ah, here, mental sceneries.”
The page was full of drawings of flowers and trees, giving the impression they were moving with the wind. Some of the characters were faded, making the reading a bit harder.

The old book was entirely written in Japanese, with only a few step-by-step illustrations of how to meditate.

“Ha, look at this, girl!” Kiriko kept her eyes on the page but tilted her head to read aloud to Kitsune, who appeared in the room with a flash of blue light that briefly lit up the space.

> A mental scenery is the most solitary space that exists. Pure souls who possess such a space must protect the preservation of their mind…

Kiriko snorted ironically.
“They talk like it’s easy to stay sane nowadays.”

She continued reading the page aloud:

> …but rarely, it may happen that your mental space merges with desires of the flesh, creating illusions that feel far too real during a session of visiting your mental scenery…

Her eyes widened, and she jumped to her feet.

“…this illusion comes from your greatest desire at the moment… that which tames your thoughts…”

Kiriko slowly lowered the book, holding it open against her chest.

“That which you most desire?”

“Okay, listen to my plan.” Kiriko paced around the room, balancing the open book in one hand, while Kitsune simply followed her movements with her eyes.
“What if… I teach Illari how to meditate? I mean, meditation has revealed a lot of things to me about myself… like, that I prefer sweets over salty food, that I have a slight fear of heights, and a really low degree of myopia… But there were useful things I discovered too, okay! I just… don’t remember them right now.”

Kitsune tilted her head and let out a sound.

“If I teach her how to meditate, she’ll discover things about herself, and then maybe, I’ll get some answers. And with a bit of luck, a way to fix all this. Not that I really care that much about ‘mental balance’… What do you think of the plan, girl?”

She turned to Kitsune, only to find the fox curled up, already asleep on the pile of manga scattered across the floor.

“…Yeah, it’s a dumb plan. I guess I’m just desperate… and I can’t think of anything else.”

Kiriko spent more time than she’d like stewing on it. “Your greatest desire” echoed in her head. All she could picture was Illari shining like the sun right beside her, how real it all felt… and how good.

Even so, the wave of insomnia still haunted Kiriko.

“You know what, screw it.” She stood up, tired of mulling over the book, Illari in her mental scenery, and the whole situation. She grabbed the meditation book, flipped straight to the page about meditation principles, and ripped it out. On the back, she began translating the step-by-step guide into English.

“…Now let’s just hope she’s at least a little curious about this, and… maybe tries it.” She sealed the page inside an envelope with a quick lick. All the while, her mind nagged at her: this is pointless, she’ll ignore it, this is something she has to work out with the spirits. Still, she pushed the thought aside.

“Later, girl.” She stroked Kitsune, still sleeping peacefully on the rug, then crossed the room on light steps toward the sliding door. Even as she walked into the dim corridor, she kept wondering if any of this even made sense.

Her footsteps echoed through the empty hallways. It was already late at night; the other rooms glowed faintly through the cracks of their sliding doors. Only Illari’s door was completely dark.

“She must already be asleep.”

Kiriko crouched down and tried to slip the envelope under the thin gap beneath Illari’s door.

“Stupid… sliding… doors,” she muttered, struggling to push it through.
“Damn it!” The letter crumpled. Kiriko yanked it back to try again.

“—Uh… Kiriko?”

Startled, she shot up so fast her head smacked the door. Clumsy, she spun around.

“Illari?? What are you doing here?”

“…This is my room.”

“Yeah, but… I thought you were inside.” Kiriko awkwardly hid the envelope behind her back, totally suspicious, avoiding Illari’s eyes.

“…Were you trying to peek under my door?”

“No! No, of course not, I was just…” Kiriko glanced around everywhere, trying to think of any acceptable reason for why she was sneaking around Illari’s door at one in the morning. She decided to do what she learned from Genji—answer a question with another question. Maybe it would work.
“Where were you? I didn’t see you all day.”

“Don’t change the subject, Kiriko,” Illari said seriously.

“I just… I was just ask—” before finishing her sentence, Kiriko was interrupted by Illari snatching the letter hidden behind her back.

“Hey!” Kiriko exclaimed.

“Were you trying to give me a letter?”

Kiriko teleported behind Illari, trying to grab the letter back, but Illari blocked her with her own back while she opened the envelope.

“Ugh! Fine, just read it already.” Kiriko turned away, a little annoyed at how easily Illari had stopped her.

The envelope opened, and Illari unfolded the old sheet entirely written in Japanese. Her face twisted into an expression of confusion.

“I don’t know Japanese.”

“Look on the back.” Illari flipped the page. Kiriko’s handwriting was more polished than Illari had imagined. She skimmed quickly over the words, not paying much attention, just a general glance.
“Meditation?” she said after running her eyes over the page.

“Yeah… I thought you might be interested.”

“And why would I need this?”

“Meditation is really beneficial. Besides helping you understand yourself better, it improves concentration and helps you feel more at ease with yourself, you know.
…And, with all due respect, you’re a little too tense.”

“Too tense, huh?” Illari looked back at the sheet, still slightly indignant at what Kiriko had said.

“If you don’t want to try it, that’s fine, but… I always meditate before any fight, and it helps me focus on the battlefield.” Kiriko looked at her intently, as if she had played her strongest card. Illari just looked at the paper, then at Kiriko, and said:

“I’ll think about it.”

“So… yes?”

“I said I’ll think about it, Kiriko.”

“Okay, okay…”

“Good night.” Illari slipped the envelope into her pocket and entered her room without much ceremony. Kiriko didn’t even get a chance to say anything before the door slid shut right in front of her.

“Good night to you too,” she muttered, not intending for Illari to hear.

Just the fact that Illari had answered with an “I’ll think about it” and not the driest “No!” in the world already made at least a bit of the effort she’d spent translating the page worth it. Mission accomplished—she hopped back to her room, skipping happily through the corridors.

That was strange—Illari tossed the sheet onto her bed. She had just come back from a tiring mission. Everything had gone well, but the stress of a mission, along with the sun scorching her skin, was extremely exhausting.

The dark room now glowed with the string lights hanging around the ceiling, a lamp decorated with stars, and the yellow bathroom light—all of it creating a comfortable atmosphere. Illari had always preferred indirect lighting; it was almost like a post-mission ritual for her: switching on the little lights scattered around the room and taking a warm shower while listening to calm music.

The silence of the room was broken by Illari’s steps to the bathroom as she hummed the same song that soon began to play. Ay No Puedo by The Marías echoed in the bathroom in sync with the water running onto the shower floor—and then over Illari’s body.

Every day since that day in Illari’s life had felt tense, like a pressure crushing her every time she woke up. Each day was about being better, surpassing herself, as well as the fear that still haunted her—but that her pride tried to disguise. It was a screaming yet subtle presence inside her: a voice that always feared tomorrow, the past, and the present. The same voice that forbade her from opening up to the world around her.

That fear gripped her once more. Kiriko had been trying so hard to sneak past her mysterious way of living. Illari noticed her from afar, and this closeness could be dangerous. The fearful part of Illari screamed at her to just ignore the girl—but some buried part, deep within, remembered the smiling girl who talked about how much she liked donuts, karaoke, the movies, and seeing everyone in her town happy.

They shared the same dream, yet Kiriko still holds on to hope. Unlike Illari, whose hope was buried with the lilies of her city. Remembering Kiriko has a strange effect on Illari, something she doesn’t feel allowed to feel—a chill in her body, as if she were breaking some unspoken rule every time she talked with her. A thought that seems wrong, and yet at the same time so thrilling, like jumping out of a plane with a parachute. It’s desperate, confusing, and fills her body with the greatest rush of adrenaline. That’s how Illari feels whenever she’s near Kiriko.

The shower lets out a sharp sound as Illari shuts off the valve, the last drops falling before it stops completely. The music from the speaker can now be heard more clearly, no longer muffled by the screaming thoughts in her head or the warm water running from the shower. Everything feels so quiet now... Illari returns to her room with a towel wrapped around her hair, wearing a simple pink pajama, her flawless skin covered in a transparent lotion. The steam from the hot shower barely leaves the bathroom before she lies down on the bed, pulling Kiriko’s note from the sheets. She reads:

“Meditation is the art of painting your mind with emptiness, allowing your head to become a renewed space.”

Illari slightly twists her face at the cheesy phrase.

“To begin the process of meditation, follow these three initial steps:
1: Always try to keep your mind focused on the most important current goal.
2: Sleep for a long time, if possible.
3: Avoid any substance that may harm your focus or sleep.

With these three initial steps practiced for at least two weeks, you will be ready to begin attempting meditation with a high chance of success!

‘...With time, the practice will become easier to carry out, opening doors to new physical, mental, and spiritual abilities. The price of perfection is patience...’

P.S.: Think about it with care – Kiriko :)”

Illari smirks at the note left by Kiriko. She folds the page and tucks it back into the envelope. To her, it was utter nonsense, but the fact that Kiriko had suggested this method makes her reflect—maybe someone really does care about her… The thought evaporates with a shake of her head. Illari closes her eyes; the pillow has never felt so soft as it does now. With little effort, she falls asleep.

...

CRACK

One of the training room’s target plates shatters with a shot from Illari’s solar rifle. It’s a new day! A new mission awaits her right after lunch, and she warms up her aim before every mission.

Habits Illari acquired over the years, quirks that help her performance—she turns her weapon to the left when a faint orb of light is expelled from her hand. The orb quickly clings to the weapon’s glowing side, powering it up. Ready for more shots, she aims at the farthest and fastest targets possible. The weapon gradually glows until it releases a golden projectile that cuts its path straight into the center of one of the targets. The same happens with five more in the same row—accurate and precise shots.

Illari prepares to reload the weapon, quickly ready again for more critical hits. She aims at the first one, finger almost fully pressing the trigger, when the wind whistles at her side. Something faster than her eyes reaches the center of the target she was aiming at. She turns to see where the projectile came from... of course.

“Hey, kitty,” says the green-haired girl, spinning another kunai around her index finger.

“Kiriko.” Illari looks at her with a mixed feeling—Illari herself doesn’t really know what her gaze means. “You’re not even going to be in this mission. What are you doing here?”

“Just came to say hi, and… ask if you’ve thought about my proposal.”

“I… I read the page yesterday and—”

“What did you think??” Kiriko cuts Illari off.

“I… thought it was interesting, but I don’t know if I’m ready for all that.”

“Yeah… it’s tough at the beginning, but I promise it’ll be worth starting!”

“I’ll think about it.”

“All right. By the way… tomorrow is Genji’s birthday.”

“Ah, right? Happy cumpleaños to him—” Illari begins to turn back to try hitting the remaining targets.

“Yeah… and there’s going to be a party! And I was wondering… if you’d like to go with me. It’ll be at 6 p.m. on the rooftop, it’s a surprise! So shhh!”

“I think I’d better not,” Illari replies bluntly, hitting one of the targets as she speaks.

“Aw, come on, it’s going to be fun!”

“Kiriko, I don’t even really know Genji. We’re not even friends—it wouldn’t make sense for me to be there.” Illari sets the weapon down on the counter and walks toward a cabinet against the wall.

“He likes you! And you’d be going as my guest! Do this for me, please.” Kiriko follows Illari, trying to convince her.

“No.”

“Please!”

“No.”

“Please, with sprinkles on top!?”

“No, Kiriko.”

“Fine! Either way… the invitation still stands. I’d love to see you there.” Kiriko averts her gaze from Illari and starts fiddling with the solar rifle resting on the counter.

“Sorry, but you won’t. And take your hands off that!” Illari snatches the weapon back.

“Fine, good luck on your mission today.”

“Appreciate it.”

“I’m out.” Kiriko bursts away in a dazzling flash, leaving only blue particles behind.

“This room has doors—but NO, that’s too old-fashioned.”

“I DON’T NEED DOORS!” Kiriko’s voice comes muffled from the hallway through the training room’s glass, while Illari just rolls her eyes.

Illari and a reduced team were receiving one of the members of Satya’s group, the scientist Niran Pruksamanee. A field reconnaissance led by Captain Vivian Chase had brought Niran to one of the United States’ metropolises, New York, to study the possibility of implementing technologies based on Bioluz. At the same time, Talon — which had diverted Satya’s resources — was already watching the technology, and the efficiency of Bioluz was already in their sights.

“Can you hear me, Lacroix?” — the harsh, slender voice of O’Deorain crackled over Amelie’s communicator.
“Loud and clear.” One of the sniper’s eyes closed, the sight locked on the group accompanying Niran into the city center.
“Let’s finish this quickly,” a third voice came through the communicator — deep, thick, and booming.
“Reyes, be in position,” Moira said into the communicator.
“I could’ve done this alone already,” the man answered curtly.
“Shh! Silence,” Lacroix cut them both off.
“Remember — no harming the blond one,” O’Deorain finished before vanishing from the channel.

“I really think I can work on this. Satya told me it would be challenging, but I don’t see why — maybe with the structures she’s planning, it’ll be much easier,” Niran said, pointing toward some buildings as he surveyed the city.
“How long do you think we could start construction?” Chase asked.
“I’d say… one or two years.”
“Great. We need to resume the fight against possible new threats now more than ever — this silence from Null Sector is suspicious.”

---

“In sight, on your signal,” Amelie said into the comms, until the static was interrupted by a voice right behind her.
“What are we looking at?” Sloan appeared. Lacroix leapt, pulling herself up with her grappling hook to another rooftop. “We’ve got company!” Chase heard through the communicator.
“Now!” Amelie shouted to Reyes as soon as she landed near an air vent on another rooftop.

“What’s the situation, Venture?” Vivian responded to the call over comms. Illari gripped her rifle tighter while scanning the surroundings. Niran stayed alert.
“Found one. Looks like there are more… keep an eye on them!”
“Good… we’ve hit a setback. Quispe, take the doctor to the ship and wait there, understood?”
“Yes, captain,” Illari replied promptly as she moved to Niran’s side. Vivian slid across the asphalt and leapt into a more favorable position.
“Please, come with me,” Illari said to Niran as she guided him through the streets.
“Of course! But… won’t they need our help?”
“…Your… your safety is the priority.” The two made their way through the metropolis, Illari cautiously scanning the area for any movement.

Amelie’s nearly inaudible breathing followed Venture’s footsteps as they approached her current hiding spot. With a jump to the right, Amelie fired a shot that grazed Sloan. Immediately, with the force of the drill, they;  launched toward Amelie, nearly striking her as she narrowly escaped using her grappling hook. As soon as she landed, her weapon gave a clicking sound before unleashing a burst of shots that chased Sloan to the ventilation fan of the rooftop. Hidden just behind it, Sloan planned their next move.

As soon as Vivian hears the gunfire coming from the distance, her eyes narrow and her ears try to catch any sound close to her.
With heavy boots, two shotguns, and a dark mist, Reyes appears behind Vivian.
“Right here,” the voice thunders and fires two shots toward Vivian, who dodges by jumping away with the jets of her boots while shooting a series of bullets in Reyes’ direction.

To the north, Illari and Niran were on their way to the aircraft.
“So… how long have you been in Overwatch?” Niran breaks the awkward silence.
“…not very long.” Illari still watches every inch of the environment.
“Sorry for the question but… you are Illari, right? From Runasapi.” Illari’s body freezes.
“…”
“Well, I heard about you… I hope everything is fine now, that you have found peace.” She only clenches her teeth in silence, the conversation then left aside when suddenly sounds of gunfire echo from the distance.
“Oh… don’t you think they need help?”
“…they… will be fine… but for safety let’s go through the underground.” Illari breaks away from the path previously taken, and descends into one of the subway stations along with Niran.

“Take care of them, I’ll go after what matters to us,” Moira says into the communicator, only watching from afar as Illari and Niran enter the underground. Her physical form shifts into a dark purple mist and vanishes.

“I didn’t know New York was so… messy,” Niran says while watching a pile of trash being dragged by a rat.
“Shh! I heard something…” Illari cuts him off. She had indeed heard something, coming from the other side of the platform. A shadow appears to the sound of the subway echoing from the end of the tunnel, a shadow that materializes into O’Deorain. Illari and Niran watch the apparition for only a moment before it is covered by the loud train rushing past at high speed.
“This way!” Illari pulls Niran toward one of the station’s emergency exits. The door bursts open abruptly, and the two of them move through the corridors, their loud footsteps echoing everywhere. Illari, tense, tries to keep focused. They pass one, two, three doors until they reach the side of the subway track.
“Quick, this way!” Not really knowing where she is going, Illari guides Niran toward another door a few meters ahead. Illari opens the trackside door for Niran, who steps into one last corridor, while she scans the surroundings before following him in—when the door slams shut abruptly.
“Huh… doctor?”
“Illari! It’s stuck!”
“I’ll find another way out!”
“You can say that as many times as you want, child.”
Illari’s spine stiffens at O’Deorain’s voice echoing through the tunnel. Her weapon is cocked once again as she makes small turns with her head, scanning the environment around her.
“You know there’s only one way out of your pain,” the voice continues.
“Who’s there?!”
“Someone who wants to help you.”
“Show yourself!”
“You’re stronger than you think, girl, but you’re still trapped in this ridiculous version of yourself. Don’t you wish to be stronger? More capable… maybe even… forget your past?”
“You don’t know anything about me!”
“Bet I do… the world knows.”
“….” Illari furrows her brows as she swings her weapon in all directions.
“That’s why… how about… you help me with this. That way, I can make you… stronger… and stronger… and stronger.” The voice grows more “tangible,” giving Illari a direction to look. Along with it, the rumble of another subway shakes the rails. Illari can now see Moira walking slowly toward her, illuminated by the distant headlight.
“I won’t fall for this!” Illari’s marks shine along with her eyes. Her power unleashes a shot from her rifle, bursting into sparks that scatter toward Moira, lighting the surroundings. Before the sunlight could pierce through Moira’s darkness, she vanishes in a blur. The train’s bright headlights approach Illari closer each second, nearly blinding her sight, but before anything could happen, her body is pulled from the ground, a weightless sensation yanking her away from the convoy. Almost reaching the bubble that surrounds her, she is being pulled by Niran. From a distance, his biolight techniques drag her toward another emergency door, just a few meters away from the jammed one. Illari lands safely just in time for Niran to pull her inside the corridor. The sound of the passing train shakes the whole place and soon fades away, echoing only in the distance.
“What…” Illari looks at Niran, confused.
“You don’t have to do everything alone, you know?” Niran flashes a charming smile.
“I…” the girl rises to her feet, still dazed.

“Hm, what a shame.” Moira reappears far from the station, brushing off a few scorched pieces of her clothes. “We’ll have more opportunities in the future…” the communicator hisses.

“Let’s pull back, we’ll have other ways of getting our hands on that technology.” Moira’s voice comes through to both Talon agents, still stalling Venture and Sojourn, who manage to throw them off during the fight. Chase still tries to reach Gabriel, who fires at part of her legs, damaging the structure. Venture manages to ruin Amélie’s aim, and she escapes, still furious.

Illari and Niran wait at the ship when Vivian and Venture arrive. Chase, with part of her robotic legs destroyed—loose wires and scraps of metal sticking out—walks with a limp, supported by Sloan.

Back at the Overwatch base, Lena, Winston, and Doctor Ziegler take care of the final details for Genji’s party.

“More to the side!… no no no, left!… my left!”
“Come on, Angela, it’s already fine!” exclaims Winston, hanging from a stepladder as he adjusts a large banner reading Happy Birthday Genji in emerald green letters.
“Yeah, that looks good enough,” Lena adds.
“No, no, it all has to be perfect! Just… a little more to the left, and it’ll be good!”
The two of them shift the banner slightly and clip it to the palm trees at the entrance of the terrace.
“There! Perfect!”
“Ugh, finally.” Lena hops down three steps from the ladder and leaps the rest, then in two blinks of speed dashes toward the entrance, bumping into Kiriko just as she’s walking in.
“Oops, sorry Kamori!”
“Hi, Lena!” Kiriko greets her before Lena vanishes through the door in another blink.

Kiriko takes in the hard work of Angela, Lena, and Winston, all preparing Genji’s party: a huge table filled with sweets and savory snacks of every kind, both alcoholic and sugary drinks, disposable plates and cups, and a two-layer vanilla cake decorated with green dragons and swords—something that would fit right into a children’s birthday party—sitting proudly in the center of the table. Beyond that, the newly hung banner catches her eye as it welcomes everyone to an improvised dance floor with a bright lime-green DJ set surrounded by quality speakers. Everything is bathed in green lights with low opacity, giving the place its glow.

For her final stop, Kiriko focuses more closely on the table of appetizers.
“Donuts!” she exclaims upon noticing the dazzling, multicolored donuts neatly arranged by flavor. “Well, nobody’s gonna miss just one…” Her hand sneaks toward the nearest strawberry donut. She can practically taste the sugar crystals bursting in her mouth—

TAP

“Ow!”
“Not yet, Kamori! The party hasn’t even started!” Angela appears beside her, smacking her sneaky hand away.
“Aw, come on!” Kiriko complains.
“Not now—go help Lúcio set up the sound!”
“Fine, fine, I’ll go. Not because you told me to, but because I like Lúcio!” Her voice fades as she walks away from Angela.

The ship cuts through one of the clouds in the orange-gradient sky as it returns from another mission.
Illari sits on one of the couches near the exit door, staring at a sheet of paper resting on the table in front of her. The way the wind pushes and pulls the page back to the same spot is hypnotic. She focuses only on the tiny details around her, distracted by the thoughts in her mind, barely noticing her surroundings.

