"Oh, director sir. Nice to see you again. Who have you brought along today?" a giggly voice chirps as it approaches from behind.
"This is second lieutenant, Yuri Briar. A remarkable lad. He'll go straight to the top with his talent."
As she moves to stand by the director's chair, you see it's one of the many scantily clad waitresses of the wirsthaus.
"And his looks," she quips with a wink that the director returns with a hearty laugh.
How does she know the director? Does he come here that often?
"So, what can I get you two gentlemen tonight?"
"Peppermint schnaps to start, and two of your best steaks with the usual wine."
"Coming right up!" she answers before scampering off through the slurry of officers and cigarette smoke.
"This place is popular with the boys because it's so close to the firm, but also because we basically own it," the director explains as he lights up and takes a drag. "We bought out the rooms upstairs for private meetings and have the building checked for wire taps almost daily."
"I see," you answer flatly after pulling out the pack from your chest pocket and striking up one of your own.
"Most of the men in the firm live in the dorms and could eat the food in the canteen for free, but I don't blame them for coming here instead. The food is good, the booze is cheap, and the girls are easy on the eyes."
The lull in the conversation goes unnoticed by you, the ruckus of the pub filling the void where words and thoughts should be.
"Pretty young thing isn't she, Yuri?" the director chortles.
"Sir?"
"You haven't taken your eyes off her since she left the table five minutes ago."
"Oh... Please excuse my poor manners. You were saying, sir?"
"I heard from the first lieutenant that your sister is married now, so you don't have to worry about her so much. You're finally free to experience the throes of love for yourself."
The knowing smirk tugging at his moustache leaves you wondering what exactly it is that he knows.
"I appreciate the concern, sir, but the first rule in our line of work is not to get emotionally involved."
Quirking a thick brow he counters, "I believe what is meant by that is not to let your emotions dictate your actions and responses when you're on the job, not that you can't have a girlfriend, Yuri."
Some part of you is oddly relieved when the server returns to interject, "Two Berliner Luft. Enjoy!"
As she sets down the pre-dinner liquor, you automatically redirect the conversation back to work. But you don't remember much after that. If the schnaps didn't get you, the wine certainly did.
That was two weeks ago. She was the last person you expected to cross paths with outside of the pub, least of all at your own darling sister's house. While Yor introduces her, you make a mental run-through of the file you requested on the new neighbour when she moved in two months prior.
I guess the photo was wrong or terrible quality. I knew Yor had a new neighbour from keeping tabs on this apartment complex, but I wasn't expecting it to be her... I checked the files to make sure Yor wasn't being put in danger. The tenant seemed like a normal bar maid. I thought she worked nights at the pub though. Why does she have to be here now? Grrrrrrr
Her voice is more familiar than it should be for only having been served once, but it's her words that snap you from your thoughts quicker than her cadence.
"Oh! I had a feeling! I knew you had to be Yor's little brother when I served you and the director at the wirtshaus a few weeks ago! The name didn't match up, but of course, Yor is married so that makes sense. You look just like your sister, Mr. Briar."
Oh god oh godohgod! Yor is going to find out about my real job!
Turning to your sister, she carries on faster than you can figure out how to silence her. "You must be so proud to have an officer in the family, Yor! He looked absolutely dashing in his uniform."
Shifting to conceal your expression by standing behind Yor, you let the side you never want your sister to learn of peer through as you glare daggers at the young woman in front of you.
"Oh, I don't think that was Yuri. Yuri works at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs as a diplomat. You're right though. I am very proud of him."
The pet Yor gives you along with the compliment melts every trace of animosity - for a brief moment at least - until this idiot woman dares to unveil your secrets again.
"Oh really? There aren't many people with beautiful red eyes and silky black hair like you, Yor, so I really thought it had to be your brother..."
The menacing look you give her this time is the one reserved for the traitorous scum you torture on the daily. As expected, it works instantly and she quickly backtracks.
"But I guess I was just so excited to meet the man who was certain to be as handsome as Yor is beautiful that I mistook someone else for you, Mr. Briar. I'm very sorry for the assumption..."
Before Yor turns to you to suggest taking a seat while she makes more tea, you shift into the smile you wear only for her. As long as you can keep her from knowing just how dirty your hands get, you'll be free to bask in her love forever. However, if she were to find out, you suspect she'd be so disappointed that she might never speak to you again.
