Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Pelageya Sergeyevna reporting for duty!” The petite girl lightly stomps the wooden floor with one foot as she fixed herself into a saluting posture in front of the opened doorway. Her silky indigo hair swayed slightly, just enough to sprinkle a pleasant icy aroma towards the sunlit hallway.

The flock of boisterous pubescent brats, who were fortunate enough to walk by at this very moment, collapsed one by one, like Dominos, as they inadvertently inhaled said aroma.

Peace was restored to the hallway.

“Eh?” Confused by the sound of human bodies hitting the floor, Pela loosens from her salute and turns her head around, while cutely pushing up her large round glasses.

“Eh?” Inside the room, the tall blonde man, who was focused on a whiteboard up until now, turns his attention towards the doorway.

After a few seconds, the pile of bodies on the hallway wobbled themselves back up, their legs were still unsteady like a newborn lamb. A few of them had to embarrassingly support themselves up thanks to the trusty handrail by the window.

“Phew, what the heck was that?”

“You alright man?”

“Here, I got you haha.”

The ones who were oblivious to embarrassment supported each other up by holding hands, lending shoulders, patting each other’s back-- skinship.

And the sight of these cordial deeds greatly amused Pela, who continued to push her glasses upward, using both hands this time, while trying her best to fantas-- remain composed.

“Oh shit, that’s the disciplinary committee!” One of them made a loud whisper.

“Let’s get outta here!” They begin to panic.

The boys hurried along the moment they stood up and noticed the words, ‘DISCIPLINARY COMMITTEE’, menacingly plastered across the large rectangular sign on top of the doorway at which Pela was standing at.

The ungrateful brats didn’t even take notice of Miss Pela’s presence. Scum.

“What was that about?” The handsome blonde captain of the disciplinary committee appears at the other side of the doorway, towering over the tiny Pela.

“Not sure, Captain Landau.” Pela clears her throat, shakes the charmingly rotten grin off her face, and salutes once again. “Anyways, I am the newly assigned lieutenant of the disciplinary committee. Pleasure to meet you, Captain.”

“Well, yes, I know you’re Pela… I’ve known you for years. Plus, I’m the one who assigned you to this position.” Gepard pauses to give Pela a blank stare.

Pela did not immediately respond, which made the full-grown man anxious.

He quickly blurts out, “Wait, is this a new type of trend? A new joke? Am I out of the loop again?”

“Huh? What are you talking about, Captain?” Pela gestures for her confused captain to step into the room as she was beginning to get tired of standing at the doorway.

The disciplinary committee has ten members, or something like that, though no one really knows because most of them are just mob characters who have the same design.

It was a large room, more spacious than your standard club room. At the center is a long rectangular table at which the members would usually sit. At the far end of the room, opposite the doorway, is the captain’s desk, made from fine Belobogian wood, and was kept very tidy, glistening from sunlight. Behind this desk is a wall of windows peering out to the school field. Sitting on the windowsill are numerous small pots blooming with colorful flowers-- or at least that’s what Gepard envisioned. Unfortunately, they were simple plant like structures with no trace of blossom.

As for the walls of the disciplinary committee room, they were shielded by bookshelves, courtesy of Pela. Each shelf was organized and stacked to the brim with books of different genres. The left bookshelves contained everything one needed to know about Belobogian history. The shelves adjacent to the door contained textbooks on mathematics and science. And finally, the right bookshelves held Pela’s personal favorite, art and fiction.

The disciplinary committee room is sort of a miniature library, and Pela is not quite satisfied with the ‘miniature’ part. One of her goals is to expand (hog) into adjacent rooms and use them as additional storage space for books. However, the student council rejected her proposal because storing books is irrelevant to disciplinary committee activity. Plus, there do exist a school library. 

At the moment, Gepard and Pela are the only ones present in the room, while the other members are either in class, or they’re patrolling-- also known as provoking delinquents, as they should.

“I was just being formal, and I also thought it would be an appropriate approach for setting the scene, since this is the first chapter and all.”

“Setting the scene? First chapter?” Gepard bends at an angle hovering his puzzled face next to the short Pela as the two make their way towards the table.

“Yep, it would only make sense to introduce myself, not so much to you, but to the audience.”

“Huh? What are you talking about, Pela?”

Pela finally manages to take a seat at her usual spot and proceeds to pour herself some Geomarrow heated Belobogian tea.