Niran and Venture are trying to land the basketball right in the middle of the hoop, while Chase is distracted, adjusting the mechanisms in her leg. Her distraction doesn’t last long—only until Venture eventually approaches Illari.
“Hi!”
“Uh… hi.”
“Cool weapon—a solar weapon, right? Classic of the Inti warriors! I always wanted to learn more about them. When I found out there was an Inti warrior alive in Overwatch, I couldn’t contain my excitement.” Illari feels a bit stunned by what she just heard.
“…” Venture sits down beside her.
“Do you mind?” They point at the weapon.
“You can take a look…”
“Awesome!” Venture holds the weapon with the greatest care, as if it were made of glass. They run a hand across it, admiring every detail of the equipment. “She’s beautiful!”
“Thank you. I… I try to take good care of her… you know, polish her from time to time.”
“Then you did a great job!… Oh, and you can call me Sloan.”
“Sloan, nice. I’m—”
“Illari, right?” Sloan cuts her off before she can finish.
“Yes.”
“Pleasure to meet you! I wanted to talk to you before, but… Doctor Ziegler forbade me from asking you about your people… so… we never had this conversation!” they whisper to Illari. “By the way, I’ve got this extra, and I want you to have it.”

They start rummaging through a pocket, their hand dancing inside the coat until pulling out a colorful bracelet decorated with shining little stones.
“A friendship bracelet! Because you’re the living story of an entire nation!”
“Wow, I… did you make this?”

“Yes! These little stones here, I got them from a local excavation in Canada—Tiger’s Eye,
jadeite, a green quartz, and what was left of a crystal! I tried not to make the bracelet too heavy, but… you know how it is, stones haha!” Illari stares at Sloan, intrigued by the topic. They remind her of Kiriko in that way—talking about so many things at once.
“It’s really pretty, but… what if I lose it? Or… it breaks?”
“Well… then I’ll have a reason to make another one! After all, I’ve got thousands of these little stones back in my room, so relax!” Venture leaves the bracelet with Illari, gives a small wave with a smile that shows chipped teeth, and walks off toward Vivian.
“…thank you.” Illari squeezes the bracelet in her hand. She starts to look around, and suddenly Kiriko comes to her mind. Kiriko is always pushing Illari toward others, always trying to make her overcome her fear of relationships. Illari can’t quite imagine why that is, but despite everything, maybe it isn’t the seven-headed monster she thinks it is… Her eyes drift away from her hand holding the bracelet and scan the room. Everyone is laughing together at Niran’s joke. Maybe she wants to be part of that. Maybe she wants to feel like she belongs. Maybe she wants to smile the way everyone else does.

Kiriko sets her feet down at the edge of the dance floor.
Fweee! Kiriko whistles in admiration as she takes a better look at the place. “Nice work here, Lúcio.”
“Ha, you came early! I thought you’d show up with the others!” His dreads sway behind the DJ set while he adjusts something Kiriko can’t quite make out.
“Eeeand, done! All set!” He pops out from behind the DJ set with a wide grin on his face.
“Whoa! You really dressed up, Kiriko!”
“Ha, thanks. You’re looking pretty good yourself.” Kiriko starts walking toward him.

His neatly kept dreads go perfectly with the green cargo shorts and black polo shirt, finished off with a silver chain. In contrast, Kiriko wears black-and-red leggings that cut off at her shins, a white top, and an oversized dark-blue floral jacket. Around her neck hang two delicate necklaces with sparkling stones, matching the earrings that shimmer in the green lights of the room.

“All ready?” she asks.
“Yeah, everything’s set,” Lúcio replies, showing off the sound setup. “I just… need to pick a track for the entrance. Since you know Genji better than I do, why don’t you suggest one?”
“Hmm, let me think…” Kiriko presses her finger to the tip of her chin, deep in thought. She’s never heard Genji talk about music to her, never really reveal what kind of taste he has.

Until her memory digs up a scene that happened between the two of them when she had just joined Overwatch. Genji had lent Kiriko a few things, and she went to return them to his room. When she simply walked in, she saw the headphones lying on his bed, still playing music.

“I remember one he likes.”
“Shoot!”
“Put on Nagisa… the artist is…”
“Imase?”
“That’s the one!”
“Perfect! I didn’t know he liked bubblegum pop.”
“Deep down, everyone does.”
“You’re right.”

The speakers thump with the bassline of the song, and soon the place takes on a whole new vibe, more alive with music. Kiriko distracts herself with a little dance while Lúcio nods along, queuing up more tracks to play next.

“Perfect, we’re done here.”
“Great!”

The two step away from the DJ set and sit on one of the benches near the dance floor. The music fades into the background. Kiriko still bobs her head discreetly to the rhythm.

“Lúcio,” she breaks the silence.
“Yeah?”
“You’re the person I know who’s best at lifting someone’s spirits… like, you’ve got this contagious energy.”
“That’s what a lot of people say, so it must be true!”
“How do you convince someone to have fun?… what’s your method?”
“Haha, tough question… I don’t know. I just bring them along, you know? It’s natural.”
“I try that way, but it doesn’t seem to work.”
“Hmm… this is about Illari, isn’t it?”
“What?… no.” Kiriko fakes a confused face, trying to cover the lie.
“Come on, Kiriko, you can’t lie. Everybody knows it, I bet even she does.”
“Aaah! It’s hard, okay? She’s difficult. I invited her to the party, and she just… just said no. And everything I try with her feels blocked, you know? Like she’s pushing me away. Like she’s afraid to have fun, or… afraid of people.”
“I think you should give her time. Illari’s one of the biggest mysteries in this base. How she reacts to you is always a surprise. The fact you’ve gotten this far with her is something very few can be proud of. Nobody’s as persistent as you, Kiriko. If she hasn’t cut your head off yet, it’s because you’ve got something that hits her weak spot. If you really want to help her come out of that cocoon… give her time. Always be there for her, but, you know, let her take small steps. Then, when she’s finally good with you, that’s when you go and tell her how you feel.”
“WHAT?! No!… shut up.” Kiriko smacks Lúcio’s shoulder with a weak punch. “Who are you trying to fool?” Lúcio just laughs. “But… I think you’re right. I just wish it were easier.”
“Well, it’s something you can’t control!”
“Lúcio!” Angela’s voice echoes from the terrace.
“Oops! They need me. Later, Kiri!” He gets up and ruffles Kiriko’s hair lightly as he crosses the dance floor.
“Coming, Doc!”

“I just wanted a donut right now…” Kiriko’s face sinks into a sulky pout as she stays seated.

After a few hours, night falls along with the ship landing in Overwatch’s base hangar. The team disembarks and is greeted by a group of agents who are accompanying Vivian and Niran. Illari steps off shortly after, alongside Venture.

“Oh, by the way, there’s going to be a party on the terrace tonight. I think it’s someone’s birthday… you should come!”— Sloan keeps the conversation going.

“Ah, yeah, I heard about it, but I don’t thi—” Illari stops herself before finishing the sentence. A “why not?” rises within her thoughts, forcing her to reroute her words. “…maybe I’ll show up.”

“Great! Then maybe I’ll see you there!”— Venture waves goodbye with another smile.

The conversation between her and Sloan turned out smoother than Illari had imagined. They asked about Inti festivities and artifacts, and Illari explained every detail without even dwelling on the loss of all that history. Venture seemed fascinated with everything Illari shared. What Sloan had said earlier lingered in her mind— “you are living history.” Carrying the weight of an entire nation’s memory is no small burden. Even if the memories sometimes make her shiver, not every flower has thorns.

Few minutes later
On the terrace, the party is already filling up with the recent arrivals. Ana Amari and Reinhardt stand together, chatting near the entrance. Just beside them, Cassidy tells a joke to Hanzo and Jack Morrison, both answering with faint chuckles. Angela is still rushing back and forth, putting together the last details of the celebration. Near the snack table, Juno and Sloan are laughing at something, while Lúcio—who had been helping Angela—now chats with Hana by the entrance.

“Whoa, even you came, big guy!”— Kiriko exclaims when she notices Bastion, Overwatch’s friendly robot. He only answers with cheerful beeps.

“He says he couldn’t miss this celebration!”— Echo translates, holding an empty disposable cup in her hand. Kiriko notices she occasionally lifts it to her face, as if she were sipping something from it.

“Ha, you came too!”

“I love human celebrations.”

“I want to see you break up the dance floor!”

“Wouldn’t that be… inconvenient? Considering Dr. Ziegler spent hours preparing everything?”

“I meant like… tear it up dancing, you know? Shake that… exoskeleton?” Kiriko clarifies.
“Ah, I see! Cassidy told me he’s going to teach me some dance moves!”
“Awesome! See you two out there then!”
“We’ll be there!” Echo replies cheerfully, Bastion adding a robotic whistle.

Kiriko drifts away from them as the hall keeps filling up. Everyone who had been lingering by the snack table begins making their way to the dance floor. She slips into Sloan and Juno’s conversation as the two are the last ones leaving the entrance.

“Yah!” she blurts, throwing her arms over their shoulders as they walk together.
“Oh, hey Kiriko!” Sloan greets.
“Hello!” Juno adds right after.
“This party is incredibly incredible.”
“Angela is a master of organization… sometimes a little too much,” Kiriko comments.
“I just really want that cake. It looks flawless,” Venture says with eyes half-closed. Kiriko understands perfectly; both the cake and the donuts feel like they’ve been calling her name all night.
“Be patient, Sloan! The birthday boy has to arrive first.”
“Speaking of which, where is he?” Sloan asks. Both Juno and Kiriko just shrug.
“Maybe he’s off playing ninja-slays-Godzilla-and-saves-the-city in his room again.” Kiriko chuckles.

Before Sloan and Juno can react, a deafening noise bursts from the dance floor: a loud microphone screech followed by Lúcio’s voice booming through the speakers.

“Good evening, everyone!” The crowd answers in unison with a loud “Good evening!”
“Right now, our dear Dr. Ziegler is in the Overwatch dorm hallway bringing in our beloved birthday boy!” The crowd cheers, clapping and hollering. “And with this camera here, we’ll see him arriving live! So when he walks through that door, everybody shout ‘Surprise!’ Got it??” The chorus replies with an enthusiastic “Yesss!”

As he speaks, a screen above the DJ set flickers on, showing the hallway camera: Genji and Angela walking toward the terrace door.

…
“So, what’s so interesting out here?” Genji asks.
“The moon looks beautiful! I just want to show you.”
“You could have just taken a picture.”
“Ugh, you’re such a pain. Trust me, you’ll love it!”

The two approach the terrace door. Inside, silence roars across the party as everyone waits. Then, the door swings open—

“Surprise!!”

The shout erupts in a mix of low, high, and singing voices. Genji jumps, startled, then breaks into a confused smile as he takes in the entire terrace full of people. From behind the DJ set, Lúcio shouts into the mic:

“Happy Birthday, Genjiiii!!” and upbeat music floods the speakers.

“Wow! What’s all this?” Genji turns to Angela, who only gives him a warm, genuine smile.

“Your party, silly!” A shower of people rushes toward him. Angela gives the crowd a little push, and a jumble of “Happy birthday!”, “Congrats!” and laughter floods Genji’s personal space. Cassidy grabs him from behind and ruffles his shiny green hair. Hanzo greets him with a serious nod. Reinhardt squeezes his shoulder firmly while laughing. Hana, full of energy, tries to spark up a conversation with him.

“Thank you so much, everyone! I wasn’t expecting all this!” he says as he slips free from the crowd.
“You deserve it.” Angela gives him a quick wink.

As the crowd thins, Kiriko comes up to him.
“Happy birthday, Genji!”
“Kiriko! Thanks. You’re behind this, aren’t you?”
“Uh… I suggested the donuts!”
“We all put this together—me, Lena, Winston, and Kiriko,” Angela adds.
“Thank you so much, really,” Genji says, looking at Angela.

“What are you all standing around for? Get on the floor, the party’s just getting started!” Lúcio shouts into the mic.

At that moment, the music switches to Let It Happen by Tame Impala. The whole crowd moves toward the dance floor; a few linger behind at the snack table. The bright lights dim, leaving only green beams over the floor, plus the little lamps shining over the food. And with that, the party begins…

Kiriko fills both hands with three donuts each, watching everyone dance. Genji shows off a weird routine that looks like some choreography he already knew. Angela just sways her arms and legs to the rhythm, laughing at his moves. Cassidy dances impressively well right in front of Hanzo, while the Shimada brother only taps his foot from side to side. Echo copies Hana’s steps, and Bastion goes full-on robot dance in front of Vivian Chase, who only chuckles while chatting with Morrison at the edge of the floor. Lena bounces all around, giving her all. Winston swings his hands and feet with the beat. Venture is busy teaching Juno how to do the hula. 

The donuts Kiriko stuffs into her mouth coat her tongue with the taste of cheap sugar and chocolate covered in sprinkles—honestly, she couldn’t be happier. Cheap fun is exactly her thing. Her eyes sweep over the terrace, until in her peripheral vision, the entrance door swings open.

A wavy ponytail tied with a ribbon bounces into the room, followed by glinting yellow earrings, a striped white crop top, a long black ruffled skirt, thick-soled black boots, bracelets, and the visible markings on her arms.

Illari steps into the terrace.

Kiriko stares at her.

Dazzling beneath the entrance light, Illari steps through the door. Kiriko’s eyes shimmer blue the very moment she sees her, leaving her nearly unable to react. Illari, on the other hand, scans the crowd, hunting for any sign of Kiriko. Her timid gaze dances across the room, taking in each detail of the decorations.

Kiriko lifts her hand and calls out:
“Illari!”

The sound comes muffled under the music, yet somehow Illari seems to hear it clearly. She looks directly at Kiriko, a shy smile blossoming across both their faces.

“You came!” Kiriko says as soon as they are far enough from the music to actually speak.
“I did,” Illari answers, still carrying a note of hesitation.
“And you look… wow!” Kiriko compliments, her eyes trying not to linger on Illari’s arms—arms earned through long hours of grueling training. Kiriko finds herself hypnotized not only by their strength but also by the glowing markings she had never seen before, softly shimmering under the terrace’s dim light.
“Thank you… you look beautiful too.”

Kiriko blushes at the compliment before quickly changing the subject.
“Are you hungry? There’s still a ton of food left.”
“I’m fine, thank you.”

The moment feels oddly strange, as if the two had never exchanged a single word before. A thin layer of awkwardness fills the silence between them—until Lúcio’s voice cuts through the music.

“Alright, folks! We’re only just getting started here. The night is still young! And to kick things off, let’s all sing a big happy birthday for our guest of honor!”

Scattered claps echo from the crowd, and Lúcio continues:
“And after that… we’re gonna smash this beauty right here!”

He pulls something from behind the DJ set, and a piñata descends majestically, suspended on a hook in the middle of the dance floor.

A chorus of congratulations breaks out, quickly blending into a birthday song. Angela nudges Genji into the center of the floor. He hides his hands, glancing between the piñata and the crowd, clapping awkwardly in time. During the song, Illari claps gently like everyone else, while Kiriko shouts the lyrics with full force. Genji joins in the clapping, embarrassed but smiling as the celebration swells around him.

When the birthday chorus ends, Lúcio speaks again into the mic:
“And before the piñata, Genji—you’ve got to decide who gets the very first slice of cake! Remember, this is a sacred tradition where I come from. Choose carefully!”

Kiriko knows this one well. On her twentieth birthday, Lúcio had explained how, in Brazil, it’s customary to give the first slice of cake to the person you like the most—or the one you think deserves it. Everyone had loved the tradition and decided to adopt it for every party afterward.

“Alright, fine,” Genji says, holding a plate with a generous slice of cake.
“Hmm… I think I already know who deserves it—for putting together this amazing party for me!” He looks toward Angela. She smiles warmly.
“Decision made! No going back now!” Lúcio teases, making the crowd laugh.
“Thank you for everything,” Genji says, handing the slice to Angela. “…Now can I smash that piñata?”

He looks to the crowd for approval, and they erupt with cheers.

Angela takes a bite of the cake as Lena spins Genji around ten times and Winston hands him the bat.

"Why can’t I use my sword?" Genji asks.
"Because someone would leave here missing an eye!" Angela laughs, and everyone joins in.
"Alright then!" Lúcio says as Lena positions him with his back to the piñata. Everyone steps back. "Ready, Shimada?"
"Yes!"
"SMASH THAT DINOSAUR!" Lúcio cheers, and the crowd erupts…
"Good thing they didn’t use a llama…" Illari breaks the silence between her and kiriko.
"Yeah, that wouldn’t have made sense!"
"Well… there’s that too…" Illari prefers not to explain further.

"Psst!" Kiriko nudges Illari with her elbow. Illari turns. "Hana filled that piñata with pink powder! Once he hits it, he’s gonna need forever to get his clothes back to normal!" Kiriko giggles, and Illari lets a small smile slip.

And just like that, Genji swings the bat three times before finally hitting the piñata. It bursts into confetti, candy, and a cloud of pink powder all over his clothes. He rips off the blindfold, confused, as the crowd roars with laughter—Hana a little louder than the rest.
"Okay, yeah, very funny!" Genji says while wiping his face. Angela walks up to him, still laughing.
"Come on, let’s go wash this off." She hides her chuckles while walking with him off the dance floor.

Seizing the moment of chaos, Lúcio spins the next track. Kids by MGMT blasts from the speakers, the party vibe reignites—lights, loud music, chatter, and contagious euphoria.

"So…" Kiriko looks mischievously at Illari, extending her hand. "Wanna dance?"

The sudden question catches Illari off guard. A thought races through her mind, urging her to run from all this, whispering that it’s a terrible idea, that regret could be avoided right here. But Kiriko’s brown eyes sparkle before her, and her slender fingers stretch toward her, calling her into the unknown. Illari’s hand rises almost on its own and brushes against Kiriko’s. Her whole body flows with the party’s euphoria, that strange rush—like breaking some unspoken rule. Kiriko’s fingers press against hers, sealing the surrender of years of self-contained solitude. At least, that’s how it explodes in her mind.

Kiriko pulls her onto the dance floor. Their hands slip apart as Kiriko spins on her heels, arms swaying—a playful interpretation of the music in motion. Illari, still frozen, follows her with her gaze until their eyes meet again.
"Come on!" Kiriko says, tugging Illari’s arm.
"I don’t know how to do this." Illari rolls her eyes shyly.
"You don’t need to know! Just… feel it!"

Kiriko moves closer, grabs both her hands, and spins her around. The dance floor lights explode into green rays across Illari’s vision, as Kiriko guides her into the rhythm.
"KIRIKO!" Illari shouts, still dizzy.
"Let’s go! You just need to let loose!" Kiriko pulls her closer to be heard over the music.

Little by little, Illari is swept away by Kiriko’s rhythm. She’s pulled, lifted, and shaken as the others on the floor blur into shadows. For a fleeting moment, she longs to follow this whirlwind of sensations, so loud and untamed. She closes her eyes—the flashing green lights still flickering behind her eyelids—and feels her whole body moving, carried by waves of sound and light that pour from her ears into her mind, painting the darkness with streaks of freedom as her muscles release.

Her eyes slowly open again, catching the glimmer of the party around her. The music fades to a muffled echo, leaving only her own breath pounding in her chest. She looks at Kiriko, swaying to the beat, jacket tied at her waist, loose hair whipping side to side, eyes narrowed by a playful smile. For an instant, she seems to shine in the crowd.

The two take a break from the dance floor and head over to the snack table near the entrance.
“Uff, I’m tired!” Kiriko says while filling her cup with punch.
“Already? Weakling,” Illari teases in a dry, sarcastic tone. Kiriko turns her head to her, shocked by the remark.
“Oh, I’m the weak one!?”
“I’m not the one who got knocked down in under a minute in a match,” Illari finishes, taking a sip of punch.
“Ha! You can only say that after our rematch!”
“Just say the time and place.”
“…I’ll let you know when my schedule opens up…” Kiriko dodges.
“This Friday?”
“Yeah… not gonna work.” It’s not that Kiriko doesn’t think she can handle it—she just feels she needs to understand Illari better first. Illari has something others don’t: she can read Kiriko far too well, even more than Kiriko herself realizes.
“Oh yeah? I bet you’re taking your dog for a walk that day.”
“My… what? Oh!—geez.” Kiriko laughs. “It’s not a dog.”
“Well, it looks like one,” Illari mutters awkwardly. “What then… a wolf?”
“Yeah… you know what, just for you, it can be a wolf!”
“Fine…” Illari, still a little confused, raises her cup again.
“And you? Do you have a dog… or a cat?” Kiriko tries to break the ice.
“Actually, I have a… llama. Chuño!”
“What! Seriously? Your room must be huge then!” Illari chuckles at Kiriko’s innocence.
“No no, he’s… back in Peru. I thought it’d be better to leave him there when I came to Overwatch. The fresh mountain air will be better for him.”
“Ah, I see…” Kiriko sets her empty cup down on the snack table—just as the music cuts and a new track begins. As soon as she hears the opening notes, she spins toward the dance floor. YMCA blasts from the speakers.
“THIS SONG! Come on, let’s dance!” Kiriko grabs Illari and pulls her onto the floor. Illari, still confused, lets herself be dragged along.

The song fills the room as everyone around them moves, dancing the choreography. From the DJ set above, Lúcio hypes the crowd and guides the dance.
“Like this! Y-M-C-A!” Kiriko shouts, teaching Illari the moves, pausing to demonstrate.
“I think I got it…” both of them yell, trying to hear each other over the music.

It’s fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A!
It’s fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A!
They have everything for young men to enjoy
You can hang out with all the boys
Y.M.C.A., it’s fun to stay at the
Y.M.C.A!

The music takes over the space. Everyone dances together, Illari still struggling to keep up but slowly warming to it, laughing again and again at Kiriko’s boundless energy. The party rolls on with more hits: Village People, Michael Jackson, The Chi-Lites, The Police, and many others—each song a soundtrack to the night’s chaos. Cassidy chugs three bottles of beer in a row. Kiriko and Genji crush it in a limbo contest. Dance circles form, Echo ending one routine with a perfect split. Lúcio leaves the DJ booth to show off professional-level moves. Karaoke moments erupt too: Winston and Lena singing Everybody Wants to Rule the World, Cassidy and Baptiste belting the chorus of Roxanne with all their soul, and Reinhardt bellowing Careless Whisper into the mic.

Illari also witnessed smaller, curious moments, like Juno trying the *Coxinhas* Lúcio always made for everyone’s birthdays.

