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If there was a word to describe Shiori, Fuwawa would pick ‘smart’.
She’s brilliant, Fuwawa is all too aware of it, smarter than anyone she’s ever known. Probably smarter than anyone she ever will know. Unimaginably clever and confident in a way that constantly leaves her impressed. Knowing what people will say or do before it happens, being able to pull seemingly any sort of lore from thin air, keeping her cool in any situation. Carrying herself with a sort of confidence you only get when you’re so aware of what’s going on around you.
Shiori is impressive, smart, beautiful and Fuwawa knows she was beyond lucky when she agreed to be her partner.
But, pertinently, for as smart and cool and confident as Shiori is, Fuwawa knows just as well another side of her.
Sometimes, not often, there are moments where Advent’s hyper competent leader seemingly forgets how to be human. Small, short lived, well hidden moments, so inconsequential Fuwawa is sure she wouldn’t notice if she didn’t care so much about the woman. Little things that remind Fuwawa of a confused cat, freezing before slowly poking at the subject of confusion before trying to casually play it off. Maybe Fuwawa was too used to being in someone’s space, but it’s blatantly obvious to her that Shiori doesn’t know how to physically interact with people sometimes. The woman hides it well but there are still moments.
Little moments, like when Fuwawa grabs her hand to hold it and Shiori stops whatever it is she was doing to stare at their hands now. Grip slack, then squeezing it too tight, then flexing a bit as if to relax before pretending to not notice. Turning back and continuing what she was doing, as if she wasn’t just perplexed by hand holding her own. Neither of them say anything, no one points it out, and Fuwawa was more than happy to spend the next hour following her Shiori around as the girl drags her along, seemingly forgetting she can let go at any time.
It takes awhile before Shiori stops looking at their held hands like a new species of bug has landed on her.
Another example, Fuwawa remembers well, was when she wanted to hug the girl from behind. One weary early morning she had found Shiori in the kitchen and wanted nothing more than a hug from her partner. Announcing her presence, she had lazily wrapped her arms around Shiori from behind only for the girl to go completely rigid. She had asked if something was wrong, naturally, only for Shiori to shift to one side and mumble something reassuring. There’s a grumble, some muted and confused frustration mixed with assurances she’s fine, and then Shiori staggers again to the side. It takes her awhile to realize it exactly, having only just woken up, but it becomes hilariously obvious very quickly that Shiori seems to become a baby deer when hugged. Balance awry and movements uncertain, Fuwawa can’t help but find this side of her a little amusing.
It’s funny really, a bit of harmless joy Fuwawa has, watching Shiori squirm and stare perplexed whenever she initiates contact. She never pulls away, usually just studying whatever Fuwawa does. She hugged Shiori’s arm once and the woman didn’t move for a full five minutes.
The most prominent, and personally her favorite example of Shiori’s total amateur physical affection, is a special memory in Fuwawa’s head.
It was a late night in the hideout, the two of them had claimed the living area for a ‘date night’. A long forgotten movie played on the tv while the both of them had ended up cuddling on the couch. Fuwawa had initiated, again as always, leaning against the archiver's shoulder as they shared a blanket. Shiori had gone stiff, then slack, then awkwardly leaning back against Fuwawa, whose tail began thumping against the back of the couch.
It was like the girl was an alien sometimes, but watching her awkwardly try and return the affection was more precious than anything Fuwawa could imagine. It feels like they’re even for how much verbal teasing Shiori gives her. The movie she can’t remember fading farther into the background, the room falling further into a dim light, their surroundings a dull blur. Her eyes felt heavy and she worms further into the coolness that is Shiori Novella.
“Tired?”
Fuwawa hums an affirmative. Ears flicking to Shiori’s low and comforting voice. Something in her stirs, feelings of love and relief welling up in her chest. There’s something in the air, something she can’t smell or hear or taste, but it feels like there’s something there making her heart skip a beat as she nestles into Shiori’s side. Eventually she pulls away slightly, just a bit of distance to look at her, an arm still lazily looped around the archiver's waist.
There’s something in the air that makes Fuwawa’s head light, something painting every one of Shiori’s features in gold. She looks at the archiver and everything she sees is just so pretty and beautiful. That choppy, haphazardly cut two tone hair, the adorable and slightly puzzled expression, those charming honey gold eyes.
There's not a thought going through her head that isn’t Shiori, heart beating faster as heat reaches her cheeks.
Slowly Fuwawa realizes she’s inching closer, the space between them vanishing so naturally she barely notices until Shiori’s breath tickles her nose. She swallows something, some hesitation going down her throat with a fight. It doesn’t stop her. And slowly she reaches out, instinct and feelings taking hold, and ever so carefully presses her lips to Shiori’s own.
They kiss.
A spark of love and lightning shock her system. It’s short and chaste, lips barely pressing against each other, but full of affection. She’s not sure what she expected, but all Fuwawa can suddenly think about is how soft Shiori is. How…right it feels, how good, how sweet she tastes on her lips, how her breath feels against her mouth, how she wants to keep doing this, and again and again and again if possible.
A hand finds itself on her shoulder, and Fuwawa takes that as a signal to stop. Pulling back slowly, she's not sure what she expects but the look Shiori gives her puts her heart at ease. Her partner looked entranced, a little flushed, and maybe a tad worried, mostly shocked more than anything else though. A rare, but very welcome expression to be seen on her. One Fuwawa can’t help but savor.
A second hand lands on her other shoulder awkwardly, stiff as a brick and uncertain. Shiori leaning forward like she wants to kiss Fuwawa again, only to immediately back out. Her mouth opens and closes like she wants to say something but keeps deciding against it, pressed into a thin line that trembles with indecision. The hands on her shoulders tug her forward, then gently push back. It’s cute. Fuwawa thinks it’s so cute, her genius villainous mastermind lover apparently floundering on what to do.
She giggles watching Shiori’s face tense up as she pulls them closer together, clearly trying to keep her cool and confident demeanor but failing terribly, her face slowly turning a tomato red as every second ticks on. Eventually their foreheads butt together and it’s just Fuwawa’s giggling because Shiori is looking at her so seriously but still too frozen to do or say anything, until eventually she starts dissolving into her own mess of snorts and laughter.
“GOD.” Shiori suddenly exclaims, head falling back as the tension leaves her body. “Augh! I messed that up didn’t I? I ruined it.” Hands going to cover her face.
“No!” Fuwawa laughs, letting herself fall onto Shiori’s chest, nestling under her chin. “No, that was great! I- heh- I liked it! I liked it a lot.”
“I totally flubbed it.” Shiori bemoans bluntly, dragging her hands up and through her hair before sighing. “I got in my head again. I…yeah, forget about that!” She gives a rough laugh. “Forget that please! That didn’t happen!”
“That was a good kiss Shiwowi.” Fuwawa affirms, fighting down the last of her laughs.
They stay like that for a moment. Fuwawa was happy and content to listen to the steadying breathing of Shiori. And Shiori saw fit to relax back into the arm of the couch, with Fuwawa resting on top of her. She sees out of the corner of her eye Shiori’s hands move to her body, hovering, hesitating above her back, almost like they wanted to grab at something. Until finally Shiori seems to decide on holding her, resting hands on her back. A heavy sigh escaping as she submits to cuddling the demon dog.
“I love you.” Fuwawa whispers, overjoyed with herself and Shiori.
“I love you too girl.” Shiori hums affectionately, hand rubbing her back. Awkward, staggered, uncertain backrubs that Fuwawa is more than happy to enjoy, to her it was perfect. Shiori was perfect, in all her brilliant, clumsy glory.