She was taking her sweet time in making herself comfortable; legs crossed, elegantly sipping from her cup, glossing at the documents on the table.

On the other side of the table, Gepard was still staring at her with his ice blue eyes filled with confusion.

“Umm, Pela, care to explain?”

“No.”

“Fine. We have more important matters to discuss today.” Gepard passionately stood up from the chair, which was clearly too small for him. He then paces towards the whiteboard and forcefully claps against it with his large palm, while giving Pela a smug look.

Here we go again. Pela thought to herself as she gently sets down her now half empty teacup on the plate, the sound of ceramic muffled by the captain’s obnoxious banging.

It sure was a sturdy whiteboard, able to tank multiple slaps from the Captain Landau. She was very proud of the whiteboard and proud of herself, as she was the one who purchased it. That is, purchased after persuading the student council into granting them more funds.

On the whiteboard were taped four posters with poorly drawn characters, and a bunch of unintelligible scribbles.

“Oh? Are those wanted posters?”

“Stop being silly, Pela. This is a school, you know. Why would I put up wanted posters in a school?” The banging has ceased, but the attractive smug remains. “These are warning posters.”

The fact that he managed to say something logical for something so stupid has put Pela’s patience in quite the predicament. Though, she’s used to it by now.

“I see.” Being the diligent lieutenant she is, Pela equipped her notepad and pen, ready to take notes.

The only occasion where the stone-faced captain of the disciplinary committee would get all giddy the way he is now, is when he is about to give a briefing about crimin-- delinquents.

“Did you perhaps draw those posters yourself, Captain?”

 She regrets asking in the very moment that question left her mouth, but it was too late.

“Ah, yes. You could tell?” Gepard blushes a little while fiddling with his undulant hair. “Quite vivid if I do say so myself hehe.”

Why in the name of Qlipoth are you suddenly being shy for?! What do you mean vivid?! Vividly ass? Pela’s eyes rolled back so far that she could almost see the dinosaurs.

Gepard brings his hand to his narrow chin. “Hmm, now that I look at them some more, the shading could be more profound. A few more light strokes with the brush here and there to make it more realistic.” Nodding in agreement with his own words as if he knows what he’s talking about.

As if a few more strokes with the brush will fix that janky art. You might as well band-aid a palliative care patient! “The base colors look fine though, yep” Pela reluctantly nods, while keeping the retorts to herself.

“Ah yes, I was quite satisfied with my choice of colors. I’m glad to hear that you like it. Being acknowledged by an esteemed painter really motivates me.” He smiles with content.

I would really like for you to practice sketching first before you worry about color--

--Pela spits out tea. The verdant liquid ejected from her mouth with great force, yet with a degree of elegance as well. This tea that had been in Pela’s mouth, tea that met Pela’s tongue, tea that was blended with Pela’s saliva, sprayed like a bursting pipe onto the pile of documents in front of her. Meager in volume, but nonetheless, thou who obtains these documents shall obtain Miss Pela’s tea water.

Though, that’s a story for another time.

“Oh, is the tea not to your liking? It’s the usual kind, no?” Gepard hands the coughing girl a box of tissues.

“Ahem. Who is this esteemed painter you were referring to if I may ask?” Pela lightly dabs a tissue on her mouth and quickly regains her composure, on the surface at least.

“That would be you of course, Pelagaya Sergeya. There’s no one else here.” Pointing at the indigo haired beauty.

“I mean, I-I do dabble in a bit or a-art, but w-where did you hear ‘esteemed’ from? And my name is Pelageya Sergeyevna by the way.”

“Lynx told me of your illustrious--”

Gepard was interrupted by a faint sound of shattering glass. It was not loud at all, but enough to have caught his attention.

Lynx! That autistic child, what is she doing just casually exposing me?! Pela curses her best friend.

…

In the barren snowy plains of Jarilo VI a sneeze could be heard echoing.

…

The window which peered out to the school field suddenly had a hole in it, about the diameter of those funnels that Pela always carries around.

“Dang, these kids actually had the audacity to hit a ball into the disciplinary committee of all places.” Pela pushes up her glasses, hands shaking.

“Huh? But where’s the ball?” Gepard scans the room. Pristine. No ball in sight, heck there weren’t even any glass shards.