“It’s delicious! The best thing I’ve ever eaten!” She had said the same thing about five other foods she had been offered. Sloan had also shown up, asking about birthdays in her community, but Illari kept dodging the topic, giving short, final answers. Meanwhile, Kiriko was dancing to Funkytown alongside Juno. For Illari, it all felt unreal — having had so much fun in just a few hours there. Kiriko was always at her side, pulling her into everything the party had to offer. It was the first time she ever played limbo. And even though she constantly felt like everyone was judging her, Kiriko’s presence made it all seem less strange.

…

The party was already over. The snack table was almost empty, a few balloons no longer floating as high as before. Lucio was packing away the last of his equipment from the stage, Lena and Winston were picking up things scattered around the dance floor, and Genji was helping Angela take down the huge banner that read “Happy Birthday Genji.” Just by the night breeze, one could tell it was late into the early hours. Illari felt that breeze as she gazed at the sea breaking into waves out on the horizon — waves that warped the reflection of the full moon as they moved. She took a deep breath, contemplating the scene.

“Donuts!! These are the last ones!” Kiriko’s voice appeared, slightly hoarse from all the partying. She held two donuts covered in rainbow sprinkles, extending one to Illari.

“Thank you.”

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I always come here when I can’t sleep.”

“I think I understand why.”

“It’s peaceful, cold, calm… like I’m meditating, except… with my eyes open.”

“I thought about that talk we had, about meditation.” Kiriko perked up at the phrase — she had almost forgotten that silly plan she had made. As much as she wanted to understand why Illari kept appearing in her thoughts, it would sound crazy to think that the only way to find an answer was through Illari herself, not from within.

“Ah, tsk, forget about it. I mean, I thought it might be something good for you, you know? Don’t feel like you’re obliged to try.”

“I know. I just meant… it was very kind of you. And maybe I’ll give it a try…” Illari’s gaze drifted away from Kiriko.

“Cool! I promise you won’t regret it… well, if you actually try.”

"Today was nice," Illari blurts out suddenly.

"...I’m glad you had fun." Kiriko smiles.

"Thank you for inviting me."

"Thank you for coming." The two exchange glances after the words. Kiriko squishes her face into a tender smile, and Illari answers with a discreet one of her own.

"I’ve also been thinking about… you know… going out more." Illari stares at her own boots.

"Really? Like, cheap fun?" Kiriko’s pupils almost turn into stars at the sound of it, her face lighting up with excitement. "Then you’re in good hands! I’m the queen of cheap fun — karaoke, arcades, clubs, amusement parks, clothing shops, fast food, I know so many places!"

"...Surprise me." Illari laughs mischievously, knocking the side of her left boot against the right.

"Are you challenging me?!"

"Maybe…" Illari looks back at Kiriko with the same smile.

"You’re going to swallow those words with chocolate donuts! You’ll drown in so much fun."

"We’ll see…" Illari truly enjoys this game between her and Kiriko. In the end, the cheap fun is already there — teasing the girl. Even though she’s still slightly puzzled by this endless chess match between them, it’s become her favorite pastime whenever they’re together.

They stay for hours more, talking. Everyone else leaves — Lucio, Angela, Genji, Lena, and Winston — leaving the terrace as it was before. They say their goodbyes to the girls and exit the hall. The two remain lost in conversation, not even realizing how time passes, Kiriko listing all the activities she wants to do with Illari: movies, clothing stores, cosmetics, arcades. At some point, Kiriko asks for Illari’s number. The girl pulls an old phone from her pocket, the screen already cracked, little star stickers on the back. She doesn’t use it often, so she doesn’t really care much about it. Something inside tells her that things are about to change from now on — though even she doesn’t know how.

To Kiriko, it feels like sunlight can be felt even at night.

Rayando el sol
Desesperación
Es más fácil llegar al sol que tu corazón

Chapter Text

# Act 2 – Stop and smell the flowers.

BZZ… BZZ… BZZ

The phone vibrates on the nightstand. Illari slowly opens her eyes, still disoriented, sits up, and grabs the phone. The cracked smartphone screen shows, between the fractured lines, the recently acquired number of Kiriko Kamori calling her, just above an ignored alarm.  
“Oh my god!” Illari throws the blanket off herself quickly, darting from the bed to the bathroom. The phone is left resting on the pillow as the bathroom door opens and slams shut.

“Come on, pick up…” Kiriko waits for Illari right in front of the meeting room. In a few minutes, the plan devised by Captain Chase and Niran would be presented, and the city of New York would receive the prototype of the Trees of Life—a technology patented by Niran that uses Biolight to care for the health of living beings nearby. Besides being great for landscaping, they would also serve as tests for Dr. Vaswani’s eventual intervention in infrastructure to help contain attacks from the Null Sector.

 
“Missed call”
The message appears on Kiriko’s phone screen. She taps her foot while checking the time.  
“We’ll start in five minutes,” Chase announces over the microphone.  
“Come on, where are you?” Kiriko mutters to herself as she calls Illari again.

“Where did I leave it…” Back in the bedroom, Illari is already in her uniform while desperately searching for her pylon. Illari is rarely late—she makes a point of being punctual and taking briefing meetings seriously—but she went to bed extremely late because of Genji’s party the night before.  “Ah, here it is.” Pulling it from one of the drawers, she takes the pylon and clips it to her belt. A few steps later, she runs toward the meeting room.

“Good morning, everyone,” Vivian cuts through the murmuring in the packed meeting room. Kiriko, still outside, glances down the hallway one last time before entering.

…

“Well, before anything else, I’d like to introduce everyone here to Dr. Niran Pruksamanee.”  
“A pleasure to meet you all. I recognize some of you from yesterday’s party, but it’s good that we’re finally being properly introduced.”  
“As you all know, Niran will be accompanying us during this testing phase with his technology so that we can later receive Satya and her team. Please, Pruksamanee.”  
“Thank you, Vivian. Well, the technology in question is made of Biolight—a beautiful, discreet, and effective way to keep life functioning. I present to you the Trees of Life!” He pulls away a cloth that had been covering a board filled with detailed presentations of the technology. “The trees will be strategically positioned around cities. They’ll be part of residents’ daily lives and will be perfectly suited to dealing with large numbers of injured people during conflicts with the Null Sector. The way they work is simple—the leaves…”

As Niran speaks, the meeting room door opens, drawing the attention of some in the audience. Illari quietly slips in beside Kiriko, who looks at her with a smile.  
“Oh—Hola, Illari!” Niran waves warmly at the girl, who awkwardly waves back.  
“Quiet,” Illari says firmly as Kiriko opens her mouth to say something. Kiriko obeys. In the background, Niran continues explaining the plan alongside Chase while Illari sinks into her chair.

…

“And I was thinking—how about this Saturday I take you shopping? Buy some things at the mall, maybe some new clothes?” Kiriko continues as the two walk together toward the ship.  
“This Saturday we have paperwork.”  
“That’s exactly why, duh. We leave it for later.” Illari gives her a disapproving look.  
“Okay, even if we do that, I don’t need clothes. I already have enough.”  
“Oh, come on—more is better, right? I’ve got several for every occasion and every possible combination.”  
“…I don’t know.” Illari still hesitates.  
“Let me translate what you just said then: ‘Kiriko, I don’t want to go because I hate fun and happiness, blah blah blah.’ Your words!” Kiriko says, mimicking Illari’s gestures.  
“Is that your impression of me?”  
“Say it—it’s perfect, right?”  
“Not even close.”  
“Whatever. So, do you feel like going out to buy clothes and new creams, or staying six hours writing boring reports?”

Illari truly hates dealing with paperwork. Anything would be better—even putting up with Kiriko’s jokes.  
“Fine. We can go to the mall.”  
“Yes!” Kiriko cheers.

The Overwatch jet carries Vivian Chase’s group to New York. Other jets are sent to different locations around the world to install the Trees of Life prototypes. Kiriko, Illari, Vivian Chase, D.Va, Niran, and his group of researchers are assigned to New York City. During the operation, several avenues are closed off, and crowded neighborhoods fill with curious onlookers watching Overwatch’s movements.

“Mommy, look!” A child near the barrier points at Hana’s Tokki mech cutting through the air and landing on the avenue. The crowd applauds as D.Va jumps from the robot. Moments later, the jet carrying the rest of the group lands a few meters behind the mech.  
“So many fans!” Hana comments to Kiriko once everyone meets up.  
“Focus on the mission, Song,” Chase says. “Where do we go first, Doctor?”

Niran looks at a tablet for a few seconds before pointing in a direction.  
“Central Park!”

The doctor turns to the team and leads them forward, escorted by D.Va, Illari, Kiriko, and Sojourn. Along the way, Hana waves from the mech several times to the crowd. Kiriko gives in to temptation and takes a few photos with civilians. Both receive disapproving looks from Chase, who eventually waves to a group shouting her name.  
“Hey there, superstar,” Illari teases.  
“It was just a few pictures!” Kiriko says modestly. “Really! We could go to a photo booth at the mall, you know, to keep the moment!”  
“Isn’t it enough to just take a photo with your phone?”  
“But that’s so boring. Try being more fun!”  
“…I’m not the ‘queen of fun’ like you.”  
“That’s why I, Kiriko Kamori, have devoted my sacred time to dedicating an entire afternoon to teaching you the fine art of cheap fun.”  
“I’m saved!” Illari mocks.  
“You’re welcome,” Kiriko replies in the same tone.

While the two are distracted by their conversation, the rest of the group discusses splitting up. D.Va, Niran, and part of the scientists head toward Central Park, while Illari, Kiriko, Vivian, and the remaining scientists make their way to Times Square. The entire route is filled with distant honking, footsteps, ambulances, and construction noises in specific areas—standard sounds of a noisy metropolis flooding the streets—along with curious crowds contained behind metal barriers and safety tape.

“Alright, we need to position the tree in the center, and the monitoring camera should be installed… riiight… there!” The scientist holds a tablet similar to the one Niran had earlier. Dr. Nijabe Matsumita, a Black woman with curly hair tied into two buns, also wears distinctive red-framed glasses and dress pants that sit a few centimeters above the waist, over a white shirt with light gray stripes.  
“You can take care of the tree. My team and I will install the camera,” Chase takes the initiative.  
“Great! It’s very intuitive—just needs to be attached to a metal surface. Oh! And it’s important that the device gets sunlight, so avoid placing it where there’s too much shade,” Nijabe adds.  
“You heard the doctor—let’s move,” Vivian leads Illari and Kiriko toward a large building with bright digital screens several meters above modern balconies. “We need this to be somewhere high.” As she speaks, she hands the device to Kiriko. “Think you can handle it?”  
“Bffh, of course. Easy,” Kiriko jokes. “Come on, Illari!” She pulls her until they’re standing beneath the tall balcony.

…

“Ready?” Illari prepares to leap toward the balcony.  
“Go for it.”

Illari lifts both feet off the ground and spreads her arms, generating air currents lit with golden sparks. The jump carries her to the balcony in seconds. As soon as her body lands, Kiriko appears beside her, surrounded by blue sparks.  
“I need to get higher,” Kiriko says.  
“Climb up here.” Illari steps forward with one knee, giving the girl a boost. Grabbing onto the beams supporting the glowing billboard, Kiriko climbs to a good height and sticks the device to the edge of the screen.  
“IS THIS GOOD HERE!?” Kiriko shouts down to Vivian and Nijabe, who respond with a thumbs-up.

The device unfolds into four metallic legs; like suction cups, they latch onto the building’s surface. The camera’s eye rotates and expands while beeping. Kiriko disappears from the top of the billboard and reappears beside Illari on the balcony. Before the sparks dissipate, Kiriko looks up at the screen, now displaying a giant Nano Cola advertisement with D.Va’s face on it.  
“Ugh,” Kiriko groans, making a face.  
“Must be nice,” Illari says, looking at the screen.  
“You can come down now!” Chase shouts from the ground.  
“Coming!” Kiriko jumps from the balcony, landing on the asphalt alongside Illari, who descends moments later.

“The tree will continue to grow. We’re done here,” Nijabe says. Some of the scientists pack materials into backpacks, and the commotion around the tree slowly fades, revealing a small glowing tree forming—its trunk a light pink color, slowly twisting and increasing in size.  
“Next location… Upper East Side!”

…

Armored vehicles escort the team to the next location. Some streets are still blocked off, drawing curious stares as the group arrives in the neighborhood. The team surveys the area before preparing the installation.

Kiriko and Illari wait while Nijabe’s team analyzes the site. The green-haired girl sits on the curb, while Illari leans on her pylon for support.

…

“Look over there! There are lots of flags around here—I’ve counted at least ten so far,” Kiriko points to one of the windows in the tall buildings surrounding them. The windowsill is covered by a bisexual flag, slowly waving in the wind.  
“…There’s another one over there,” Illari breaks her silence.  
“There really is—just like Sloan’s!” Kiriko gazes at the windows. “Too bad there isn’t mine… at least not around here.” Her voice drops.  
“…Which one is yours?”  
“Huh?” Kiriko plays dumb.  
“Your flag,” Illari glances around.  
“…If I find it, I’ll show you,” Kiriko dodges the question.  
“Okay…” The girl replies with a suspicious tone, but doesn’t dwell on it for long. Her thoughts are all on the lunch she’s going to make right after this mission. Her stomach has been growling since morning; the rush caused by being late left her with no time to eat—an unforgivable violation of her perfect routine. Because of that, the café on the next corner looks especially appealing to her hungry eyes.

“Kamori. Quispe.” Chase appears in their peripheral vision, prompting the two to stand up and follow the captain. “The device needs to be placed right there!” She points to the top of one of the buildings. The tree was being installed in Ruppert Park and would cover a large part of the area, requiring a broader monitoring camera.  
“Easy!” Kiriko grabs the device and turns to survey the surroundings. “Illari—” Before she can finish, Illari leaps from the ground, landing on a scaffold on the adjacent building.  
“You can come.”  
“Ah… perfect!” Kiriko teleports to Illari and starts climbing, hanging between the building’s external ladders and air-conditioning units fixed to the wall. From the ground, Sojourn watches the two girls’ movements with curiosity, her gaze analytical and attentive.

 
“I’m going to need a hand here,” Kiriko says while waiting on one of the ladders of the brick building.  
“I can use my pylon for that,” Illari suggests.  
“Perfect… throw it right… there.” Kiriko points, and before she even finishes speaking, Illari hits the exact spot. Kiriko jumps, scraping along the building’s wall, grabs onto the pylon, and catapults herself to the top of the adjacent building, attaching the camera to one of the antennas facing the park.  
“Ta-da!” Kiriko waves both hands at Illari and Vivian.  

PFT

She returns to the ground with a teleport.  
“Done.” She points her clenched fist at Illari while winking.  
“I’m not doing that.”  
“You are doing that!… please?” Kiriko shakes her fist.  
“…”  
Silently, Illari completes the greeting with a small fist bump.  
“Boom!” Kiriko grins, wiggling her fingers to mimic an explosion.  
“I’m not doing the explosion.” Illari lowers her hand.  
“Come on, please!!!” Kiriko’s eyes widen in a pleading look.  
“No.” Illari remains neutral, arms crossed.

“Good work, girls,” Chase appears. “A good combination of your abilities, I have to admit.”  
“Thank you, Captain,” Illari says, flattered.  
“And you—braided girl—can you help us?” The doctor waves a hand toward Illari. “You look strong,” she adds.  
“I can help,” the girl replies, a little shy at the compliment.

Kiriko gives Illari one last glance before turning toward the smell drifting from the café near the park.  
“The captain won’t mind if I just…” she tells herself as she discreetly slips toward the café.

…

The smell of freshly baked muffins overwhelms Kiriko as soon as the door to the shop opens.  
“Good morning, how can I help?” One of the attendants at the counter greets her, stepping out from behind a display of assorted sweets and pastries. “Oh! What brings an Overwatch agent in here?!” The man jokes, sounding surprised.  
“Haha, hunger! Actually,” Kiriko smiles, “that smell is amazing.”  
“A fresh batch just came out—want to order?”  
“Yes—give me two cinnamon espressos with a bit of chocolate, and four muffins!”  
“Coming right up!” The man turns and heads into the kitchen. Kiriko can smell the muffins growing stronger as he places four of them into a paper bag. The kitchen door opens again and he returns. “All set!” He hands over the bag of muffins, then turns to the coffee machine. “So… sorry to be curious, but what’s all this Overwatch activity about?”  
“Oh, it’s kind of confidential, actually—but don’t worry, it’s for everyone’s safety,” she says in a reassuring tone.  
“That’s good to hear. You know, I’m a bit scared of everything going on in the world. It’s nice to know heroes are so close to us—close enough for me to hand them a cup of coffee!” As he finishes speaking, he places two full cups of coffee on the counter. “What should I write on them?” he asks with a smile.  
“Write…Kiri on one, and on the other… Sunshine,” she lets out a little laugh.  
“Aaaand… done!” The marker finishes scribbling on the second cup as he hands the order to Kiriko.  
“Thank you so much! How much will it be?”  
“For our heroes, ten dollars!”  
“Oh—thank you,” Kiriko replies, a bit embarrassed.

One of the street’s manhole covers near the park slams back into place. Illari releases the lid with a grunt of effort.  
“Thank you very much!” Dr. Nijabe thanks Illari as she peels a plastic glove from her hands. “Well, Captain, I think we’re done here!”  
“Great. Niran and Hana should be finished as well. Quispé, gather everyone.”  
“Yes, Captain.” Illari turns to the group of scientists and gestures; together with Nijabe, the crowd moves toward the car. Illari’s eyes scan the faces of everyone present, searching for Kiriko’s—no luck. Where did she get herself into? Illari thinks.

BZZZ, BZZZ  

Kiriko’s phone vibrates in her pocket. Balancing the two cups and the bag of muffins, she reaches for it.  
“Oh!” she exclaims when she sees who’s calling.

"Hii! " 

"Kiriko, where did you go?"  

"I had an accident and I’m bleeding, ow, ow—help me!"

  
"Very funny."  

"I’m serious, I can’t feel my legs, ow ow ow!”

Little by little, Kiriko’s voice doubles, and she appears walking toward Illari. Hearing the voice getting closer, Illari turns around.  
“You’re too late, I died!” the voice comes from the phone as well.  
“You—” Illari is interrupted as Kiriko hands her a cup of coffee.  
“I figured you might be hungry.”  
“Oh… thank you,” she says awkwardly, gripping the cup.  
“Warm muffins!” Kiriko shakes the bag.

...

Illari is touched by Kiriko’s gesture—in a good way. The girl’s kindness draws a subtle smile to her face throughout the return trip.  
“Hmm!” Illari exclaims after tasting the coffee. “Wow… it’s exactly how I like my coffee. How did you… how did you know…?”  
“At least five times I used the coffee machine right after you… we weren’t even talking yet,” Kiriko says between sips. “Anyway, I was too lazy to change the settings, so I always drank the same thing you did. I ended up liking espresso with chocolate and cinnamon.”

Illari is still processing the information—it’s a little crazy to hear Kiriko remembering such small details about her.  
“The muffins are delicious too… Can we have muffins on Saturday?”  
“Of course! And much more!” Kiriko replies enthusiastically.

The two reach the car waiting for them.  
“What took you so long? Get in,” Chase says sternly.

On the other side of the city,  
Niran’s glowing platform supports him as the surveillance device attaches itself to the metallic surface.  
“All set!” The platform descends and vanishes in bright pink sparks. The air is cut by Tokki flying between two buildings and landing next to Lifeweaver’s team.  
“All done!” Hana says from inside the mech.  
“Excellent. I’d say that in a few weeks we’ll already have some decent results… Make a note that we need to talk to a local public safety authority,” Niran says to his team. Some scientists offer suggestions and raise points during the discussion before D.Va interrupts.  
“Look over there!” Tokki’s mechanical arm creaks as it points at the black car.  
“Right on time!” Niran walks toward the vehicle. The black car slows more and more until it stops by the curb.  
“How did it go, Doctor?” Nijabe steps out of the car holding her tablet.  
“A success, Doctor!” she replies.  
“Excellent… Gather the tools! We’re done for today!”

Niran’s team quickly packs various complex tools into large bags, loading the cars and heading toward the jet waiting for them.

But elsewhere, far from everything, Talon plots its next move. For weeks, Sombra and a group of agents have been tracking Overwatch’s movements, trying to find a point to strike. Meanwhile, the geneticist O’Deorain develops a method to improve the team’s performance and regeneration. Her search for other medical approaches leads her to Biolight, and then to an intervention aimed at tracking Niran Pruksamanee—an operation accompanied by agents Gabriel Reyes and Amélie Lacroix, who return to base empty-handed. Moira plans her next move…

Firm footsteps echo through the dark corridor until they reach O’Deorain’s laboratory. The sliding door opens. Moira stands with her back to the visitor. The lab is filled with tubes of glowing purple substances, experimental cages, and syringes scattered throughout the room.  
“Doctor,” the voice thunders.  
“Akande… If you’ve come to complain about the failure of the last operation, I should inform you that we’ve already moved past that.”  
“…You’d better already have another plan. Waste of resources will no longer be tolerated.”  
“Things must be lost for new discoveries to emerge, Ogundimu.”  
“The same talk as always. I want results, Doctor.”

Moira’s eyes narrow as she turns her head to face Doomfist. Her mismatched pupils gleam in the light of the monitors under the lab’s dim lighting.  
“I want you to know that I’ve already found our current focus.”

Moira clicks the mouse, and the computer displays photos of a rebuilt city—satellite images of Peru, several views of the city of Runasapi, and, in the third image, a photograph of the local Inti Artifacts Museum.

The afternoon has just begun. The clock reads 2:30 PM. The jet slices through the middle of a cloud as it heads back to the Overwatch base. Niran and his group discuss the planted trees, papers spread across the tables. D.Va snores while taking a nap inside Tokki, and Captain Chase watches Illari and Kiriko.

“…And I’ll take you to my favorite clothing store!” Kiriko says excitedly, immersed in the topic. “There I can find everything for every occasion—we can even put together some new looks for you!”  
“I’d love that,” Illari smiles lightly, “but more than clothes, I really need a new facial cream. Mine is basically saying goodbye already.”  
“We can buy the same one I use—it’s a really good brand. I’m just not a big fan of the makeup, but some people like it.” Illari just listens. “Oh! And we can’t forget to stop by the arcade there! I can’t wait to annihilate you at the basketball machine.”  
“I doubt it,” Illari scoffs.  
“Oh yeah?!” Kiriko stands up and looks at the basketball hoop hanging on the jet’s wall near some safety posters. “Check this out!” She grabs the ball from the table, bounces it twice on the floor, and shoots. The ball follows its path to the hoop, spins on the rim for a few seconds, and drops in. “So?!” Kiriko crosses her arms at Illari.  
“…My turn.” The girl stands up and takes the ball, walking toward Kiriko. “This is where you shot from, right?”  
“Yeah.” Illari takes a few steps back, smiling mischievously at Kiriko. Illari throws the ball; it hangs in the air for a moment and goes straight through the hoop.  
“Easy!” Illari grins.  
“Beginner’s luck. Nobody beats Kiriko Kamori on her home court!” The ball comes back to Kiriko’s hands; two more bounces and it’s back in the air. This time, the trajectory makes it hit the backboard, roll around the rim, and fall out. “Oh, come on!” Kiriko complains.  
“Don’t worry, I can give you some lessons,” Illari teases.  
“Your turn then, Ms. NBA.” Kiriko hands over the ball. Illari, without thinking much, shoots again. It follows the same path, hits the backboard, and drops straight into the hoop, making the backboard and net shake with the impact.  
“We should’ve bet on something… Guess throwing pylons my whole life helped my depth perception!” Kiriko just stares at her, jaw dropped.

From the back of the cabin, Chase chuckles softly as she watches the two.

…

The jet lands in the hangar. The sun beats down on the concrete floor, making everything hotter. Niran’s team follows him as he goes over the details of the plan with the captain.  
“…But like I said, we could still have a partial result from the trees this week if Overwatch allows us contact with—” Niran is interrupted by Chase.  
“Just—just a moment, Doctor.” Chase quickens her pace to catch up with Illari and Kiriko walking ahead.  
“How about a beach look? You’ll need something to wear when we go to Brazil with Lúcio!” Kiriko keeps talking to Illari.  
“Quispé, Kamori!” Chase says. Both turn at the same time. “May I speak with you in my office? In thirty minutes?”  
“Uh… sure!” Kiriko replies.  
“Yes, Captain,” Illari answers along with Kiriko.  
“Great!” Vivian turns back to continue the discussion with Niran.  
“What did we do??” Illari pulls Kiriko closer to whisper.  
“I don’t know, maybe she wants to congratulate us on the great job!” Kiriko keeps her good humor.  
“No! What if it’s because of the muffins? That was off-mission—she must be mad. We were vulnerable and could’ve been attacked, damn it!”  
“Hey, hey, hey! Calm down, haha. I can guarantee you everything’s fine!” Kiriko holds Illari by the shoulder.  
“And if it isn’t?”  
“Well… then we do it right next time! You don’t become a total failure because of one mistake here or there.” Kiriko smiles.  
“Okay…” Illari seems convinced, though she remains thoughtful.

Missions always make Illari anxious. The tension of protecting herself and others gives her chills—the terrifying feeling that she could be attacked at any moment, the fear of being unprepared, the self-criticism for every tiny mistake. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t understand Kiriko’s way of life: always smiling, calm, energetic, playful—and even during missions, staying cheerful despite the tension of a confrontation. Illari’s calm had always been masked by a touch of excessive worry, but this time it was different. For the first time, she felt light. Talking with Kiriko about Saturday distracted her from every possible negative thought.

After the mission, the two decide to have lunch together. Illari waits for Kiriko to come back while eating a salad covered in garlic dressing with pieces of chicken.  
“No burger today?” Illari teases as Kiriko arrives with a plate of carbonara pasta.  
“I have to mix it up sometimes!” She takes her first bite. “On Saturday I’ll take you to my favorite burger place,” she says with her mouth full.  
“I’ll pass,” Illari stirs a piece of cabbage.  
“Good afternoon, girls!” Ziegler passes by holding a juice box.  
“Hi, Doctor,” Kiriko says while Illari waves at her.

Angela makes her way to her office. The brief break at the snack machine steals some time from filling out endless forms on the physical and mental conditions of Overwatch agents. The sound of high heels echoes down the corridor until she reaches the room with a central table piled with papers and computer screens full of spreadsheets and packed schedules.  
“Phew…” She says as she sinks into the office chair, taking a few sips of juice before setting it aside and grabbing some papers resting on the keyboard. Just before getting back to work, knocks on the door catch her attention.

Knock knock

 
“Come in!” Her voice is followed by the sliding door moving to the right, revealing a tall, dark-skinned woman. “Fareeha!” the doctor smiles.  
“I decided to stop by. Bad time?” She walks up to the desk.  
“No! Just the usual… endless paperwork, haha.” Angela stands to talk closer to Amari.  
“That’s good. I heard about the chaos with that new team.”  
“Yeah! I can’t wait for all of this to be over and for the hard work to be back on you and your squad again.” They both laugh.  
“…You know, Angie, when all this is over, we could sneak off to that downtown restaurant. Remember?”  
“How could I forget the best steak I’ve ever had! I’d love that, Fareeha… We need to go out more.”  
“I agree… I still want to take you to the club I go to.”  
“I don’t know if that’s my kind of place, haha.”  
“You’d like it.” She steps closer to Angela.  
“If I went with you… it would be… more… tolerable.” Ziegler looks at her with gentle eyes.  
“It would be an honor, Doctor…” Amari’s fingers slide to Angela’s waist. They lock eyes. Fareeha is the first to act, pulling the woman into an intense kiss that trails down her neck. Ziegler guides the kiss as she’s pushed back against the paper-covered desk.  
“Not on my desk!” she says while Fareeha peppers her neck with kisses. Their fumbling hands come undone, and Angela reconnects their mouths while holding Fareeha’s face. The dark-skinned woman leads the doctor to the office bathroom; the automatic door opens and locks them inside.  
“Quickly—I have to get back to work!” Angela’s voice is muffled by Amari’s heavy breathing. Button by button, the doctor’s shirt becomes a black bra.  
The bathroom fills with low moans and heated breaths.

“Who’s knocking?” Illari asks, staring at Vivian’s office door.  
“Don’t be scared,” Kiriko takes the initiative and knocks.  

Knock knock  

“Come in!” a muffled voice answers from inside. The door opens, and Kiriko and Illari see a particularly cozy office. It used to be Jack Morrison’s, with only a few photos of his trio with Amari and Reyes, plus a small frame of Vincent and himself. After Chase arrived, the place took on a new look: several photos of Murphy, shelves with Canadian souvenirs, community service awards, a smaller counter holding a coffee machine with stacked cups. The whole room is lit by natural light from the window filtering through the burgundy curtains Vivian put up.  
“Welcome! Please, have a seat.” The girls obey. “You must be a little confused by this sudden summons—I promise you didn’t do anything wrong!” Kiriko shoots Illari a quick _told-you-so_ look. “And I apologize for not giving notice; everything’s so chaotic… Well, during the mission earlier with Dr. Pruksamanee, I noticed an admirable synergy between you two. I saw how well your abilities complement each other in the field, and how well you get along outside of it, from what I can tell.” Kiriko gives Illari another look. “But anyway, straight to the point…” She types something on the keyboard. “In the city of London, a building in an upscale neighborhood will be hosting a large party for high-society guests.” Several images appear behind Vivian of a tall glass-covered building gleaming with golden adornments. “We’ve received privileged information that the party is a front for transporting some cargo that will leave the building to be delivered to Null Sector. If we intercept that cargo, we’ll have a clear idea of where to strike within Null Sector’s silence. That’s why I thought the two of you would work well together on this mission. What do you say?”  
They look at each other for a few seconds, contorting their faces and nodding, exchanging a silent conversation through expressions.  
“What do you think?” Kiriko raises her eyebrows.  
“I’m not sure.”  
“Let’s go, it’ll be awesome!” She smiles, eyebrows furrowed.  
“Okay…”  
“We accept,” Illari breaks eye contact. Kiriko nods beside her.  
“Excellent! I’ll send you the details shortly. This Saturday we’ll begin preparations and training,” Chase says.  
“This Saturday??” Kiriko’s smile fades. “But this Saturday we have—” She rethinks it. “…paperwork! We have the weekly report to do…” Illari watches her.  
“Oh, don’t worry about that! This mission is more important—focus on preparing for it!”  
“Thank you for your trust, Captain,” Illari says as she stands and leads Kiriko along.  
“Good afternoon to you both!” Chase raises a hand in a wave.

Fuuush… Clack!

 
The door slides shut behind them.  
“So… no arcade… and… clothing stores, and the donut shop, and the movies!” Kiriko pouts sadly. “No cheap-fun Saturday!”  
“…”  
“Everything I had planned, down the drain!”  
“…You know, this party could be kind of cool,” Illari breaks her silence. “…Think of it as… a spy mission! Or… something like that.” Illari is terrible at giving advice—when she tries, only obvious, silly things come out, at least that’s how she sees it. But somehow, Kiriko clings to what she said.  
“…Hm… You’re right… It actually sounds way more fun…” Kiriko gradually returns to her old self. “…We can have disguises! And… and… fake identities! Maybe cool codenames!” She’s Kiriko again. “A top-tier party—expensive music, expensive food, expensive people—and all wrapped up in movie-worthy action! It even reminds me of the time some friends and I sank a few Hashimoto yachts! We even stole sparkling wine from the most expensive brand in Japan!” Illari listens, smiling—almost impressed that she managed to cheer her up with something so silly. “You know what? This is going to be really cool… We have to decide what we’re wearing—come on!”  
Illari is pulled along by Kiriko through the corridors.

…

“Don’t mind the mess!” Kiriko opens the bedroom door. The room is completely closed off and dark; the light flicks on with a click of the switch. The place is covered in posters of movies, games, and bands. There’s a shelf beside the double bed packed with books and comics. Illari feels the softness of the rug under her feet, littered with scattered paper cutouts. Kiriko nudges a pair of worn-out sneakers aside to clear some space. “Maybe I’ve got something that’ll fit you… let me see…” Kiriko rummages through the entire wardrobe while Illari takes in the room. Her eyes pass over a desk smeared with black paint, a trash bin filled with crumpled ofuda cutouts, and a medium-sized dog bed in the corner of the room. “Let’s try this!” Kiriko pulls a brown striped skirt from the wardrobe and tosses it toward Illari. A few more pieces fly her way; Illari catches them midair and gathers them in her arms.  
“Where do you get so many clothes? …And why do they all look so expensive?”  
“Because they are! You know, most of these I stole from the Hashimoto. My friends and I took clothes that were part of diverted merchandise and handed them out to poorer people in Kanezaka—but I always kept a little something here and there.” Kiriko grabs one of the clothes from the back of the closet, smells it, and puts it back.  
“That’s actually really kind,” Illari says, examining some of the pieces Kiriko threw her way—a fitted leather jacket adorned with a few chains.  
“The bathroom’s over there on the right!” Kiriko points to a door at the end of the room.

Illari looks at the door, then back at Kiriko, and starts walking toward the bathroom. Arms full of clothes, she balances everything in one hand just to turn the knob. The door creaks as Illari steps inside and shuts with a thud.

Kiriko’s bathroom is surprisingly cozy. Colorful frames are scattered across the walls, and there’s a huge mirror with several shelves filled with skincare products—creams, masks, perfumes, moisturizers, and even a jar of strawberry jam. But what Illari likes most is the bee-shaped rug covering the floor in front of the sink. She responds to the cuteness of the little bee with a soft giggle.  
“Feel free to use any product you want!” Kiriko shouts from outside the bathroom.  
“Thanks!” Illari replies.

She starts by holding up and matching a few pieces: first the brown striped skirt with a button-up shirt and a vest decorated with golden embroidery.

…

“I don’t know, Kiriko…” Illari says, adjusting the collar.  
“Come on, let me see!” The door opens and Illari steps out.  
“So?” She turns a few times to show the outfit.  
“Uhh…” Kiriko draws out her voice.  
“It’s awful, I know,” Illari says, and the door shuts again. She tries another combination: long black pants with the leather jacket and the same shirt tucked in.  
“Too much black?”  
“…Too… casual…”  
“Ugh!” The girl grumbles and goes back to the pile of clothes.

She comes out a few more times with different combinations—some she hated but Kiriko loved, others neither of them liked, others that didn’t fit the theme. Illari set aside some pieces she thought could work for the party and built looks around them. Kiriko was reading one of the manga she’d found on the bed when the door creaked again. She lowered the manga, her jaw dropping. Illari stepped out wearing perfectly matched pieces: a pink dress that extended into an adorned veil down to her calves; a layer of black fabric with the same adornments overlaying the pink on the top part of the dress, paired with a fitted, buttoned leather jacket. To complete the look, she wore a shining pearl necklace that helped the earrings she already had stand out.  
“And now?” Illari gently twirls the dress.  
“You are—?!… You’re… so!?!” Kiriko flails her arms, blurting out incomplete words that barely make sense. “You’re perfect! It fits you so well.” She circles around Illari, inspecting the dress.  
“I like it… I think it works as a good disguise,” Illari says, adjusting the jacket.  
“Are you kidding? Keep it! It looks perfect on you!”  
“No, I’ll just wear it to the party and then give it back.”  
“No, no—take it as a gift!”  
“…Okay… thank you,” Illari accepts it shyly. “I think I should get going then…”  
“Ah… already?” Kiriko says, a little disappointed. “Well… okay. I’ll walk you out!”

Illari feels awkward about the situation. Being with Kiriko outside a work context is slightly strange. The fun they had at the party opened this gate leading to this moment—her standing with the girl in her bedroom. It feels absurd in Quispé’s mind, so she tries to flee from the weirdness that consumes her every time. Even though Illari enjoys being with Kiriko, she still hasn’t shaken off the adrenaline she feels, like jumping out of a plane.

…

“Thank you… for the dress, and for the muffins earlier…”  
“Oh, it was nothing, haha…”  
“…Well, see you later!” Illari waves and turns to leave. Kiriko waves back.  
“Hey!” Kiriko calls out. “I’ve got some board games saved away… I don’t know if you’ve got anything to do right now…”  
“I… no, I don’t have anything,” Illari realizes she’s giving in to that adrenaline again. But it doesn’t bother her. Day by day, she’s less afraid of going against what her instincts tell her. After all, at first she hadn’t planned to go to Genji’s party, and she would’ve missed all the silly things that made her smile. Maybe this moment is another chance like that. The fear of regret is greater than the awkwardness running through her body.

She starts walking back.  
Kiriko welcomes her with a smile.

Something has changed between them. Not long ago, they barely spoke properly; now they share these simple, fun moments. Illari has adopted a way of dealing with all this—a way that’s worked better than she expected. The day she saw the bright moon in the sky with Kiriko, while they shared the last stale donuts from Genji’s party, she promised herself she’d let herself go more often. Since then, she’s fought for more “yeses” and rejected more “nos.” The fear she carries still speaks as loudly as ever; uncertainty screams from her chest to her ears. But at the end of the day, she remembers the smiles she earned when she said yes to the little silly things Kiriko suggested. Kiriko smiled as Illari shook the dice. She could barely believe this moment—her and Illari Quispé Ruiz in the same room, laughing while playing board games. Her cheeks flush slightly as she smiles, lost in thought.  
“Your turn,” Illari says, pointing the dice at Kiriko.  
“Huh? Oh!” Kiriko snaps back to herself, shakes her hand, and the dice slip free, clattering onto the board and rolling to a stop. At the same time the dice show six and two, a loud crack erupts right beside Kiriko along with blue sparks. Used to the noise, Kiriko turns.  
“Oh, hi there, buddy!” She scratches behind the fox’s ear. “Ah! This is Illari!” The fox slowly walks over to her, filling the room with comfort and peace.  
“Can I…?” Illari raises her hand toward Kitsune.  
“Of course! She loves it—especially behind the neck, the ears, and under the chin!” Illari places her hand on the fox’s head, feeling the soft fur, somehow ethereal at the same time.  
“You’re so beautiful! Do you like being petted here?” she softens her voice as the fox squints happily under the affection.

Illari admits her weak spot is animals; she’s always connected with them more than with people. It was extremely hard for her to leave Chuño in Runasapi—after all, he’s her best friend. He listened to her during her most critical moments; she felt he understood her, made her tears disappear by resting his head on her lap. She even considered adopting a smaller animal to keep her company, but abandoned the idea when she realized she’d have very little time to spend with it. She keeps petting Kitsune, letting out small giggles. Her eyes drift from the fox to Kiriko, who’s quietly laughing.  
“_Ahem_,” Illari clears her throat and stops petting the fox.  
“Hey! Why did you stop? You were being so cute!” Kiriko smiles.  
“Did you play?” Illari dodges the subject.

They spend the afternoon together. Kitsune sleeps peacefully on Illari’s lap while being petted. They laugh and talk until the sliver of sunlight escaping through the curtains disappears.

Can I get your number?
Can I get you into bed? 
When we wake up in the morning  
Will you give me lots of head?
(Everybody wants to love you)
Everybody wants to love you

Japanese Breakfast plays on the speaker beside the bed. Kiriko and Illari listen together, lying on the carpet. Kitsune sleeps between them. Kiriko gently bobs her head to the rhythm with her eyes closed; Illari clasps her hands over her chest, staring at the ceiling and listening closely. The comfort of the moment envelops them both, a mixed feeling of trust and pleasure slowly taking shape.

…

“So, see you later! I can’t wait for our… _secret mission_,” Kiriko says goodbye to Illari at the bedroom door.  
“See you around… and thanks for the outfit again.”  
“Thank you for the company!” They part amid giggles and soft smiles.

Illari returns to her room thinking about the day. Her bed feels ten times more comfortable as soon as she throws herself onto the mattress. The songs she listened to with Kiriko echo in her thoughts, blending with the moment she stepped out of the bathroom in the dress, the moment Kiriko showed her her manga collection, and even when she found small doodles scribbled on pieces of paper of Genji and Hanzo holding hands, with “Union” written above them, drawing a laugh from Illari. She’d heard about the Shimadas and what happened between them—from Kiriko herself, the day Illari accidentally elbowed her below the eye. Kiriko told her about their relationship during childhood and how she misses that feeling a little. Illari understands that sense of longing well—over time, she’s learned to cope with it through smells, phrases, and moments that fill her with nostalgia.

…

Kiriko stored the board games under her bed.  
“Achoo!” Dust particles flew toward her as the game box hit the space beneath the bed. “Did you like meeting her, buddy?” Kiriko turned to Kitsune, who rested her head on a pile of comics. The fox replied with a yawn. “Well, I think she liked you.” Kiriko grabbed a few more scattered objects and tidied them up. “I think we’re making good progress—Lúcio really knows his stuff… Hey! At least listen to me a little.” Kiriko rolled her eyes at Kitsune, who had already fallen into a deep sleep.

She drifted back into her thoughts. The image of Illari’s smile stuck in her mind—a gentle, discreet, sincere smile. Paired with those deep dark eyes framed by a golden arc, it melted her like ice cream. Because of that, she even avoided staring too much, afraid her face would turn ten different shades of red. She knew she was completely smitten with Illari, ever since the moment she laid eyes on her during their first mission together. Seeing that they had finally grown closer made her happy; she smiled to herself in the corridors, imagining a distant, maybe impossible future. There were so many things she didn’t know about Illari. The whole process exhausted her—it was a test of patience with moments worth savoring—but the burning she felt in her chest every time the woman got close almost scorched the butterflies in her stomach amid their shared laughter. She felt like a cocktail being shaken up and down, stirred and mixed with every sensation, along with the fear of unreciprocated feelings and the urge to shout all her admiration to Illari. That whole blend of unexpressed emotions drove her crazy, especially when she was prevented from letting it all out within her own mental space—because even there, Illari was present. At least her sleep problems were gone; the insomnia had been replaced by wild dreams at night. She could even list the latest ones: some mixing the yokai era with Overwatch missions, others where she dreamed of her mother, the kitsune, the Shimada brothers, her school days—and some dreams about Illari, dreams she would never mention to the girl… a heap of intrusive thoughts transformed into unlikely dreams.

She finished organizing the room; everything returned to normal, but the music kept playing, moving through other random tracks. The rest of the afternoon became nothing more than an interval between her happy moment with Illari and her falling asleep watching movies.

…

“This is the building—_Quantum Plaza_, a high-end residential complex in downtown London…” Captain Chase pointed to the image projected on the board in the briefing room. Kiriko and Illari listened attentively to the details of tomorrow’s mission. “Athena calculated all possible routes the target might take to reach the rooftop, where the package will be delivered. Passing through the main hall is the fastest—taking the elevators up and then the stairs to the top. So: intercept the target.” An image of an omnic with three glowing points on its forehead, curved eyes, and golden lines covering its mandible appeared next to the building on the projection. “Capture the package and return without drawing attention. We don’t need any more scandals in Overwatch’s name.” The images vanished. “It’s important to emphasize that the use of weaponry on this mission is… limited. Therefore, I advise you to spend the rest of the day training your hand-to-hand combat skills. Any questions?” The two exchanged glances among the audience as Chase looked at them.

…

“Too bad you won’t be able to bring your rifle. As for me, I’ve got lethal and discreet weapons—_HAYA_!” Kiriko pulled a kunai hidden inside her jacket sleeve, spinning it aggressively through the air.  
“I don’t need that, and you know it very well…” Illari crossed her arms.  
“What do you mean by that?!” Kiriko hid the kunai and turned to Illari, who replied with a defiant smile. “If this is about that time, you only won because I was afraid of seriously hurting you!”  
“Uh-huh, sure.”  
“But today I’m going to show you the true power of the fox! _HUUYA_!!” She swung her leg in an air kick.  
“You’re fired up today.”  
“How could I not be!? Tomorrow we’re having the coolest mission I’ve had since I joined Overwatch!”  
“Fair.”