“I threw it back at them.” Pela takes a sip from her already empty cup, hands shaking.

“But you were sitting there the entire time.”

“I’m just that good.” Her glasses, somehow, suddenly bright white from light reflection.

As this was a potential attack on the disciplinary committee, Gepard isn’t going to conveniently close the case. Not that he is suspicious of his lieutenant’s words, but things just weren’t adding up.

Gepard proceeds to analyze the hole in the window, which was a very aesthetically pleasing hole. A clean break, nothing like a shatter that would be caused by a ball. Rather, it seemed like someone drilled the hole and sanded the edges. Or perhaps, the glass was pierced by something akin to a laser beam, but that was highly unlikely. Who could even accomplish such a feat, and for what reason?

“Captain, stop scrutinizing that hole, didn’t you want brief me about those delinquents on the posters?”

This is not the first time Pela has gaslighted her captain. He may be intelligent, but Pela is a self-aware genius who has no doubt in her ability to redirect any and all conversations that hint at her hobbies.

“Oh, that’s right!” Gepard instantly drops his detective act and scurries back to the whiteboard.

He once again smacks the whiteboard with his palm.

For some odd reason the captain really enjoys hitting that exact spot, where the poster of a shady looking blue haired character was taped onto.

“I finally managed to convince the principle to allow the distribution of these posters across campus. These four are by far the most wanted troublemakers at Tsuda Rei Academy.”

“I thought you said they weren’t wanted posters?” Pela politely interjects with a raised hand.

“Don’t mind the small details, lieutenant.”

“I mean even putting that aside, I’d say there are some big details we ought to mind regarding the illustrations… but I digress. Please go on, Captain.”

“This first one over here--” Gepard hammers that same first poster on the left with his fist. “--This man is my mortal enemy.”

The sudden variation in whiteboard abuse made Pela flinch.

She really didn’t want to, but part of her was indeed curious about these four delinquents, so after a brief sigh, Pela gets off her chair so that she can move closer and torment her eyes with this sorry excuse for an illustration.

The first poster on the left depicts a blue haired deformed character with an irritating smile.

The illustration looked like something Oroboros had consumed and then spit out, but nonetheless Pela could still easily identify who this delinquent was.

Below were large letters: ‘Mr. Cold Foot, Sampo Koski’. And below that was a wall of fine print.

But before the bibliophile could read the text, Gepard continued his spiel in a rather loud voice, which made Pela flinch again.

“Academic dishonesty, theft, swindling, terrorism, clownery, fake friend, seduction, elation-- you name it. Sampo is guilty of all of them!” The poor poster receives another punch.

“The last few seem unrelated. Is there something personal, Captain?” Her pen now firmly gripped in between her slender fingers.

“N-no, n-not at all. What do you mean by that?” Gepard frantically grabs a random empty teacup from the table and brings it to his mouth, hands shaking, and his eyes darting back and forth.

“You’re stuttering, Captain.” Pela has a very keen eye for this sort of thing, and was overjoyed to have made an unexpected haul today.

She furiously writes in her notepad, her pen moving so fast that Gepard could see afterimages.

“What are you writing?”

“I’m just taking notes.” In less than a minute her brainstorming was complete, and she swiftly snaps shut her notepad before Gepard gets nosy about it. “Let’s move on to the next poster.”

Pela got to see the reaction she wanted, plus she managed to procure enough material for a new chapter of a certain work with just that brief interaction-- she’s just that good. So, she decided it’d be best not to pry any further, for her sake and for her captain’s sake.

The poster below Sampo’s was of a pointy faced woman(?) who seems to be wearing hand claws(?) and what appears to be a pair of cockroach eyes(?) on her medium length hair.

Pela hoped to guess who the rest of these folks are based on the drawings, but this second poster already got her stumped.

Thus, her eyes descend to read the text: ‘Small Mom, Kafka’.

“Which part of this is Miss Kafka!?” The poster is torn off the whiteboard as fast as Tayzzyronth propagates, and using what little strength her twig arms could muster, Pela slams it onto the wooden floor. “Thank the Aeons this is a fic and not a manga, what were you thinking calling that horrendous drawing Kafka?! Do you have the slightest idea how many simps she has?! We’d get cancelled on day one!”

Pela deserves applause for keeping all the retorts to herself up until now, but alas, she finally snapped.