They walked together toward Overwatch’s outdoor training grounds—a place with speed-measuring tracks, complex automated circuits, shooting ranges, and a gym area. Both set their bags on a table beside some metal lockers. Kiriko took off her jacket, revealing her training outfit: a black sports top and loose red shorts. Illari did the same; the white hoodie she wore went over her head, slightly mussing her hair, revealing a dark-blue bodysuit that matched the gray sweatpants she wore underneath. Kiriko turned to say something but froze at the sight.

“Whoa.” Kiriko’s eyes stuck to Illari’s hips, then traveled up to the defined abs visible beneath the bodysuit’s fabric. The view flustered her, making her break eye contact with a flimsy excuse, staring at a few birds flying by.  
“Ready?” Illari tossed the hoodie onto the table and stretched her shoulders.  
“Huh? Oh—yeah, sure. More than ready,” Kiriko replied.

...

“On three.” They positioned themselves on the mat, just like the first time, facing each other while stretching.  
“One,” Kiriko started.  
“Two.”  
“Three!” She lunged at Illari, throwing strikes toward the girl’s chest and torso. Illari blocked with her arm while spinning her leg, striking Kiriko’s heel. In response, Kiriko dodged with a precise jump to Illari’s back. Illari’s eyes lagged in tracking Kiriko’s movement; out of the corner of her eye she saw Kiriko’s feet slam into her torso, throwing her off balance. At the same time, another open-handed strike came in from the other side. Illari caught it with her right hand and countered with a spinning arm motion, forcing Kiriko to move right—straight into Illari’s leg extending backward, making her lose balance and fall.

Illari seized the chance, turning to pin Kamori to the ground. Refusing to give in, Kiriko blocked Illari’s hands and legs, counterattacking with a flurry of leg movements. Illari anticipated it and locked Kiriko’s left leg with her own, hooking her thigh over Kiriko’s and wrapping underneath with her calf, while her other knee pried Kiriko’s other leg open, making escape difficult. Kiriko’s face flushed pink as she plotted her escape, swinging the leg pinned by Illari’s knee over Illari’s shoulder and pulling her close. The move untangled their legs and made Illari fall on top of Kiriko, who took advantage and reversed positions, putting Illari on the ground with Kiriko on top, pinning her legs. Illari kept writhing, forcing her way out, until she managed to shove Kiriko away.

Both stood again, trading blows and blocks. Illari countered one strike and accidentally clipped Kiriko’s cheek, leaving a small wound without noticing. Kiriko winced from the impact for a few seconds before striking back. Blows crossed and collided until Quispé spun her body along with Kiriko’s, tangling their feet and making Kiriko lose sight of Illari. When Kamori turned back, Illari’s clenched fist was dangerously close to Kiriko’s nose. Their heavy breathing was clearly audible now. Kiriko stared at the fist, panting.

“…_Huff… huff_… Did I do this to you?” Illari pointed to the wound amid labored breaths.  
“Huh?” Kiriko touched the mark. “Oh, I guess so—” She was cut off as Illari placed a hand on her face.  
“Don’t move.” Illari ran her thumb beneath the wound while Kiriko stared at her with shining pupils, trying hard not to let her cheeks turn tomato-red. Gradually, the pain faded under Illari’s touch, while the area warmed—heat beyond normal body warmth—until a golden spark flickered at the thin point of contact between Kiriko’s skin and Illari’s finger, the same glow that emanated from the markings on the girl’s bare arms.  
“Whoa, how did you do that?” Kiriko rubbed her cheek, now unmarked, a little warm and soft.  
“I can heal small wounds with the heat of my body. The markings store that power,” she said, pointing to the mark that traced the beginning of her arm just below the shoulder. The glow there slowly faded. “I just channel that force so my rifle can amplify the power of the sun… If I used my hands to heal more serious injuries, I’d probably be fainting all the time.” She smiled as she spoke. Illari had used her power in its pure form only a few times; she’d always feared using it this way, uncertain of how strong she truly was. During her training to become an Inti warrior, she learned the finer details of her powers and how they worked—she never thought she’d need to use them like this again.  
“That’s actually pretty cool,” Kiriko smiled back.  
“I don’t think fainting all the time is cool.”  
“Not that—the energy thing in the markings.”

Kiriko’s curiosity about Illari’s past had grown immensely lately. Between one fact and another she knew about Illari, there were empty gaps. As easy as it would be to open the girl’s file and—_bam!_—learn everything, it felt like an invasion, like prying into her life. From Kiriko’s perspective, things were going well trying to get to know Illari in the most organic way possible. Even if she didn’t know everything yet—and even if curiosity screamed inside her—taking the proper time felt… like the right thing to do.

SATURDAY — MISSION DAY

FUUSHH

Steam floods the Overwatch hangar. A cloud of hot, whitish vapor announces the arrival of a jet adorned with bluish glass accents. A heavy rumble echoes as the mist dissipates and the jet’s door opens.

From inside, footsteps move toward Vivian Chase, Niran, Winston, and a group of scientists waiting beside the aircraft. At last, the footsteps reveal a face: a woman of average height, straight dark-brown hair reaching the end of her back, smooth dark skin contrasting with her light-blue dress that drapes elegantly over her body, leaving a strip visible down to the start of her calves.

“Satya!” Niran opens his arms to greet his friend.  
“Niran!” she smiles gracefully as she hugs him. “It’s so good to see you… I hope that—ah.” Vaswani turns to Winston and Chase. “You must be Captain Vivian Chase and Doctor Winston.” She extends her hand to greet them both.  
“We’re happy we can finally join forces,” Winston says, still holding Symmetra’s delicate hand.  
“We ran into some setbacks, but we believe it’s possible to begin testing as soon as possible,” Vivian adds.  
“I certainly hope so.” Satya’s bright smile moves from Chase and Winston before settling on Niran.

“So this is where you’ve been working,” Satya says as she observes the Overwatch design lab—a tall hall filled with tables, displays, holograms, robots, parts, crates, and a small lounge area in the corner. The space is illuminated by suspended LEDs and tall windows.

They walk toward Niran’s desk, covered in plants being watered by a small floating robot with a screen projecting a face that shifts from ^-^ to O-O and sometimes -_-. The rest of the desk is filled with schematics and notes. A large blueprint lies buried beneath scribbled papers, open envelopes, and small mechanical components.

“Sorry about the mess. I was working out the final details of the Tree of Life tests.” Niran straightens a few papers. As he approaches, holographic screens rise above the desk, displaying graphs and 3D schematics of the same project shown in the blueprint.  
“Hm, are these the data you collected?” Satya points at one of the graphs.  
“Ah! Yes. Just one day was enough to confirm that quality of life truly increased in the areas where the Tree of Life was installed. We still need to determine maintenance cycles, practical costs, government interference, and develop a deployment plan for the structures.” Niran adjusts one of his white streaks as he speaks.  
“Hm, of course. I’d like to take measurements in person. We’ll need to visit the sites—I need to know what I’ll be working with.”  
“I can talk to Dr. Ziegler. She can arrange it with Captain Chase.”  
“We’ll deal with that later. For now, I need to familiarize myself with my tools.”

She walks to another table beside Pruksamanee’s. It’s empty except for a white case with technological locks on top, with similar crates stacked nearby. The silver Overwatch emblem gleams under Vaswani’s touch, unlocking the side clamps.

TSSK

Steam hisses from the seams as the case opens, revealing numerous parts and instruments still wrapped in clear plastic: carbon plates, adaptable holographic projectors, circuit boards, wires, metallic materials of every shape—everything Symmetra requested from Overwatch.

“I can work with this.” The doctor picks up a few components, inspecting them closely.

The hectic morning caused by Satya Vaswani’s arrival drags on. The entire Overwatch base is crowded with researchers moving through the corridors. It’s still early. Kiriko walks toward the cafeteria in her pajamas to grab something to eat, and the sight startles her—thousands of people in lab coats and work clothes fill the room.

“Oh, come on…” Kiriko groans when she turns toward the coffee machine line.

…

“That’s what I was saying, the tea quality here isn’t as good as in the East,” a man and a woman chat in front of Kiriko in the long line. She looks around, slightly embarrassed to be the only one wearing casual clothes: navy-blue sweatpants covered in fox prints and a slightly stained white tank top. To make matters worse, her hair is loose and messy. She takes small steps forward as the line advances, until it’s finally her turn.

BZZ BZZ

A notification vibrates on Illari’s phone. She’s brushing her hair in the bathroom mirror, the comb gliding smoothly through her brown strands as she grabs the phone with her other hand.

At 10:35, Kiriko messages her:  
“There are so many people here, help me >o<”

Illari glances at the notification bar, sets the comb on the sink, and opens the chat.

“There are so many people here. Help me!! >o<”

“What were you expecting?”

“I dunno, that there wouldn’t be THIS many people?  
Seriously, who are all these people?”

“They’re all part of Vaswani’s team. She arrived early this morning.”

“What?  
Seriously?!  
I thought she was only coming next week!”

“That was said last week. This is ‘next week.’ ”

“Great, now I’ll have to face a huge line every day just to get my coffee!  
And I won’t even be able to do it in pajamas.  
Thanks, science.”

 
“Wait—did you go to the cafeteria in pajamas?”

“Yeah, obviously. I’m not getting fully dressed just to grab coffee and donuts, ┐(￣ヘ￣)┌”

“Whatever. We need to review the mission briefing. Meet me in the meeting room at 11.”

“Eleven?? Eleven??  
At eleven I’ll still be halfway through the line!”

 
“Don’t be dramatic. Just let me know when you’re wearing something that isn’t pajamas.”

“Okay, okay.  
Excited for today, btw ^-^  
See you later!”

“See you.”

 
She adds a small smiley face.

Illari hesitates before sending it. She isn’t used to emojis—she also took a while to understand when Kiriko first sent her an S2. She sets the phone aside and resumes brushing her hair.

Kiriko smiles sweetly at the emoji Illari sent—until she notices how long the remaining line still is.

“I actually like it—not too much sugar, but something with a more exotic flavor is always welcome.” Satya and Niran return from the cafeteria, holding plastic cups of coffee as they walk toward the design lab. Niran is so distracted by the conversation that he doesn’t notice Baptiste bumping into him. The impact is followed by metallic parts clattering across the floor.

“I’m sorry!” Niran quickly crouches to gather the items.  
“Oh, no problem, haha.” Augustin helps pick up a few pieces.

They exchange looks. Niran smiles at Baptiste.

“I’ve never seen you around here.”  
“Overwatch keeps you so busy you don’t even know who you’re working with. Name’s Baptiste.” He extends his hand. “And I assume you’re Doctor…?”  
“Niran. Just call me Niran.” He gently interrupts, shaking his hand.  
“Nice to meet you.”

They hold each other’s gaze for a moment.

“Well, I should get going, haha. See you around.”  
“Ah, right. Duty calls me too.”

They laugh and wave goodbye. Baptiste walks down the corridor while Niran watches him for a few seconds.

“What was that?” Satya asks.  
“I’m meeting people, Satya! I’m already thinking about the post-mission drink—I’ll need company!”

They continue toward the double doors at the end of the hall.

“Finally!” Illari exclaims when she sees Kiriko entering the meeting room, now wearing a teal jacket, black leggings, and her hair tied back.  
“Hi to you too,” Kiriko replies, closing the door behind her.  
“Hi, Kiriko. Sit down—we have a lot to go over.” Illari holds a tablet as they sit in the front rows. “Captain Chase sent me some useful files: the guest list and the floor plan from the lobby to the rooftop. Did you take care of the fake names?”  
“Yep!” Kiriko says, pulling something from her jacket pocket. “Here.”

She hands over two forged IDs with their photos and altered names. The forgery is convincing enough to pass, even adjusting their ages to make them look a few years older.

“Lilla? Do I look like a Lilla?” Illari blurts out.  
“It’s an anagram of Illari, idiot.” Kiriko snatches it back. “I just didn’t know where to put the R, so I removed it… Hey!”  
Illari grabs Kiriko’s ID, studies the photo for a few seconds, then reads the fake name.  
“Lisa? Why Lisa?!”  
“That’s my life, babe, I’m a rockstar!” Kiriko sings, waving her hands. “I like that name.” She takes the ID back.  
“Whatever… it’ll do. Anyway, this is our target.” Illari scrolls through the guest list until an omnic appears. “We locate him, follow him, and intercept the package. There may be other infiltrators, so stay alert. You bringing your kunai?”  
“Yes.” Kiriko pulls out a granola bar. Illari notices and ignores it.  
“Alright. I analyzed everyone on the list last night.”  
“What time did you even sleep?”  
“That’s irrelevant… I didn’t find much. Mostly businesspeople, models, investors, celebrities, and special guests.”

“I found something extremely important!”  
“Oh yeah?”  
“Yes! Omnica Luna is performing at the party!”  
“Who?”  
“You don’t know her?”  
“…Kiriko.” Illari rolls her eyes.

“She’s always at these fancy events! I ran into her once during a chase between the Yokai and the Hashimoto at one of those rich-people dinners. She was singing while I was punching goons!” Kiriko throws punches into the air as she remembers.  
“Focus, Kiriko. We need to finish this.”  
“Okay, okay.”

They spend the afternoon reviewing materials, guest lists, practicing their disguises, and stretching time in the training room. Kiriko tells Illari more about Luna, references spy movies, and spends half an hour thinking up a catchphrase for when they intercept the package. Illari, meanwhile, endlessly repeats a mental action pattern she prepared—trying to define how she’ll act. It’s nearly impossible in such an unpredictable mission, yet she enjoys the false sense of control, even knowing she’s fooling herself.

Night approaches. The sky fades from purple to magenta, stars scattered faintly above. The wind moves the curtains in Illari’s room as she styles her hair to match the outfit Kiriko gave her: a two-layered pink dress, the top layer a sheer veil covering the fabric, paired with a fitted leather jacket.

She lets her hair down, then ties it back into a bun, leaving two thin strands framing her face. The golden streaks above her forehead remain loose and unruly—a rebellious contrast to the decorated bun. As she adds the final accessories, her mind drifts to the memory of learning this same hairstyle from her mother.

Her expression cools with a sad nostalgia. Her hands rest on the sink, a fingernail scraping wet porcelain as thin salty drops fall from her eyes, vanishing among the faucet’s drips. It’s been a long time since Illari cried. It’s strange that something so “trivial” drew out tears she’d held back for so long. For a moment, it’s almost a relief—to feel human, capable of fragility. Her self-destructive subconscious quiets as her eyes brim, and for a rare moment, she simply lets the nostalgia and longing ache in her chest.

In her room, Kiriko adds the final accessories: gold bracelets on her arms and a thin necklace. She wears a red strappy dress that falls just above her feet, covered by a black veil that softens and elevates the look. The veil is embroidered, matching the glove that covers her arms and reaches nearly to her shoulders. She carries a small bag with kunai ready at hand.

She lifts her hands to her hair and decides to wear it loose, bangs covering her forehead. She smooths it with her palm before turning to Kitsune, who’s playing with a scrap of paper.

“Do I look okay, girl?” She poses with a hand on her hip. “Do I look fancy?”  
The fox stops playing to sniff Kiriko’s dress. Kiriko crouches to pet her.  
“Maybe I need you there with me, huh?”

She lifts Kitsune, who seems excited.

“I’m a little scared, to be honest…” Kiriko keeps smiling, trying to hide her mixed feelings. “I’m afraid something might happen to Illari. I know she’s strong… but what if I’m not enough for her?” Kitsune lowers her ears.  
“How can I ask her to trust me if I can’t even trust myself…?”

Kiriko sets Kitsune down. The fox curls around her legs. Kiriko smiles and sits on the bed; Kitsune follows, resting her head on Kiriko’s lap.

“I like how you understand me… We’ve done a lot of crazy things together. This will be one more. Protect us this time too…”

Her gloved hand strokes the fox’s head as Kitsune settles.

"Kamori!” Vivian waits beside the aircraft in the hangar. Night is falling, the sky still holding its last blend of blue and magenta. “Nice outfit!”  
“Thanks! I think I look like one of those rich people.”  
“It’s a great disguise.” Chase scans the area. “And Quispé?”  
“I thought she’d already be here.”

They don’t notice at first—the sound of boots echoes from one of the hangar entrances. From behind a planter, rebellious golden strands sway in the night breeze. Illari steps out, her expression conflicted.

“Oh, there she is!” Chase says.

After a few steps, the three stand close enough. Chase hands them small, discreet communication devices.

“That dress looks even better on you now!” Kiriko compliments. “I loved what you did with your hair.”  
“Ah… thank you.” Illari touches the strand near her ear, smiling shyly as she holds the communicator. “I liked yours too—I’ve never seen you with bangs.”  
“I’ve gotta switch it up sometimes!” Kiriko grins.

Chase watches them, her gaze bouncing between Kiriko and Illari.

“You both did a great job with the disguises. Ready?”  
“Yes, Captain.” Illari finishes fitting the communicator into her ear.  
“Excellent. Good luck, girls. I’m counting on you.”

Chase gives them one last confident look. Together, they walk toward the jet. The heavy doors close as the roar of takeoff fills the hangar.

…

The silence of the research room is broken only by Niran typing on his computer keyboard. His eyes, tired from the bright screen, reveal a trace of sleep kept at bay by the coffee in his cup. He rubs his eyes as he reaches for the now-empty mug.  
“I need some more,” he mutters, his voice blending with the sound of the chair scraping backward. Standing up, he glances to his side—another desk with its light still on, illuminating Satya asleep over a pile of documents. The man smiles, followed by a quiet chuckle. He positions himself beside Vaswani, brushes a lock of hair away from her eyes, then wraps his arms around her, lifting her gently. One arm supports her legs and torso while his shoulder bears Satya’s sleep-heavy head. He walks to Satya’s room and lays her down on the bed. Before leaving, Niran removes Vaswani’s shoes and covers her with a blanket. He gives one last look at Satya sleeping peacefully before the light from the hallway disappears as the door closes.

The calm Overwatch base prepares for sleep. With little movement around, Niran walks through the empty corridors until he reaches the cafeteria. He gives a simple nod to the only two people there—Genji and Angela, who nod back at him. The two are chatting while Niran pours himself another cup of coffee.

“Hahaha, you didn’t get mad at him afterward??” Angela laughs at Genji’s story as she takes sips of her drink.  
“Actually, no. I’ve never seen Kiriko laugh that hard before. I ended up laughing along with them,” he says, finishing the story from when Hanzo, Kiriko, and he were children—a memorable moment when Hanzo gave him a spicy chocolate bar without telling him. Kiriko and Hanzo laughed as Genji drank liters and liters of water, complaining even more when he realized the chocolate had nuts.  
“Kamori-san saw everything. She even scolded my brother, but I could tell she wanted to laugh too. I can’t blame her—I should’ve realized it was spicy on the first bite. I probably didn’t need to eat the whole thing, haha,” Genji laughs.  
“Hahahaha, you ate the whole thing??”  
“Yeah… at first it was good!”

They fall into a brief silence between laughs before Genji resumes,  
“So, is our lunch tomorrow still on?”  
“Absolutely, I can’t wait!”  
“Great!” They look at each other. “Still all that madness with Dr. Vaswani?”  
“Oh, yes! But don’t worry, I’ve faced bigger things than that. By the way, since the strike teams aren’t so busy right now, you should plan something with your brother. You two need to sort things out now that you’re living in the same place again.”  
“I know… but he’s difficult. It feels like he found refuge in Cole’s bad jokes. I barely see him around. Kiriko’s been trying to bring us together for a while, but I think she gave up after last time.”  
“What… happened?”  
“Well, Kiriko had this idea for a joint meditation session. He and I agreed to it—she had to tell him it would be just her and my brother to convince him to go. After that, we argued. He kept saying my technique wasn’t ideal and tried to control everything I did, like always. Kiriko tried to calm things down, but in the end she gave up. There haven’t been any new attempts since.”  
“That’s really sad,” Angela says, looking at Genji with compassion. “Kamori has such a good heart—and the courage to try to bring you two together like that…”  
“See what I mean now? Not even she can make my stubborn brother at least stop being so stupid,” Genji crosses his arms, looking away.  
“He’s difficult, Genji, I know. But maybe someday he’ll soften. You being there for him will do you good, I promise. Just don’t throw yourself to the lions—you're already showing you’re willing to make things right. All that’s missing is initiative from him…” Angela rests a hand on his shoulder.  
“Kiriko told me the same thing—right after apologizing for my brother. Which is kind of absurd, in my opinion, that she has to take the blame for Hanzo’s arrogance.”  
“She has a pure heart. She really just wants to help, even when it costs her.”  
“I admire that about her. Unfortunately, my brother only sees a child playing at throwing knives. I just don’t think she should subject herself to ridicule to help someone.”  
“Are you talking about her and Quispé?” Angela asks.  
“Well… yes. She told me about her. Said there’s someone interesting there—she seems determined.”  
“I think it’s working, haha.”  
“You really think so?”  
“Well, I’ve never seen Quispé smile that much before. Remember the party? Her and Kiriko dancing?? To me, that’s more than success!”  
“You’re right. I never imagined seeing that girl like that. Ever since she joined Overwatch, she’s been so… lonely.”  
“Poor thing. I don’t like showing pity—I can tell she doesn’t like it either. And even if I show compassion, she mistakes it for sympathy.”  
“Kiriko told me she didn’t read the report on the girl. She said something about wanting to really get to know her.”  
“Aww, that’s sweet of her,” Angela smiles as she finishes her drink. “By the way, I’ll need wine tomorrow for our lunch!”  
“Of course!” Genji replies enthusiastically.  
“I should go now. Thanks for the talk.”

They stand up and exchange a goodbye hug beside the table. Genji looks at Angela with a bright gaze as she waves at him, slowly disappearing down the corridor.

°•° _Girls on Film_ — Duran Duran °•°

Camera flashes light up the façade covered by a red carpet leading to the building’s entrance. People shout as a limousine stops at the end of the carpet. The door unlocks and a pair of elegant shoes touch the ground. Luna, the singer, walks along the carpet.  
“Over here, Luna!” “Look this way!”

She turns toward the voices, greeted by the sound of cameras capturing the moment. Surrounded by paparazzi and fans, she’s escorted to the entrance. Inside, she joins other guests dressed in high-end attire—some shaking hands, others greeting each other with nods. Some pass by reception, chatting with an omnic who manages the guest list.

A few meters away… Kiriko and Illari watch the building from afar as soon as they reach the avenue.  
“Wow, it’s really big,” Kiriko says.  
“Yeah… okay, it’s going to be fine. We just need to get in, find the guy… and… it’ll be fine,” Illari says, nervously watching the spotlights dancing across the windows.  
“Hey, hey! Calm down,” Kiriko steps in front of her. “Everything’s going to be fiiine! We trained for this, didn’t we?”  
“Yes, but—”  
“Nope, no ‘buts.’ Breathe with me.”  
“Kiriko, no, I don’t need—”  
“Come on, inhale!”

Kiriko raises her hands slowly with her breath, lungs filling with air. Illari gives in and breathes a little too fast.  
“Slower!” Kiriko teases.  
“This is ridiculous—”  
“Now, exhale!”

The hand lowers slowly as the lungs empty. Illari closes her eyes, feeling the air fill her chest again, taming the space inside.  
“Now, let it out…” Kiriko says softly.

With her lungs full, Illari’s thoughts drift away, calming her.  
“Better?” Kamori asks as Illari opens her eyes.  
“Yes… thank you.”  
“Perfect. Now let’s go!”

They cross traffic and approach the building’s crowded façade. The movement makes Illari tense as they near the crowd. With cautious steps through the sea of voices and stares, Kiriko grabs Illari’s hand and leads her to the entrance. Security blocks the doors with a rope, and in front of them stands a small podium with an omnic in a black suit.  
“Names, please,” he asks politely, sliding a finger down the list.  
“Lisa and Lilla,” Kiriko answers promptly.  
“…One moment… ah! Here you are! You may enter.”

The guards step aside.

“…We’re in!” Kiriko squints and lowers her voice.  
“Focus, Kiriko. We’re looking for someone,” Illari says, scanning the room. The place is exactly as she imagined—tables in the corners covered with detailed white cloths, golden ornaments on dark walls, glass everywhere, a dark pine stage with a band playing calm music, and beside it a bar with three bartenders. Waiters weave between tables with trays of colorful drinks. Illari’s eyes scan every face as she walks.  
“Let’s sit over there!” Kiriko snaps her back to reality.  
“Okay.”

They head to a corner table near a well-dressed group—women and omnics wearing dresses in muted reds, whites, yellows, and blacks, all delicate and expensive-looking. Some laugh in groups while another group of men in suits toast to something.

“Okay, we’re looking for an omnic with three dots on his forehead, golden lines along the jaw and around the mouth. Shouldn’t be that hard to spot…”  
“Hey, look! When do you think Luna’s going to perform?” Kiriko says, distracted, pointing at the stage.  
“Kiriko! This is serious, you need to pay attention—”

Illari doesn’t notice a waiter approaching.  
“Anything for the ladies?”  
“…No, we—” Illari starts, but Kiriko cuts in.  
“Yes! We’ll take anything with fruit.”  
“Right away!”

The man nods and leaves.  
“Are you crazy?! We’re on a mission—we’re not drinking!” Illari whispers sharply.  
“Look, it’d be suspicious if we just stood around staring and didn’t drink, dance, or talk! And… we’re not alone here…”

Kiriko nods toward a gated section of the hall guarding access to the corridors, watched by a large omnic dressed like security, a purple scarf around his neck. Illari stares at him for a few seconds before turning back.  
“You have a point,” she admits.  
“I have a point!” Kiriko boasts.  
“Three… two… one…”

Kiriko leaves the table first, pretending to wave goodbye as she approaches a well-dressed group ahead, extending her hand to touch one of the women’s shoulders.  
“Excuse me, but I _loved_ your necklace—where did you get it?”

Illari follows shortly after, wandering aimlessly through the hall, observing rigid gazes. She watches Kiriko from afar, receiving a wink in return.

Her steps are short and uncertain. She’s never been the one to approach people—never really wanted to, and if she did, she’d give up within seconds. The few sips of her drink weren’t enough to grant her social immunity, to loosen her up. Still, she keeps moving, listening to the room, searching for an escape. Her tension returns quickly. Distracted, she nearly collides with a man trying to talk to her.

“Oh! Careful, haha,” the man says, holding her arm to stop the impact.  
“Ah, sorry!” Illari says awkwardly.  
“It’s okay… I noticed you from afar, and I thought you were very beautiful. I was wondering… would you like to dance with me when the party really gets going? I’d be honored.”

He takes her hand.  
“Uh… I… no, thank you. I… I’m already with someone…”

Illari quickly pulls her hand away and walks briskly toward the corridor leading to the restroom, near the guarded gate. The man says something as she leaves—almost inaudible—watching her go while his friends laugh behind him.

Illari enters the corridor, ignoring everything around her, pushes open the empty restroom door, and heads straight for the nearest sink. She breathes heavily, leaning against the luxurious counter. Anxiety floods her as countless thoughts race through her mind. For so long, she felt invisible—passing through places like a shadow cast by the sun, unnoticed. When that illusion shatters, she feels exposed, visible, with no ground beneath her feet.

Maybe it’s the result of spending so much time alone in Runasapi. It’s almost as if she died there that day, and ever since has wandered the world as a spirit—feelings she can’t control, that overwhelm her with darkness when they take hold. She sees herself again in her bathroom earlier, tears spilling into the sink after being held back for so long. But this time, the tears don’t even threaten to fall, suppressed by a quiet anger at herself for running away from the hall.

Kiriko is still talking to the woman in the hall when another man joins the conversation. He holds the woman by the waist; he looks a bit older than her, with straight, neatly combed hair, thick, solid arms, and a black suit with a dark handkerchief hanging from his jacket pocket. Kiriko keeps the endless small talk going with him and his wife, noticing the man’s crooked nose twitching as he talks and laughs at the things the woman says. Her attention drifts away along with the liquid in her glass. Quickly, the conversation becomes dull—she’s already gathered enough information. Time to get out of this chatter.

“…That trip was wild, wasn’t it, dear?” the woman says, recalling another story with her husband, proving just how rich they are. Kiriko still doesn’t understand how the conversation went from earrings and necklaces to a twenty-minute session of a wealthy couple bragging about their trips to the best resorts in the world. Kiriko has traveled the world with Overwatch—probably even more than they have—and done much more exciting things. That’s what she tells herself as she fakes a smile and nod.

“It was. In my opinion, it was the best one we’ve taken!” the man smiles.  
“Yeah… I imagine… Oh! I’ve already finished my drink—I’m going to get another!” Kiriko looks for an opening.  
“Oh, nonsense, dear! The waiter can bring you one,” the woman says, starting to raise her arm to call someone over.  
“No, no! That’s not necessary, I—I like walking…” Kiriko panics at the thought of staying there any longer, listening.  
“…All right then. It was a pleasure meeting you… uh… Lisa, right?” The woman’s face almost twists in confusion, but Kiriko quickly remembers the fake name.  
“Yes, yes! That’s right—pleasure’s mine…”

The goodbyes happen, and soon Kiriko finds herself alone in the hall again. She lets out a sigh of relief as she frees herself from the boring conversation. _Illar… where is…_ she thinks as she realizes the girl is gone. Her eyes sweep across every face in the room. She notices the hall lighting slowly turning yellow, focusing on the main area and leaving the table sections in deeper shadows, making it harder to spot Illari. At this point, Kiriko gives up and grabs her phone from inside her bag. Amid hidden kunai, she pulls out the device.

BZZZ

The phone vibrates inside Illari’s jacket pocket. She feels a flicker of irritation at the vibration—but this time, she’s almost grateful for it, pulled out of the whirlwind of thoughts she was trapped in. Her hand brings the phone up to her blurred vision.

Kiriko 7:50 PM 
Where are you??

It’s the only message on the screen. As Illari processes a reply, the sender herself appears, opening the bathroom door.

“Oh! You’re here,” Kiriko says with relief. “Are you crazy? I was worried.”  
“I’m sorry…” Illari turns toward her. “I… needed to get away from the crowd.”  
“…Are you okay?” Kiriko’s voice lands in Illari’s ears like cotton—soft and gentle.  
“…I am. I just… needed to calm down… we need to go back to the hall.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“I am. Focus on the mission, right?”  
“Right.” Kiriko places a hand on her shoulder.

Muffled by the walls, the music from the stage still plays in the background—slower now. Along with the soundscape, the lighting grows darker than before, warmer and more yellow, focused on the stage. The two walk down the corridor and re-enter the hall. People gather around the stage, waiting for something. The cello, piano, trumpet, trombone, and violin fall silent, spreading quiet across the room. Only a few whispered voices can be heard.

Illari and Kiriko slip through the crowd to reach a favorable spot.  
“Now it’s going to be impossible to find him!” Kiriko whispers.

They look toward the stage as the curtains behind the piano part. A slender female figure emerges from behind the thin fabric. Her voice cuts through every whisper—a striking, melodic sound.

A Sunday Kind of Love- Etta James

I want a Sunday kind of love  
A love to last past Saturday night 
And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight  
And I want a Sunday kind of love  
Oh, yeah, yeah

The entire hall follows Luna’s singing. Some guests leave their tables and move toward the center of the room, dancing with their partners.  
“You were right—her voice is incredible,” Illari admits. Her body slowly follows the rhythm while her eyes search the crowd for any sign of their target.  
“So… want to dance? You know… for the mission… cover!” Kiriko stumbles over her words, already expecting a no.  
“Sure,” Illari replies calmly. “For the mission, right?” she jokes.  
“Duh!” Kiriko grabs Illari’s hand, and the two head to the dance floor, gliding across the floor with the music. Kiriko holds Illari by the waist, feeling it sway right and left like liquid. Illari rests her arms on Kiriko’s shoulders, slowly moving with her.

“So that’s the ‘company,’” a voice says from behind. The same man who had bumped into Illari earlier watches them dance, slightly surprised.

“For someone who was stiff as a board earlier, you’re dancing pretty freely now,” Kiriko teases.  
“I’m committed to the cover,” Illari shoots back.  
“Oh, of course… Lilla…”

They exchange soft laughs as they follow the music. Luna now steps back, letting the instruments build a bridge to the next melody. Deep and sharp sounds—calm yet striking—mark the end of the song, beginning again with a spine-tingling trumpet.

Mon mec à moi- Patricia Kaas

Il joue avec mon cœur  
Il triche avec ma vie  
Il dit des mots menteurs 
Et moi je crois tout c'qu'il dit

Les chansons qu'il me chante  
Les rêves qu'il fait pour deux  
C'est comme les bonbons menthe  
Ça fait du bien quand il pleut

Couples across the hall merge into circles, skating across musical notes in near-synchronized movement. And right at the center, under pale yellow-white spotlights, Illari and Kiriko dance, momentarily distracted from their objective.

“Illari! Isn’t that the guy?!” A sudden spark of recognition makes Kiriko tilt her head toward an omnic walking toward the gated area beside the stage. Kiriko spins with Illari to change direction, placing Quispé where she can see the target.  
“That’s him!” Illari frowns as she watches him approach the massive guard, who lets him through the gate. “We need to get out of here—slowly, with me.”

Illari begins guiding them toward the edge of the crowd, spinning Kiriko along with her, passing several dancing couples. Just as they near the end of the mass of people, the same couple Kiriko had spoken with earlier appears among the faces.

“Oh! Hi! Want to switch partners??” the woman asks cheerfully, clinging to her husband.

“NO!!"
They shout in unison, spinning away and breaking the dance circle.

The girls slip through another cluster of people near the tables, forming a plan.  
“I’ve got an idea! Come with me,” Kiriko says, pulling Illari along.

They split up for a moment. Kiriko walks alone toward the towering guard, her steps light and calm as she gets his attention.  
“Excuse me! My friend is stuck in the women’s restroom… could you help us?”

Her voice shifts into something higher and more delicate—innocent, even slightly annoying. The giant shows no reaction, merely grunting and following Kiriko. His heavy footsteps echo alongside the light clicks of her heels. They pass a janitor’s closet door and cross the men’s restroom.

“Right there!” Kiriko opens the bathroom door, pointing to the third stall as they enter. The omnic moves ahead slowly.  
“Ma’am? …Everything all right in there…?”

He approaches in slow steps until—

BAM!

Illari strikes him square in the head with a broom handle! Another heavy thud follows as he collapses unconscious, the impact shaking the room.

“Nice one!” They finish the move with a high-five.

Neutralizing the omnic takes time. Carrying his unconscious body and hiding it in the janitor’s closet costs them precious minutes they could’ve spent chasing the target. The body lands atop rags and cleaning supplies before they slip out. Kiriko snatches a silver key from the omnic’s belt as Illari slams the storage door shut.

“Let’s go!” Illari takes the lead.

At the gate, they discreetly unlock the door and enter the corridor behind the stage without raising suspicion. The hallway is lined with burgundy-red carpet, similar to the entrance, dotted with doors leading to an elevator at the end. They hurry toward it, talking as they go.

“Do you remember how to get to the rooftop?” Kiriko asks, struggling to keep balance in her heels.  
“The floor plan the captain gave us says the only way up is by stairs,” Illari replies, slowing as they reach the elevator doors. “We can take the elevator as far as possible, then use the stairs for the rest.”  
“Oh! I just remembered something,” Kiriko says, pressing the call button. A red light flashes as the elevator descends. “One of the residents told me about when her tacky earring went missing. She had to go up to the eighteenth floor just to check the lobby cameras… A surveillance room could be useful, right?”

They step into the elevator.  
“That’s a good call… we don’t know if we’re alone,” Illari says, pressing the button marked **18**. The elevator jolts with metallic sounds before rising, stirring a bit of anxiety in her. The display above the door counts each floor upward, red digits ticking by with a chime. Alongside the mechanical noises, calm music plays—a piano melody Illari barely notices. Kiriko hums along.

“Hey! I’ve heard this somewhere before… is this a sample?” Kiriko tilts her head toward the small speaker, only realizing too late that the doors are opening with a sharp chime and the scrape of heavy metal.

“Let’s go,” Illari says, stepping out first, her expression serious as she looks for signs of the monitoring room.

The hall remains lively as Luna sings. Couples dance, drinks circulate among tables, guests remain distracted by the movement around the dance floor. Several omnics dressed like the brute they knocked out move between the tables, all heading toward the gate—now unguarded.

“Hm…” One of the omnics grunts upon noticing the missing guard. Two more appear behind him—same outfits, different builds. They follow the central omnic. He studies the gate, nodding left and right. The other two split off into the hall. Meanwhile, the omnic forces the gate open discreetly, pulling a silenced pistol from inside his jacket. A light tap with the grip shatters part of the lock, the sound swallowed by a saxophone slicing through the music.

“Great,” Illari says sarcastically, staring at the fully locked maintenance room door.  
“Leave it to me, sunshine!” Kiriko pulls one of her hidden kunai from her bag, gripping it blade-down. With her thumb pressed against the arc at the end of the handle, she strikes the lock, twisting the tip inside for a few seconds. Using the heel of her palm, she applies leverage, snapping one of the internal pins.

A metallic click echoes through the corridor.  

TLECK

The door opens.  
“Madame!” Kiriko gestures theatrically, holding the door for Illari.  
“Ugh!” Illari rolls her eyes as she walks in.

The room is filled with monitors, all powered off. Someone should have been watching the building, but with the activity on the rooftop, the room—and the rest of the building—has been left empty, everything focused on the main hall. A chair scrapes as Illari activates the screens. Blue light floods dozens of monitors, and a window appears against the vast blue background.

PASSWORD REQUIRED

The words appear in large letters above a text box.

“Well, of course,” Illari mutters, bumping the keyboard.  
“Relax. I know someone who can help us!” Kiriko raises her phone to her ear after typing something. Illari turns toward her, confused.

On the other end of the phone, a hand in a dark room slides across the desk, grabbing the cellphone positioned right beside a mouse.  
“Hi, fox!” the sweet, seductive voice says over the phone. “You know, I tapped a few calls from the Hashimotos… might be of interest to you…”  
“Not now… tell me about that later… I need something,” Kiriko replies. Illari, on the other end of the line, grumbles something Sombra can’t quite make out.  
“Of course… for the right price.”  
“I need you to unlock the cameras at the Quantum Plaza Hotel in London… urgently!”  
“Only if you give me the number of the handsome ninja…”  
“Ugh!… Fine! We’ll deal with that later.”

Sombra smiles on the other end of the call.

In the monitor room, Kiriko hears the sound of typing through the call—fast, frantic keystrokes that stop and start again.  
“Who are you calling?!” Illari circles Kiriko, trying to check her phone.  
“Relax!” The typing stops, and the voice returns on the phone.  
“Eee… Boop!” The sound is followed by the monitors lighting up, switching to multiple camera feeds around the building.  
“Thanks, we’ll settle the price later.” Kiriko pulls the phone away from her ear, letting Illari hear Sombra’s last words.  
“See you later, chica,” she says before the call ends.

Illari is immediately taken back a few days earlier, still in Numbani, when she heard that same phrase over the phone, spoken by that same voice.  
“You’re asking Talon for services?!” Illari says loudly.  
“Keep it down!” Kiriko panics. “Look… I lied a little about her… the thing is, a lot of people inside Overwatch use her services. There’s nothing she can’t access, and Sombra always goes to whoever pays more… so… why not?”

Illari turns toward the monitors, shaking her head in disapproval, a scowl on her face. She begins analyzing the cameras one by one—empty rooms and corridors—until she switches to camera twelve, showing two floors above theirs.  
“I figured,” she says.

The white stairwell door opens. From it, an omnic emerges, accompanied by several other goons in suits, carrying heavy rifles as they escort Kiriko and Illari’s target. The omnic’s steps are hurried as he moves down the corridor toward a maintenance room stairwell. As soon as he reaches the door, other guards seal off all entrances and take positions in front of them. Some wander the corridor out of boredom, while those closer to the ends check their rifles.

BAM

The sound booms from the door behind one of the omnics at the start of the hallway. The impact puts all the guards on edge, weapons raised toward the noise.

BAM

Like the first, another blow nearly breaks the door. Now more omnics ready their rifles, filling the corridor with clicks and mechanical sounds. The guard closest to the door steps back a few paces, aiming at the sign reading _“Authorized Personnel Only”_ hanging above it. The tension builds in the silence between the hits, growing heavier with the quiet on the other side of the entrance. Until—

BAM! CRASH!

The door shatters into pieces, and translucent blue arcs trace a path followed by a fox of the same ethereal blue color. The animal darts wildly toward the guards, attacking the first one it sees with astonishing speed, leaving its target no time to react. Other omnics behind raise their weapons and pull the trigger, but before the bullets can fire, two kunai jam into the barrels, overheating them until they explode in the guards’ faces.

Kiriko spins her blades as she runs down the corridor, leaping at more guards. Illari advances alongside her, grabbing one of the rifles dropped by a guard struck by the Kitsune. Together they attack the omnics—Kamori whirls her kunai in every direction, delivering kicks here and there to enemies trying to flank them. Quispé smashes the butt of the rifle into one approaching target, then unleashes glowing rounds at enemies Kiriko can’t reach. The two fight as one, blending close combat with ranged attacks.

Kiriko lands a spinning kick on one target and pauses to look at Illari, who’s fighting an omnic and doesn’t notice another enemy approaching from behind.  
“Illari!”

The girl’s hair whips as she turns toward Kiriko, just as a kunai flies past her face, slicing through the air and striking the enemy in the head, dropping him.  
“Nice!” Illari smiles, narrowing her eyes.

TRA TRA TRA TRA 

Illari’s weapon sings as it hits the remaining targets. Kiriko drives a kunai into one goon’s chest. The two twist and spin through complex movements, hurling kunai and bullets at the corridor’s enemies.

The final blade spins and strikes the last remaining foe. He falls stiffly, metal tearing through his metallic carcass.  
“I think that’s it,” Kiriko says, wiping sweat from her forehead.

Still silent, Illari walks over to one of the fallen omnics. Their faces are covered by a device packed with purple cylinders embedded across the surface of their heads. The one she approaches has a kunai lodged in its neck. She pats the suit jacket until she finds a dark card with gold lettering.  
“Just as I suspected…” she says, examining the card.

Authorized — Allow Entry 
(₶)

“What did you find?” Kiriko crosses the corridor.  
Illari simply turns the card toward Kamori. They both recognize the symbol—part of their training required them to know these Talon details. Maximilien, the infamous criminal partnered with Talon, owner of the symbol stamped on the card.  
“Doesn’t surprise me he’s behind this… it’s totally his style…” She lightly kicks the fallen body.  
“Me neither… let’s report this to the captain later. Let’s finish this.”

…

The metal door to the rooftop opens. The omnic walks slowly, holding the briefcase. Gunfire from the floors below is muffled by the wind cutting around him. He approaches the edge, weaving past air vents housed in metal structures. In the distance, red lights draw closer in the darkness, accompanied by the whirring of turbines—slowly revealing a dark drone.

The omnic raises the briefcase toward the newcomer, lifting his hand as the drone opens a compartment to receive it. Just as he’s about to hand it over, a kunai slices through the air, striking his hand.

“AARGH!” The roar of pain erupts along with the clang of the kunai and the crash of the briefcase hitting the ground. Realizing Kiriko and Illari are present, the man dives behind one of the metal ventilation structures, pulling a pistol from his inner pocket. The briefcase lies far from both sides, shielded by the metal wall, as the target fires three shots toward the girls.

“Careful!” Illari shouts, scrambling along the metal beams supporting large antennas topped with glowing points. Kiriko rolls forward, closing in on the fallen briefcase, while Quispé returns fire with the stolen rifle.

“Cover me!” Kiriko says, still crawling. Her body pressed against the rooftop floor dirties her clothes as she lunges toward the case.

POW!