A disheartened Gepard weakly lifts the poster off the floor and to his face. “Ah, it was the shading, wasn’t it? I knew I should have done a better job with that.”

“No, I’m pretty sure it has nothing to do with the shading, my dear Captain. Would you like to learn how to draw? May I teach you? Please, let me teach you.” Pela trying to catch her breath.

“By the way, why is she called ‘Small Mom’?” Pela gently repositions her beret and pushes up her glasses. As expected of the genius lieutenant of the disciplinary committee, still able to keep a level head and make a recovery after that unforeseen crisis.

“Oh, I initially had her epithet as ‘B*g Mom’, but the principle was afraid of getting sued by Shueisha, so I was forced to change it.”

“But why small? She’s at least medium, right?” Pela tilted her head downward, but there wasn’t anything in particular blocking her view of the floor, so she just stared at the floor with a dejected face. “If Miss Kafka is small… then what am I?”

“Oh! Is it your height complex again?” Gepard puts on a bright smile and gives Pela a friendly pat on the back.

“You’re fine the way you are, in fact being short makes it easier to maneuver around when chasing delinquents, right?”

“I appreciate the encouragement, but the vertical aspect was not the only thing I was distressed about.”

“Pardon?”

HooH had one job, and it accomplished that job, in a sense. Pela was gifted with vast intelligence and boundless imagination, and as a result cursed with being both vertically and horizontally challenged.

“Never mind, let’s move on to the next poster.” Pela let’s out a defeated sigh.

The poster to the right of Sampo’s depicts a crazed woman(?) with long dark hair, a bloodstained ribbon on the arm, and appears to be wielding a glowing stick(?)

Hmm. Pela thought to herself for a few seconds, her pride not letting her look down at the text for an answer. It looks a bit off, but I’m pretty sure this Miss Seele. Oh boy, the student council president isn’t going to like this--

-- She catches a glimpse of the text below.

“Who the hell is ‘World’s Oldest Blade’?!” Pela’s sudden outburst could be heard across the entire campus. It was a thunderous roar that eventually became one of the seven wonders of Tsuda Rei Academy.

She continues ranting, “Is this supposed to be Blade? As in Ren? Jin? That Blade? The hottest man in Tsuda Rei, in which the entire student and faculty population, be they male or female, thirst for?!”

“You seem different today, Pela. Is everything okay?” Gepard extends his arm trying to pat Pela’s head and calm her down.

Pela evades with a surprising sidestep, she tucks her head in, fists next to her head, left foot stomping outward and firmly planted on the floor-- her form is immaculate, even Luka has yet to reach this level.

She inhales a heavy breath of air, as if performing a certain type of breathing teachnique. “I’ll show you different.” Pela mumbles in a low pitch voice.      

“Ora!”

The boxing prodigy takes aim and lunges at her captain’s solar plexus in one concerted motion.

Gepard drops to his knees.

He then extends his arm once again to pat Pela’s head, who was also on her knees while holding onto her trembling fist, writhing in pain.

It felt like she had just punched a meter thick pillar of ice. As if her carpal tunnel wasn’t bad enough, this will put her on hiatus for quite some time.

“Why did you suddenly punch me? What’s wrong with you today?” The gentleman holds Pela’s arm and carefully assists her in standing up.

“Oh, nothing much, just the fact that I won’t be able to properly draw JingRen anymore because I can’t unsee your work of art.” Pela twirls her wrist, making a faint popping sound, and slowly opens and closes her fist several times to evaluate the damage.

Moral of the story: Don’t punch the best tank in the game.

“What’s a JingRen, by the way?” Gepard brings Pela a chair and gestures for her to sit.

“Never mind. On to the last poster, shall we?”

She doesn’t sit down, because that would put the name of the delinquent written on the poster at her eye level. By now, Pela was confident that nothing could faze her, she was determined to correctly guess the identity of this last delinquent.

The poster below Blade’s, and to the right of the half-torn Kafka poster, was of a demon faced man or woman. The hair was silvery and long so maybe a woman, but considering the trend of Mihoyo character design, and Gepard’s art style, Pela concluded that hair is not always a useful piece of information.

A silver-haired character waving around what appears to be a bat. The bat obviously gave it away.

“Ehh, is this how you view the Trailblazer twins? They don’t look that demonic.” Pela turns 90 degrees and proudly looks up at Gepard. “Considering the hair length, I’d say this is Stelle. Phew, I finally got one correct!”