One bullet grazes the metal of a beam dangerously close to Kiriko. She calculates quickly—the briefcase is positioned favorably for the shooter, a spot where he could easily hit her. Her mind floods with possibilities, tension and adrenaline locking her thoughts. Without overthinking, she acts.

She breaks from cover amid the exchange of fire, pulling a Suzu from her pouch. It hits the ground just as pistol shots strike her skin—three bullets crumple and clatter harmlessly to the floor. Feeling the surge of immunity, she teleports behind the target, slamming into him and knocking the gun from his hand, kicking it away in the chaos.

From behind cover, Illari watches the tense scene as her weapon cools against her chest. The chamber and barrel vent thin smoke that takes time to dissipate. Near the rooftop entrance, she hears footsteps running up the stairs behind the door.  
“Kiriko, THERE ARE MORE COMING!” she shouts, leaping to another position with a view of the entrance.

Kiriko grapples with the omnic in close combat, dodging blows while driving painful elbows into his body—though he doesn’t seem to feel much. With anger etched across his face, he fights back, shouting,  
“You don’t know what you’re doing!” His fist nearly connects with Kamori. “What you’re trying to stop!”

“I know it’s nothing good!” Kiriko shoves him away, breaking the clinch and preparing another sequence of strikes.

“Your childish naivety can’t comprehend the magnitude of our business. Your limited human mind can’t see the bright future awaiting us…” Kiriko lands several kicks, cutting off his speech. “…but only if… you… and Overwatch get out of our… WAY!!”

In the flurry of blows, he finds an opening and drives a punch into the side of Kiriko’s face. She’s thrown aside by the impact, blood spraying from her nose, dark red drops staining the floor.

More omnics pour in through the door—the same kind they fought on the lower floors. Illari holds them back in a firefight while Kiriko and the target continue exchanging blows. She hears only gunfire and the omnic’s distant voice. Her rising anxiety sharpens her focus, turning into precise shots that drop three of the six omnics to the ground.

TRA TRATRA

A burst of gunfire punches through the metal cover near her, forcing her to reposition while returning fire. Between moments of action, she glances at the briefcase and at the large structure housing the electrical system for the upper floors—blocking her view of Kiriko and the target’s movements.

On the ground, wiping blood away with a pained expression, Kiriko looks up as the omnic advances with a kick. Her reflexes scream; she dodges and regains her footing. Her head throbs, her nose burns, but she keeps fighting—dropping to one knee, then standing again. With a sudden move, she spins into a surprise kick. The omnic, caught off guard, takes the full impact to the chest and is hurled brutally toward the doors guarding the electrical panel.

“ARGH!” Kiriko yells, pouring every ounce of strength into the kick. The omnic stumbles and crashes into the electrical components.

TZZZZZ

“AAaaAAAaaH!” he screams in pain as white flashes and electrical crackles surge through his body, pinned to the panel. Some rooftop lights flicker; others go dark.

Free at last, Kiriko runs to the briefcase, drops of blood dripping from her nose as she reaches it.  
“ILLARI!” she waves the case toward the girl hidden behind the metal structures.

“WATCH OUT!” Illari’s eyes widen as she sees the omnic tearing himself free from the panel, weapon in hand. Before she can swing the rifle toward him, shots from the other goons force her to stay engaged, keeping her busy with the remaining enemies.

With his suit burned in several spots, the target points the gun at Kiriko. The girl, briefcase in hand, tries to flee in time—but the trigger is pulled.  
“That’s enough!” the omnic says impatiently.

Clek clek clek

The sound of an empty magazine makes Kiriko’s fearful expression dissolve into a foolish smile. Seizing the chance, she leaps at the omnic, using the briefcase to shove him to the ground.

Illari hears the sounds of the struggle with alarm as she deals with her own fight against the last remaining enemies—now down to just two, after she drops another with a shot to the chest.

Her weapon overheats again. Eyes closed, she focuses on listening to their movement, both still hiding in the same place as before. Illari senses them aiming toward her cover.  
The weapon cools significantly. She opens her glowing eyes in response—her anxiety rising with every new sound cutting across the rooftop. Suddenly her mind reaches back to the moment they were about to enter the party, when Kiriko asked her to take a deep breath. It helps. Right here, right now, she holds her breath for a few seconds, then exhales through her mouth, releasing a faint mist between her teeth from the cold.

Weapon ready, eyes steady and centered, she turns and fires a burst of shots, striking a metal pipe tangled among the air vents. The pipe ruptures, releasing a dense cloud of steam that engulfs the enemies’ position. Amid the chaos, flashes of gunfire slice through the white cloud, narrowly missing Illari.

Kiriko pins the omnic to the ground as he desperately tries to break free.  
“You don’t understand! Please! Overwatch will never end the war acting like this!… There is a way to end all of it… it was promised to me! To all the wronged!” the target writhes as he argues with her.  
“Your side is the one causing the deaths! You might just be a pawn in all this, but you’re stopping me from bringing justice!” Kiriko says, her words carrying a pleading tone.

She remembers sparing one of the Hashimoto goons back in the Yokai days—one of the men just trying to make a living in the wrong place. His spirit had been confused and disturbed, much like what now emanates from this target. Hatred awakening, mixed with confusion.

Focused on understanding what’s happening with the omnic, Kiriko eases her grip—and he escapes, shoving her away. She snaps back to reality, lying on her back, staring at the omnic rising with clenched fists, unaware of a silhouette appearing behind him.

“AAARGH!” Illari kicks the omnic from behind. The blow makes him stagger into the railing and tumble onto the slanted metal ledge, sliding down and nearly falling off the building—saved only by one hand gripping the edge.  
“You okay?” the girl asks, helping Kamori to her feet. A blurred red stain of dried blood still marks Kiriko’s nostril; her dress is torn in places and completely filthy.  
“I am…” Kiriko says, still dazed.  
“Okay—the briefcase!” Quispé runs to it. Standing out against the stone floor, she steps over, grabs it, and brushes dirt from the dark leather.

North of them, Kiriko steadies herself when she hears a desperate plea.  
“PLEASE! DON’T LET ME DIE!” the omnic begs, still hanging there. The two exchange a look as more goons pour in through the rooftop door.  
“Shit!” Illari curses. “Kiriko, take the briefcase!” She tosses it to her. Kamori catches it and looks back to where the target clings to the edge.

“LIKE I SAID… I’M JUST ONE OF THE PIECES… PLEASE!… I WASTED MY LIFE SEEKING JUSTICE FOR MY PEOPLE… I ONLY FOUND MORE HATE…” His metal fingers slowly slip, weakening his hold. Kiriko approaches the railing, her chest flooded with confusion and guilt radiating from him.  
“We can help you break away from Talon—if you accept. You could be a great source of information. We’ll give you all the protection you need!” Kiriko shouts down to him.  
“That would be… wonderful!” He clings tighter, closer and closer to the fall.

Kiriko vaults the railing, gripping it as she steps onto the slanted metal panels, carefully measuring each step. Her gaze lifts from the ground to the omnic still hanging on. Her hand reaches out to him, hair whipped by the wind across her worried face. In the background, Illari fires at incoming enemies, shouting something Kiriko can’t hear.

Gently, their fingers meet. Holding the railing, Kiriko helps the omnic climb up. From behind, she catches a fragment of Illari’s voice amid the gunfire:  
“WHAT’S GOING ON OVER THERE, KIRIKO?!”

“Thank you… thank you very much…” the omnic says, still holding Kiriko’s hand as he nearly reaches the rooftop. They move slowly up the incline. He turns his face to her, voice robotic and grim.  
“I’m sorry about this…”

His grip surges with immense strength, yanking her toward him. His other arm hooks over the railing. Kiriko is caught off guard, gives in to the force, and slips on the metal beneath her feet. With the sheer strength of the pull, her foot leaves the panel and she’s flung out from the building. The omnic vaults safely over the railing, straightens his suit—while Illari witnesses the betrayal.

“KIRIKO!!!” Her scream cuts through the chaos. She sprints toward the railing, dodging gunfire. Her heart pounds with every step; anxiety swells, fear of failing flooding her. Reaching the edge, she smashes the omnic with the rifle butt, knocking him down near the briefcase, then keeps moving—vaulting the railing and sliding down the slope.

Kiriko, falling, shows no reaction. Her panic is numbed by guilt and despair. Her attempt to teleport back up fails; her fingers tangle as she tries to conjure.

From afar, she sees Illari diving toward her, eyes fixed, plunging toward her chest. Kiriko can’t hide her surprise at the sight of brown hair spinning through the air, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes. Her body glides more slowly than Illari’s, who focuses on dropping fast enough to reach her. In an instant, they collide—Illari catching her in a tight embrace mid-fall, strong arms wrapping around Kiriko’s body. Kamori squeezes her eyes shut in terror.

In freefall, the wind fighting them both, Illari bends the air currents to her will. Golden sparks coil around a spiraling wind, intensifying by the second. Soon the shimmering particles stretch into streaks matching the glow of Illari’s eyes and markings—bands of light spinning with them as they’re hurled toward the mirrored building.

CRASH!!

Shards of glass scatter across the tiled floor of an apartment. The two tumble across the living room rug, still locked in an embrace. Illari opens her eyes—now back to their normal colors, dark pupils and golden irises, her markings faded. Her ragged breathing breaks the new silence.

Kiriko, sprawled atop her, lifts herself. Their eyes meet, faces close—intimate.  
“Are you okay?” Illari asks.  
“…Yeah.” Though her head is racing, her body finally relaxes enough to feel every wound carved into her arms, legs, torso, and head.  
“You can… get off,” Illari says awkwardly, cut off as Kiriko already scrambles up.  
“Y-yeah… sorry…” Pain reminds her why they’re here. She remembers the omnic’s betrayal, remembers how foolish she was to trust him, remembers that Illari is hurt because of her—and that they failed the mission because of her. Alongside the physical pain, guilt lashes her mind.

Glass crunches beneath Illari’s movements as she props herself on the sleek leather couch and stands. Kiriko stares at the hole blown through the apartment’s window.

…

“I—I’m sorry… I screwed everything up… I—I thought he was being honest with me… I’m so… stupid!” She squeezes her eyes shut, fists clenched, trying to contain her guilt.  
“Kiriko…” Illari begins.  
“If I’d just stayed by your side… and listened to you… Damn it!” Kiriko keeps berating herself.  
“Let’s get out of here… we’ll think about it later,” Illari says firmly, rubbing the wound on her arm as she walks over. “Come on.”  
“….” Kiriko turns to her, eyes red with guilt, mouth tight with anger, hands bound by frustration.

They stare at each other for a moment. Illari’s neutral tone—showing neither anger nor reproach—deeply unsettles Kiriko, who blames herself entirely. Together, they limp down the back stairs and leave the building, wounded.

 ONE DAY LATER

“…the criminal activity was identified in a high-end building in downtown London, the Quantum Plaza residential complex… the night was marked by one of the city’s parties, bringing together celebrities and influential figures from the business world, even featuring the presence of French singer Luna… and while the party was taking place in the building’s main hall, a group of unidentified criminals robbed the upper floors of the building, leaving behind forced doors, holes and bullet casings, destroyed lights, and the glass wall of one of the apartments reduced to shards… So far, the perpetrators have not been identified. All movement was not captured by the cameras, which leads authorities to believe there was a breach in the monitoring room’s security system… We’ll be back with reporter Sanchez at the scene after the commercials…”

The holographic television in the corner of the base cafeteria plays the report about yesterday’s events. Illari watches the lies being told on the news while eating her breakfast, her body still aching after all the action. Neither of them received any punishment for failing the mission, but the pain from the bruises more than makes up for that gap. It seems the information wasn’t all that important, but it still caused Captain Chase a certain headache, making her worry about covering up Overwatch’s involvement in the building.

She and Kiriko returned badly injured from the mission and are now under the care of Dr. Ziegler. After having their wounds treated, they were given two weeks of rest to recover, and in the second week they’ll receive joint training before returning to active duty. Since the moment they arrived at the base, Kiriko has been keeping to herself. In her mind, guilt keeps pounding, and Illari knows that feeling well—it even brings back other mistakes you’ve made in the past. The spirits around her now carry worry and a lack of balance. Her playful, relaxed demeanor is crushed by the desire to prove to herself that she won’t make mistakes like that again. Illari understands that feeling perfectly, and even though she knows what it’s like, she’s never managed to overcome it. It’s hard to comfort someone when you don’t even know how to get out of that situation yourself.

The TV suddenly becomes uninteresting and her cereal runs out. She gets up and leaves the mess hall, still thinking about the current situation.

Sitting on the sun-warmed ground of the morning light, Kiriko leans her back against the plant bed on the base’s terrace. She meditates while moving her lips up and down, whispering something. Her face is serene, her light, loose hair swaying in the wind.

Illari approaches the girl and leans against one of the columns of the entrance arch while observing Kamori. She focuses on small details: the red mark on her cheek, some freshly healed injuries on her arms, the print on her T-shirt with a band logo she doesn’t recognize, and her aqua-green strands swaying near her neck. Finally, her gaze settles on Kiriko’s mouth, moving in whispers that spark Illari’s curiosity. She briefly thinks about the paper Kiriko handed her—about meditation—and whether that technique really works. She remembers moments when Kiriko was a bundle of nerves and frustration, barely speaking, her face serious and heavy—the opposite of what she sees now: a peace emanating from around her.

"Do you need something?" Kiriko’s voice breaks the moment. She hasn’t opened her eyes or even moved; she just speaks.

"Oh!… sorry… I didn’t mean to interrupt," Illari pulls back.

"You don’t need to leave…" Kiriko stands up, breaking an invisible veil of peace. Her fingers slide toward a pen and a piece of paper; she scribbles a note and sets the pen aside again, leaving an awkward silence.

"…Did you see the news?" Illari asks, trying to keep the conversation going.

"No. What lie are they telling?" Kiriko stretches her legs.

"That it was a robbery…"

"They could’ve been more creative." Illari senses a trace of the Kiriko from a week ago.

…

"Are you still upset?" Illari asks.

"…" Kiriko holds her sore arm while stretching. "What do you think? It’s like you said—I’m childish and I don’t take anything seriously. If I were smarter, I would’ve wiped that guy out."

Any remnant of peace from the meditation is destroyed, replaced once again by anger and guilt.

"That’s not quite how it is…" Illari begins. "You did what—"

"CAN YOU JUST YELL AT ME FOR ONCE?!" Kiriko snaps. "You know damn well this is my fault, Illari. This, and so many other times when I just decided to blame someone else. Remember when you hurt your leg in King’s Row because I was listening to music and didn’t hear you calling for help? Or when Genji almost died saving me because I thought I could go head-on against that masked Talon guy? Do you get it? I always mess everything up."

She takes a breath, her voice trembling.

"After that briefing meeting, I felt hurt by the things you said… but it was all true. And now I understand it was all true. I should thank you for throwing everything in my face that time. So please, do it again. Say what you really think of me. So I can improve. Maybe become like you… or… I don’t know…"

She turns to grab her things scattered on the ground, her voice shifting from rage to a desperate plea. It hurts Illari’s heart to know that words she spoke long ago still linger in Kiriko’s mind.

"I’m not going to yell at you," Illari says softly. "What I said back then wasn’t true, okay? I was just irritated and confused with myself. When you get like this, you say things that don’t make sense… just like you’re doing now. Blaming yourself like this will never make you better. I learned that the hard way."

Did I really?  the thought crosses Illari’s mind.

"The truth is… if you want to be better, you’ll have to let go of this self-punishment."

She feels a sharp pain in her chest—hypocrisy stinging back at her.

"…Now I feel even more stupid," Kiriko mutters. "For yelling at you for no reason. Illari… I’m just… frustrated!" She drops back onto the ground, leaning against the same spot as before. "Ow!… I forgot my shoulder still hurts."

Illari lets out a small laugh. Kiriko looks at her, slightly confused.

"Laughing at my pain? How rude, Miss Quispé," Kiriko jokes. It’s a relief to hear that tone again.

Still smiling, Illari walks over and sits beside Kamori, leaning her back against the shaded wall.

"So… are you just going to keep staring at me, or are you going to teach me how to meditate?"
"Wait, what?" Kiriko blurts out, startled. "Seriously??"  
"So… how do I do it?"  
"Whoa… okay… uh…" She tries to remember, still completely lost. "…First… get into a comfortable position! But not one that makes you fall asleep. I usually kneel… like this."

Kamori turns her legs and folds them beneath her, resting her body on her calves, both hands placed on her thighs.

"Okay…" Illari imitates the position, though with her legs a bit farther apart. "And now?"  
"When you close your eyes, you focus on your breathing. Once you get used to inhaling deeply through your nose and releasing everything through your mouth, you think about something that comforts you—like a place, or a person, a smell, or a voice…"

Kiriko watches Illari breathe slowly, pushing the air from her lungs into the wind. Her loose hair sways along with Kiriko’s, and her vision is overtaken by Illari’s serene beauty, tainted by her secret crush. Kiriko turns her face away, looking back down at her chipped nails. Soon, her eyes close and she takes a deep breath.

The morning turns into afternoon, warm and comfortable, with the autumn breeze dancing between Kiriko and Illari, both immersed in their own inner peace. Kiriko feels that same breeze within her space—sakura trees shedding petals around her circle of comfort. Outside of it, Illari hasn’t yet accessed her own space; her vision is clouded by darkness mixed with abstract shapes trying to form in her mind—things like the image of Chuño, the texture of her childhood toys, the taste of coffee with cinnamon, the comfort of the fabric of her favorite scarf, the smell of her exfoliating cream—everything she loves to feel…

And amid that chaos of senses, she feels the happiness of a very specific laugh. A laugh paired with the taste of muffins. A laugh mixed with the characteristic smell of a basketball’s rubber. A laugh to the sound of YMCA. A laugh under the starlit moonlight of a late night. The moon inside her mind grows, threatening to form a place to sit and admire—but it suddenly transforms into a bright flash that snaps Illari out of the trance.

"I think you’re getting the hang of it!" Kiriko says as Quispé comes back to herself. Illari’s vision slowly readjusts to the day as she turns toward Kiriko, sitting beside her and watching her.

"…I think… I think so," she replies, slightly flustered.  
"Do you feel lighter?"  
"…Do _you_ feel lighter?" Illari shoots back.  
"Actually, yeah! But I asked about you."  
"…I do too…"

They look at each other for another brief moment.

It’s hard to say what exactly happened there. Illari feels a deep need to help Kiriko forget about the mission, to make sure she sees her cracking her usual jokes, keeping everything on track—especially knowing how horrible the pain of guilt can be. But as strong as Illari’s attempt to help is, Kiriko seems to respond with mutual support, a strange exchange of care—one looking out for the other.

…

The afternoon continues with the two of them going to lunch together. They chatter about music when Illari asks about the band on Kiriko’s T-shirt. After eating, they stop by the base infirmary to take their medication—a routine that stretches on for an entire week, filled with boring days lying in bed. Until the day they decide to celebrate a delayed Halloween, when Kiriko, Illari, Hana, Genji, Sloan, Angela, Mei, Juno, Cassidy, Niran, Baptiste, and Lúcio get together for a horror movie marathon.

For Illari, it’s fun—except for the part where she gets so scared during _The Shining_ that she clings to Kiriko like a frightened cat. Her face turns pale, not from fear, but from embarrassment afterward.

The following week, joint training begins. Both have recovered from the more serious injuries, but Illari feels her body tired and sluggish. Kiriko, on the other hand, spent the rest week doing painful push-ups in her room, which helped keep her body from going stiff—but because of her stubbornness, she now feels every muscle hurting twice as much due to improper training.

They arrive together at Overwatch’s outdoor training course. Dr. Ziegler is calibrating treadmills and stationary bikes when she notices the girls approaching, lifting her hand in a friendly wave.

"Hello, girls!"

…

"First, we’ll start with the basics—cardio! You need to get back into the rhythm missions demand. First, ten minutes on each piece of equipment." She points to the treadmill beside her.  
"Thirty minutes of uninterrupted exercise?? Are you trying to kill us, Doctor??" Kiriko complains.  
"Don’t worry, it’s at the pace of a walk!" Ziegler says as she turns to leave. "I’ll come back later and increase the pace!"

Illari glances at Kiriko and heads to one of the treadmills; Kamori does the same. Overall, the activity isn’t too exhausting. The pace is gentle, and with nothing to talk about, they just keep walking. Kiriko spends the time fiddling with her phone while Illari focuses on the panel displaying her pace. The absence of voices is filled by the mechanical hum of the machines and the sound of their footsteps.

"…How are you doing? About the mission?" Illari breaks the silence.  
"…Ah… a little better…" Kiriko answers, caught off guard. "After spending an entire night with all the muscles in my arm throbbing in pain, I realized it’s… ridiculous… you know… to keep blaming myself like that."  
"Yeah…" That same hypocritical stab of guilt pierces Illari’s chest. "…Ridiculous."  
"…Too bad all this happened. I don’t think we’ll even have a gap in our schedule to sneak off to the mall now."  
"We’ll… find a day…" Illari says in a calm, comforting voice, offering Kiriko a shy smile with a gentle look.

Kiriko returns the look.

Now accustomed to the pace, Illari dares to increase the treadmill’s speed. Kiriko does the same. Something Quispé has already noticed about the two of them: they both share impatience with themselves, a tendency to challenge their own limits whenever something feels too easy. That certainly binds them in some way.

Two beeps sound as Illari increases the speed again. Out of the corner of her eye, Kiriko slides her thumb and increases it three levels higher. The sound of the challenge reaches Illari, and the two start a “competition” of pace, the treadmills getting faster and faster, forcing them to run harder and harder.

Beep! 
Beep!!
Beep!!!

Kiriko pulls ahead, running in place, already dripping with sweat. Illari stays a few levels below, just watching how long the girl can last. Her eyebrows frame a teasing, challenging look.

Kiriko stumbles when she loses sync with the treadmill; her tired body is thrown backward, sending her tumbling down. A groan of pain escapes her, mixed with hearty laughter as she lies on the courtyard floor.

"My god! Are you okay? Hahahaha!" Illari laughs, infected by Kiriko’s laughter. Five beeps echo from the panel before she steps off the machine to help her.  
"I am—hahaha—yeah, I’m fine… haha."

Kiriko grabs Illari’s hand as she’s pulled back to her feet. Her body lurches forward from the force, bringing them into an awkward, unplanned embrace—faces close, Illari holding her by the wrist, both still laughing, bodies aching, eyes sparkling in the sunlight. Their wrists separate, and their gazes pull away.

"…Uh… we still have training, I think," Illari snaps back to reality.  
"Sure… let’s just… walk now!" Kiriko laughs back.

…

They talk while the sun warms their heads during the treadmill walk, their voices growing more breathless with each sentence until both the topics and their energy run out. A few more minutes pass before the alarm Angela set goes off. Kiriko hops off the machine and turns to Illari.

"I’ll let Angela know! Be right back." With little explanation, she runs toward the courtyard exit.

…

Earlier, Ziegler had returned to her office to resume her endless paperwork, even forgetting about Illari and Kiriko outside as she gazed at the blooming garden through her window.

A yellow butterfly landed on a sunflower right in front of her, filling her with comfort along with her cup of coffee on that sunny afternoon. Her thoughts wandered beyond the pauses between reports—conversations with Genji, nights with Fareeha, or two weeks ago when she met Jack Morrison at a grimy diner. She remembers what Fareeha once told her: _“You spend so much time caring about others that you forget yourself, Angela.”_ Hearing that truth hurt for a long time.

Nothing can explain how good it feels to help the world through her work—but realizing that maybe this feeling isn’t everything is inevitable.

The coffee grows sweeter and thicker as it reaches the bottom. Angela sets the cup aside and returns to her desk. Before she can sit, Fareeha appears at the door with a knock.

"Hi!" she says cheerfully.  
"Oh! Hi, Fareeha. How was the mission?" Angela replies warmly, unable to fully hide her exhaustion.  
"It was good, everything went fine… uh… did I come at a bad time?"  
"No… no, sorry. I’m just… thinking a lot," Angela says as the chair creaks when she sits.  
"About… something in particular?" Amari steps closer.  
"No… you know… lots of things at once… but forget it. Tell me about your day," Angela says while sorting stacks of folders on the desk.  
"Seriously, Angie, if something’s bothering you… I’d really like to know. You know you can’t pretend everything’s fine," Fareeha says, leaning against the desk.  
"…_Sigh_… I feel like I’m doing something wrong… I just… don’t know what it is."  
"…Maybe you should be honest with yourself… you know… do what you feel like doing."  
"I wish it were that easy… look… don’t get me wrong, but… I think for now it’s better to avoid our… _moments_… until I understand what’s going on with me."  
"…I understand… but know that I really like you, Angie… truly."

They look at each other, pupils shimmering. Amari holds her gaze for a long moment.

Her face turns away as her voice leaves with her, while Angela remains frozen in her corner, flooded by a whirlwind of confused thoughts, feelings, and desires.

PENULTIMATE DAY OF RECOVERY

"Look at that one! It looks like a… a… smoking dragon!" Kiriko pointed at a cloud with a funny shape.  
"It looks more like a fish," Illari disagreed.

The two lay on the grass in the garden near the training courtyard, taking a break after jumping back and forth during a mobility drill. Angela had given them some time to rest after the exhausting activity. The sky, where they traced hidden shapes among the clouds, was now tinted with a pink-to-orange gradient—the first colors announcing the arrival of night. They chatted amicably, lying close to one another. Kiriko glanced at the sun hiding behind the clouds, her shift almost starting…

"Hey, wanna sneak out for a bit?" she said as she stood up.  
"...Uh… where to?"  
"I know a cool place!"  
"I don’t know…" While Kiriko was already getting up, Illari sat on the grass. "What if Dr. Ziegler comes back and can’t find us?"  
"Ahh, it’ll be really quick! And you’ll get to see my bike!"  
"Bike??"  
"You’ll see!" She held out her hand to help Illari up.  
"Okay… but it has to be quick!" she said seriously.  
"Sure, sure!" Kiriko looked happy.  
"...And… I’m only going if you promise we’ll stop to get some muffins…"  
"Hahaha… sure, I promise!" They exchanged sweet smiles.

...

Before leaving, Illari stopped by her room to grab a jacket—the day had started to grow colder as night approached.

VUSHH

The door slid open and she entered the dark room, lit only by a late-afternoon sunbeam peeking through the curtain gap. The white jacket hung on a hook near the wardrobe. She spotted it and started walking toward the corner of the room when she felt something lightly kicked—enough to notice it on the floor. She looked down, knowing it wasn’t like her to leave things scattered around. What she saw surprised her: a letter, sealed inside an envelope. Holding it, she turned it over, considering opening it right away, but Kiriko stopped her from outside.

"All set?" the girl called out.  
"Almost… hold on." Illari set the letter aside, still curious about its contents. Without trouble, she grabbed the jacket and left, casting one last curious glance at the letter resting on the desk.

...

The two headed together to the Overwatch garage, a place Illari had never been before—completely new to her. Her curious eyes scanned everything around her, recognizing agents’ cars and reading speed limit and sector signs.

"Heeey—_ta-da!_" Kiriko pointed at a red-and-black sport motorcycle, its wheels outlined with aqua-green lights, worn tires, and stickers along the side of the passenger seat. "I always wanted to use it on missions, but they never let me! Imagine how badass that would be."  
"It’s really pretty… and… looks like you’ve had fun with it," Illari said, running her hand over the worn tire with a chuckle.  
"Yeah… okay! Hop on." She pulled out a keyring full of charms and sat on the bike, her body fitting it like a glove. She kicked up the stand and slid the key into the ignition.

VRRAM VRRAM

Kamori revved the engine, the roar amplified by the garage’s echo.  
"Come on!" Kiriko called again. Illari looked particularly unsure, arms crossed, her expression a mix of doubt and uncertainty.  
"...I’ve never ridden a motorcycle."  
"It’s okay! Just sit and… hold on! I’ll take it easy," Kiriko said, stifling a laugh.  
"Okay…" The girl turned and sat on the back seat, nervously searching for something to hold onto.  
"Ready?"  
"Wait!" She decided to grip the seat, her nails digging under the upholstery like a frightened cat. Her shoulders tensed almost up to her ears. "...You can go."

Kiriko turned the handlebars and accelerated. Illari felt gravity push her back as the bike circled the parking area, exiting the garage through the automatically opening gate. The engine roared against the concrete walls, leaving Quispé even more terrified than she already was. The rider climbed the exit ramp and passed through the gate, which flooded the garage with afternoon light like a flash just before they fully exited—and that’s when Kiriko sped up, merging into the light traffic flowing along the highway.

VRAAAAM!!

The bike accelerated hard, throwing Illari off balance. She nearly fell off as her hands slipped from the seat and wrapped tightly around Kiriko’s waist in a desperate hug.

"YOU SAID YOU’D TAKE IT EASY!!" Illari shouted as Kiriko weaved past slower cars.  
"Sorry! Hahaha," she replied sarcastically, still a bit surprised by Illari clinging to her. Her face flushed when she felt the girl loosen her grip and rest the side of her face against her back. Blushing like a tomato, she tried to hide the silly smile spreading across her lips…

Take Me To Beijing (一起回北京) 
Chinese American Bear

Take me ’cross the ocean  
Take me to the sea  
Take me to the kingdom
Take me to Beijing

Take me to your hometown 
Let's drink some Oolong tea  
Show me where you first loved 
Show me your family

...

The pace eventually stabilized. Illari still held onto Kiriko as she looked at the houses, shops, people, and omnics walking along the sidewalks—simple, calm daily lives, all painted orange by the fading afternoon light. Comfortable shadows stretched over shop awnings and closing snack bars, contrasting with a few bars just opening, glowing with flashy lights. Kiriko dodged the increasing traffic, taillights blurring into red streaks as she danced through the lanes, feeling the wind toss her hair and trying to cool the heat building in her chest—a tight, warm knot in her stomach, comforting yet unsettling. So unsettling it scared her. Scared her to feel what she was feeling, scared to get her hopes up—but nothing could wipe the goofy smile off her face, a stronger force reflecting all the small victories she’d been gaining with Illari.

She took an alternate route, leaving the shopping and bar district behind. Illari turned her head forward again, a golden strand of her hair brushing against Kiriko’s neck, sending shivers through her and tightening her chest with heat.

"So where are we going?" Illari asked.  
"...It’s a surprise. You’ll like it," Kiriko replied, still composing herself.

The road grew quieter, city noise fading into the background as vegetation appeared. Tall trees filled their view as they approached the greener area, the bike slowing more and more. After another twenty minutes on a road Illari didn’t recognize, the bike stopped. Kiriko lowered the stand with her foot, and Illari fully let go of her.

"Are we there?" Illari asked.  
"Not yet, but we’ll walk from here," Kiriko said, fixing her hair and removing the key from the ignition.  
"So… where are you taking me?"  
"Relax, dude! I’m not kidnapping you or anything," Kiriko joked as she walked toward the entrance of a forest of tall trees. The area around the asphalt was already dominated by greenery. A small entrance with a few signs pointed into the partially dark forest, a trail leading into the unknown. Illari watched Kiriko move forward before scanning her surroundings and following her.

"You could’ve warned me it was a trail," she said when she caught up.  
"It’s not far! I always came here when I first joined Overwatch. It might not seem like it, but I also have my issues with new environments… even when Genji and Hanzo were around, I still felt out of place. So after training, I’d always come here to meditate—my little spot, you know?"  
"...I get it… I thought you were more urban," Illari said, distracted by a blue morpho butterfly flitting from branch to branch.  
"Hey, everyone needs a break from the chaos cities are."  
"Where I come from, everything was more peaceful… much more than here, before—" Illari swallowed hard. Kiriko looked at her, curious yet respectful.  
"Look!" Kamori pointed at a small blue butterfly fluttering near some flowers. The two stopped to watch the tiny creature hop from flower to flower. "I hope there aren’t any hurricanes happening out there."  
"What?" Illari turned, confused.  
"Never heard of the butterfly effect? It was a joke—silly one," Kiriko laughed.  
"Oh… do you believe in that?" Illari asked curiously. "Like… for example, you bringing me here today causing something ten times bigger later on?"  
"I do! And I believe it can be something good too. You know, not everything has to end in death, or a city destroyed, or… something like that."

The butterfly left its last flower, its serene wingbeats followed by the girls’ curious gazes. It flew low over the grass, gradually rising until it reached their height—and suddenly landed on Illari’s golden strand of hair, right at the tip of the central lock. Illari froze, surprised as she watched the butterfly’s curiosity being satisfied.

"Oh…" she whispered, staying perfectly still.  
"Don’t move! I’m taking a picture!" Kiriko fished her phone out of her pocket and aimed the camera at the girl’s face, framing the butterfly as it gently moved its legs over the sun-colored strands.

CLICK!

Kiriko looks at the phone screen. The photo of Illari looking up at the butterfly while smiling—a gentle, innocent smile—makes her remember the warm feeling she constantly has around her.

The little one flies away, following its short life, a brief appearance in the life of someone it doesn’t know, part of its greatness contained in its beauty—something it will never know. It will never know how beautiful it can be. The two watch the butterfly fly to another flowerbed. Kiriko catches Illari off guard with another surprise photo, this time of her looking straight at the camera, eyes squished by flushed cheeks, a sweetness to her mouth so sugary it makes her lips seem like honey, everything composing an even more striking smile. The moment is captured—the rare photo of Illari Quispé Ruiz smiling.

"Hey! Haha, delete that…" Illari says, embarrassed.  
"Aww! But you look so pretty here," Kiriko says, her heart doing an acrobatic flip inside her chest. "Look!" She shows her the photo.  
"Aah! Come on! You still haven’t shown me what you wanted to show me!" Illari changes the subject, still shy.

...

Kiriko walks ahead to guide the way, taking branches of the trail that lead through denser parts of the forest, to the sound of birdsong and rustling leaves. The two pass under a split branch and through another bush where a caterpillar was feeding on one of the greenest leaves. All of that just to slip between two large leaves blocking their path.

"Here!" Kiriko holds the leaves aside for Illari to pass. Illari gives her a look before stepping through the opening.

...

"Wow," Illari says as she takes in the ocean view—a secluded spot near the overlook a few minutes away, framed by tall trees and rocky formations where the waves crash. Completing the scene, the sun is about to dive into the horizon. "This is… beautiful."  
"Told you you’d like it! Now, sit there," Kiriko says as she hops over the backrest of an old park bench placed right at the center of the spot. She sits with her legs on the bench, chin resting on her knees.

Still dazzled, Illari walks over and sits, feeling the wind play with the golden strands of her hair.  
"I get why you used to come here… it’s incredible. Why did you stop?" Curiosity takes over again.  
"Ah, over time I managed to build my own little corner at Overwatch… it took a while… but I found myself again. This place worked as an escape, but now it’s just a sanctuary of memories from when I was still afraid of what was coming next…" She watches the shimmering yellow lights reflecting on the restless sea, blinking at them in patterns never seen before.  
"...I had my escape too at the beginning… I mean… I still do… it’s not very creative… it’s on the base rooftop, above the terrace. I liked staying there watching the city before, and I still do sometimes… just me, the wind, and the melancholy feeling of the night."  
"You could show it to me someday. Since I showed you my little spot, it’s only fair I get to see yours!" Kiriko leans in and nudges Illari’s shoulder.  
"Yeah, haha… I guess so," Illari says, watching the last birds cut across the sun as they head for their nests before dark.

The conversation fades as they simply feel the wind and listen to the distant crash of waves, settling into a shared silence.

...

"Hey, it was nice getting to know you better," Kiriko breaks the silence as the warmth fills her chest again. "I remember you barely looked people in the face before."  
"Yeah, I don’t think I’ve changed that much… but now I don’t feel completely alone… thanks for being so persistent," Illari smiles at Kiriko.  
"…" Kiriko smiles back. "Oh! Look," she points to the horizon. Right in front of them, the sun begins its descent. Purple stains of night trade places with the orange light bathing the area, passing through shades of pink and deep blue, blending and dispersing little by little as the sun sinks into the infinite ocean. Calmly, night arrives, dotting stars across the color transitions.

Illari takes in the whole scene with shining eyes and a busy mind, thinking about Kiriko’s words. Even if she can’t see it herself, she’s improved a lot over this time—things scattered from her internal storm. Maybe she’s ready to rely on someone. And maybe that someone could be Kiriko. After all, Illari and Kiriko are so alike and yet completely different. That thought leads her to weigh everything as, in slow motion, she turns her gaze across the view and looks at the sea-green hair gently swaying in the breeze. It deeply unsettles her that Kiriko knows nothing about her past, while at the same time it makes her want to leave it all behind—as if that were possible, as if it were easy. As if she could do that. After all, it’s her story, her past, the reason she is where she is. And those who want to be close to her need to know _what she did_. In her view, that’s only fair.

Her eyes catch the last trembling line of sunlight as she turns back to Kiriko.

"Kiriko… I need to tell you something… I think… at this point, you deserve to know…" Illari’s tone turns serious as her teeth grind with apprehension.

On the other side, Kiriko freezes when she hears that sentence. Her chest burns and her thoughts race, cold sweat breaking out—the worst sensation, sending chills down her spine.  
"Of course… you can… you can tell me," she says calmly as their gazes meet.

"I…" Illari feels her throat tighten, tears threatening to spill, her teeth grinding incessantly as she holds back her self-directed anger for wanting to cry at a moment like this—mixed with nervousness and fear of Kiriko being afraid of her. At the same time, the possibility flashes that Kiriko might turn into a machine of pity like everyone else, all those looks of sympathy that once set Kiriko apart could be lost forever in this moment. How would Illari know what would happen? She should have killed that butterfly when she had the chance! That’s what she thinks as the hurricane in her mind collides with all her ideas and postures—a ticking time bomb ready to explode. _What if I say it?_ What a great idea—lose the only person who puts up with her rigid ways, who somehow sees her as gentle. _How can I be gentle after destroying everything I knew and loved?_ Illari sees herself in slow motion between one word and the next. Too bad the world doesn’t move at her pace, nor give her time to think—or maybe she should be better at that too. Remember to always be better than who you were yesterday. Maybe that’s just another weakness of the poor girl, full of self-pity, still not ready to deal with the uncertainty relationships bring.

"Illari?" Kiriko breaks the slow motion, forcing a decision, while inside Kamori is panicking, trying not to die of anxiety, her heart nearly tearing through her chest to expose her most unsettling feelings.

"I… I’m… I’m hungry… yeah… hungry! You promised muffins." Maybe the butterfly has landed now—or died. The storm passes, leaving behind shame for being afraid to say who she is.

"Oh…" Kiriko feels her body settle, her heart finding its place again, the butterflies in her stomach landing in gastric acid, the left side of her prefrontal cortex smacking the word _idiot_ into the other half hard enough to make her feel crazy for thinking Illari was about to confess right there when they’ve known each other for such a short time. Ridiculous, right? "We can go get muffins, hahaha. There’s probably a convenience store still open."  
"Yeah… maybe even the base café has something," Illari stands, trying to ignore her mind screaming at her.  
"Yeah, yeah, sure! We should go too, before it gets darker…"  
"Yeah… that would be… dangerous…"

Kiriko and Illari follow the dark trail, lighting the way with their phone flashlights. They reach the start, get on the motorcycle, and head back to the Overwatch base, still processing everything that happened, each with her own perception. They stop by the base café and grab a few muffins left over from breakfast—kind of dry, but still good.

Illari goes back alone to her room. Exhausted, her body collapses onto the desk chair as her gaze lands on the sealed envelope she’d left to open later. Curiosity returns as she grabs the letter and opens it easily…

"Hello, Miss Quispé. I looked for you around the base but unfortunately couldn’t find you. Niran told me about you and your combat abilities. However, he also mentioned your distinct technology related to wound treatment. The description he gave truly caught my attention, so I would like to conduct a more in-depth analysis of your equipment. It may be quite useful to our research. If you agree, please come to the research hall in the morning. I assure you I’ll be waiting."

"Sincerely, Satya"

Illari finishes reading. She checks the blank back of the page before folding it and placing it back into the envelope. She still feels pressured to meet Satya the next morning, even knowing she won’t be able to contribute much with her technical knowledge. She looks at the deactivated obelisk resting atop a partially open drawer. For a brief moment, she remembers the luminous arcs spinning above her head as she felt her skin marked by the power of the sun—the tender, welcoming sensation of warmth tingling through her fingers and filling her lungs with air, lightness, and peace—shattered seconds later when she opened her eyes.

She turns toward the bathroom. A few seconds later, the sound of running water is muffled by the closed door.

Kiriko tosses and turns under the covers during the night, the red checkered blanket thrown up and down as she searches for a comfortable position. Hugging the pillow with her arms and legs half-covered, she sinks into a deep sleep on the soft mattress—so deep it carries her through the Overwatch gardens in a dream. She’s lying in the shade of a tree when she hears Illari’s voice.

"Already tired?" Illari appears in training clothes. Kiriko shifts in the shade to make room.  
"Pfft, no, it’s just way too hot!" she fans herself.  
"There could be a pool around here," Illari comments.  
"I think there is, right? The covered one on the terrace," dream-Kiriko says confidently.

The dream jumps to them heading to the pool. Throughout the dream, Overwatch seems larger than it really is, mixing elements from Kiriko’s room and other bases she’s been to, and they’re completely alone. Everything feels strange, yet normal within the logic of the dream. The cold water cools the heat as they splash each other playfully. Dream-Illari is much more cheerful and spontaneous than in reality, piercing Kiriko with looks that melt her even in sleep.

"I could do this all day!" Illari swims to the edge beside Kiriko.  
"It might get too cold to do anything after."  
"I know, but I mean… being with you, you know… it’s fun." Kiriko’s eyes sparkle.  
"I’d love to spend all day with you too!" she stammers, on the verge of system failure.  
"Then stay…" Illari moves closer. Kiriko tries not to look at her mouth, but it’s impossible not to wonder what it would feel like if she just—

Kiriko moves even closer.

They exchange long, tender looks before slowly leaning in—face to face, mouth to mouth. Just as their lips are about to touch, Kiriko wakes up.

She blinks three times to steady her vision and realizes she’s in her room, seeing the posters, Kitsune, and her desk.  
"Aaah!" she groans in frustration, burying her face in the pillow.

With the image of Illari still sweet in her mind—gentle looks, wearing a bikini—her stomach flips and her heart tingles. Something inside her urges her to finish that dream, to get a glimpse of resolution for her desire. No matter how hard she tries, returning to the dream feels impossible for her restless mind as she replays the day and berates herself for thinking she could get something from Illari. With the dream scene painted vividly in her thoughts, she slips her hand beneath the covers, pushing beyond the slim chance the dream offered, trying to quiet the burning inside her as she bites the pillow in pleasure. Maybe she manages to feel good for a moment, imagining the most impossible scenario, thinking of Illari in every possible way—but she can’t help feeling pathetic, trapped in hope, trying to satisfy that hunger she feels. For now, she simply returns to sleep.

The moon shines through Kamori’s and Quispé’s windows. It shines alongside Angela as she finishes her paperwork for the day. It shines over Hanzo’s hair on the terrace as he carves a wooden horse. It shines for Niran, drinking beer with his new friend Augustin. It shines for Hana, Lucio, and Genji as they play video games together. It shines over everyone resting after long missions. And more than ever, everyone is certain of the slow transition from today into the uncertain tomorrow.

Huacas del sol y de la luna- Eduardo Gatti

Esta es la noche en que la magia  
Y el misterio me han llamado, son tus ojos oscuros 
De la ventana azul y abierta un sendero se elevaba 
Son tus pies morenos*

Sueño de plata fue aquel día 
Noche tierna y un amanecer que partió  
A los archivos siderales les pregunto si te volveré a encontrar

Y noches largas caminar  
Sin ver una señal 
Pregunto acaso he vuelto a amar así

La estrella súbita fugaz  
Calor de ti mujer  
Que no dijiste adios* 
Queriendo compartir la eternidad