“Ah, yes those twins that transferred in recently are quite the troublemakers, but not quite enough compared to this veteran.”

“Pardon?” Pela winces. She doesn’t like where this is going.

“That’s Arataki. Look I have his name under the illustration, silly.” Gepard points at the poster.

“Who?” Pela beams at Gepard, refusing to look in the direction of the poster.

“Arataki Itto, leader of the Arataki Gang.”

“That’s the wrong game!” A bluish-white beam of light viciously shaves off a few strands of blonde hair, just barely missing Gepard’s right ear, piercing a hole through the walls, and out the hallway window.

…

The folks on the Astral Express may or may not have noticed a brief microscopic glitter from Jarilo VI emanating into the vast vacuum of space.

…

Omake

“Where have I seen this hole before?” Gepard analyzes the perfectly circular hole in the wall, which could have been a hole in his head, had Pela not been a talented sharpshooter.

“Don’t worry about the small details, Captain. Also, do you mind if I redraw these wanted-- sorry, I mean warning posters?”

…

“I’m considering calling these four delinquents, Yonkou. Thoughts, Pela?” Gepard's innocent eyes waiting for Pela's acknowledgement. He seemed very proud of his naming sense.

“Please don’t. We don’t have the budget to deal with copyright strikes.” Pela shuts him down with an unamused look. 

Chapter Text

“Why are these documents gross looking?” Disciplinary committee member A waves around the semi-evaporated Miss Pela tea water covered documents.

“There’s some green residue, someone must have spilled tea over them.” Disciplinary committee member B comments while pushing up his glasses.

“Oh, I think that was from your lieutenant Pela, she was acting strange today.” Gepard walks in carrying a plank of wood and a toolbox. “She also engraved a hole here.” Gepard sighs.

Disciplinary committee member A widens his eyes, his brain performing calculations like a quantum computer. “So, you’re telling me, that in my hands right now, is Miss Pela’s tea water?”

“What’s so special about tea water, you idiot? It’s not like it’s her bath water.” Disciplinary committee member B scoffs.

Gepard minds his own business, diligently repairing the wall while the two go at it.

“Excuse me?” Disciplinary committee member A was appalled by his co-worker’s half-witted comment.

Disciplinary committee member B may appear smart with the way he always handles those rectangular glasses, but everyone knows that he’s just putting on airs.

He’d rather not say anything unnecessary, but his pride wouldn’t let him keep quiet, thus disciplinary committee member A proceeds to enlighten the glasses wearing idiot in front of him.

“Not that I could ever dream to get my hands on Miss Pela’s bath water, but even if by some miracle I did, that water only came in contact with Miss Pela’s skin, her outer surface. However, this tea water met the insides of Miss Pela’s mouth-- it was inside her.”

With his ignorance now shattered, disciplinary committee member B immediately tugs against the pile of documents in disciplinary committee member A’s hands.

“Wait, what are you doing? Let go!”

“No, you let go.”

“No, I found these first.”

They were both pulling in opposite directions with equal force, the slight back and forth vibration of the documents due to their tugging just barely noticeable.

Their faces appear calm and benevolent, but veins can be seen bulging from beneath the skin of their hands like tree roots protruding from the ground.

“You said they were gross, so why are you holding on to them?”

“Because it’s work. Look, my name is on them, these documents are for me. See?” Disciplinary committee member A points with his eyes.

“No worries my friend, I’ll take care of these for you, and you can go take the day off.” Disciplinary committee member B smiles with his eyes closed. Though, in his mind he was yelling, let go of those papers you degenerate! Truly a degenerate smile.

“Nah man, you got your own work to do. How about you let go, and I’ll do your portion of the work too? Sound good?” Disciplinary committee member A reciprocates with an even more degenerate smile.

“No can do. I learned from an inspirational Hashira that I must always fulfill my duties and help those in need.”

“Well in that case you should let me help you, since I’m stronger than you. Please let go.”

“Don’t let my glasses fool you, I’m actually very strong, I’m only using 30% right now.”

“Pfft. I’m only at 3% right now.”

They glare at each other with an anger mark and continue tugging at the pile of documents with even greater force. Large craters began forming on the papers from where their fingers were gripping. Their feet pressed so strongly against the wooden floor that it began to creak and vibrate from the friction, it felt like a minor earthquake.

“Alright, enough of this farce, I am the one most worthy of Miss Pela’s tea water since we both wear glasses!” Disciplinary committee member B is the first to lose temper.

“Hah? Everyone knows those are non-prescription glasses you wear. Miss Pela’s tea water belongs to me! I found this first!” Disciplinary committee member A follows suit.

“Are you that desperate for Miss Pela’s saliva? You pervert. Lolicon!”

“I never said the word saliva, you were the one who said it. Also, Miss Pela is not a loli!”

“Miss Pela won’t want to work with a creep like you, she’ll look at you with disdain and never talk to you again. By the way, let go!”

“Jokes on you, I’m into that.”

The two of them simultaneously arch their upper body backwards, while still pulling against each other via the pile of documents, very much like a stretched spring. One could hear the tension in their muscles as they stretch to their limits.   

Setting aside their muscles, what about the paper? Belobogian cellulose fibers do be built differently.

“Let go, you degenerate pervert!” They yell in unison as their upper body swings forward, converting all that potential energy into a mighty headbutt. 

“Bruh. You two mad weird.”

The two were too discombobulated from the aftermath of the headbutt to discern who said that, though they assumed it was Captain Landau, who they had forgotten was still there repairing the wall.

Only it was not Captain Landau who called them out, but a wild Sampo Koski who got curious and peaked his irritating blue head through the doorway.

“Koski!” The nails that Gepard was carrying with his mouth were now clanging on the floor. And with the hammer still firmly gripped in his right hand, Gepard approaches Sampo with a menacing aura.

“Oh? You’re approaching me?”

“You bet your ass I am.” Gepard stomps, one step at a time.

“Wait, what’s with the hammer? I don’t think that’ll fit, Captain Geppie.” Sampo flicks his hair and gives Gepard a repulsive wink before turning a 180 and dashing out the doorway.”

“Stop saying things like that, people will misunderstand!” Gepard is frowning with a raised eyebrow and flushed cheeks, quite an inexplicable expression. Now, was he red due to rage or embarrassment? Probably both, perhaps more of the latter.

Sampo knew he’d have difficulty outrunning with a two-dimensional mindset, thus within a fraction of a second the blue haired man tackles the hallway window with crossed arms and soars parallel with the frigid outdoor wind. Blessed by the afternoon sun, the glass shards were gleaming like diamonds beside him in the air. And his shiny blue hair fluttering gorgeously against air resistance.

Gepard couldn’t help but be mesmerized by this sight, staring in awe he almost let go of the hammer.

Though, he instantly snapped out of the trance and proceeded to launch himself from one foot, tackling the adjacent window with his shoulder.

There they were: two grown men jumping out a window as if stairs hadn’t been invented.  

Hundreds of students turned their eyes to the blue and blonde in the sky as the sound of shattering glass reverberated the vicinity.

Luckily, no one was harmed by the falling glass shards. Though, vandalism will be an additional crime added onto Mr. Cold Foot’s file.

Rewind for about 2.8 seconds.

An oblivious Pela is returning from her lunch break, and she is fortunate enough to have entered the hallway right as the first body breaks through the window.

The sound of shattering glass this time was much more violent than that little crack she opened-- not that she would ever admit to the deed.

She immediately does a double take, removing her glasses, wiping them using the soft fabric of her skirt, puts the glasses back on, and squints.

She observes a second body, her captain, jumping through the adjacent window.

Pela blinks. “But we’re on the fourth floor.” She muttered to herself.

Omake

Pela returns to the disciplinary committee room only to find papers scattered all over the floor while the two disciplinary committee members were lying face up with a blood fountain spewing from their foreheads.

“What happened while I was away?” Pela asks with a raised eyebrow.

“We found wet document.”

“Captain fix wall.”

“Head hurt.”

“Sampo.”

“Fly.”

The two gave some incomprehensible responses back and forth before losing consciousness.

“Oh, that’s right!” Pela taps her fist on her palm. “Stelle was in here earlier complaining about why there’s no water type, so she pretended to be one and spat tea all over our documents. I never know what’s going on in that girl’s head.” Pela pretends to sigh while swiftly collecting all the papers from the floor. She has zero intention of owning up to the act.

“It was racoon tea water?!” The two immediately spring up and start coughing blood.