With that thought in mind, your harsh gaze falls on the woman sitting across from you who is nervously thumbing the handle of the teacup in her palm. When her eyes flit up from the amber liquid to meet yours, she instantly looks elsewhere, biting her lip anxiously while trying to avoid your attention.
"So, how did you get to know my sister?" you query half out of concern for Yor and half to keep the awkward silence from stretching on long enough to become obvious.
"Oh, well, we're neighbours, you see..." she stumbles over her words. "And I moved to Berlint alone, so I wanted to make an effort to get to know more people. That's why I baked some desserts and introduced myself to everyone on the floor... Yor was one of the few people kind enough to invite me in for tea when I stopped by to say hello."
"I see. Why did you move to Berlint? Where did you live before? How many years were you there? What did you do for work? How many jobs have you had?"
"Uhh... I lived near Rostock, up on the Baltic Sea. I worked at the tourist resorts keeping house and things... I've been working on and off since I was ten - that's when my parents died, and I was put in an orphanage. They made us work our keep, so I can't recall how many different jobs I've had. Most of them were cleaning or cooking or the like. Domestic tasks, you know."
Matches the file description accurately. I suppose she has nothing to hide.
"You didn't answer my first question."
"Oh sorry! There were so many I forgot. What was it?"
"Why did you move here?" you reiterate evenly, yet your eyes narrow in frustration.
"The same reason everyone does, I suppose. Better opportunities." She shrugs and smiles before turning her attention to your approaching sister.
"Here's your tea, Yuri. Just how you like it," Yor smiles as she sets down your cup. "I made cookies too!"
Yor's baking!!!!!! I'm in heaven. I should just move in here. They have a spare room anyway. Oh, I would be so happy again~~~
"Mm? These taste... different than usual," you comment between stuffing another one hurriedly in your mouth. "Sho gwood!"
Yor's giggle rings in your ears like a delicate wind chime, sweeping through your heart like a gentle breeze. "It's a new recipe. Our lovely neighbour here has been helping me bake all kinds of things!"
I like your cooking just as it is though, Yor! You don't need to change for others! These cookies are really good though...
"Well, you've always had a flare for cooking, Yor. I'm sure there isn't much for you to learn!"
"Oh, Yuri! You're so sweet, but you're they only one who likes my cooking, you know."
"Their loss is my gain! I'll always adore your dishes. I wish you could still cook for me everyday!"
"I'll practice lots and I'll make something you'll love even more than my usual cooking!"
Yorrrrrrrrrrrrr~~~~~~
Nodding enthusiastically, you finish off all the cookies before you know it.
"If you'll help me that is," Yor says and turns to the woman on the sofa.
"Of course! I'd love to help, Yor. You know how much I enjoy spending time with you."
The way her eyes close with her grin is reflected in your sister's smile too. The shared affection should be pleasing. The joy in your sister's eyes should make you happy. Yet all of it leaves your skin burning under your suit like acid runs through your veins.
It would seem your distain seeped through a little because she rises to excuse herself to the washroom, and Yor immediately notes your expression.
"You wear such a scary face sometimes, Yuri. Just like when you first met Loid. Are you nervous again? Oh! Do you like her? She is very sweet!" Yor whispers over the coffee table.
"What?!?! No!!! It's entirely the opposite!!! Who would like a woman like that?!?!!!"
"Yuri!! Don't shout!! And what do you mean 'like that'? She's lovely!!"
You pout at the scolding and mumble, "Well... no one compares to you, Yor."
A soft chuckle accompanies a rosy tint blossoming on Yor's cheeks, and it puts your heart and mind at ease for the first time tonight. But it soon strikes you that as much as you brag about your sister, it seems she's been keeping quiet about you.
You immediately turn and whine, "Yor, I'm hurt! How does she know you have a brother, but you you talked about me so little that she doesn't even know my job?!! Am I nothing but an acquaintance you mention in passing?"
"Yuri, she's an orphan. I tried to talk about anything but family..." your sister whispers discretely.
"We're orphans too!" you protest and puff out your cheeks.
"Yes, but we had each other. She was sent to an orphanage. You know what they're like. So, after I found out, I never spoke of you again in case it brought her bad memories."
With a huff, you sink back into the chair and sulk, continuing to pout even when the woman returns and strikes up a lively conversation with Yor.
Eventually, the two of you are shooed from the house, the hour being well past bedtime. Just as you begin to descend the stairs, you feel a tug on your coat sleeve and turn around to find round doe eyes scanning you worriedly.
"Mr. Briar... do I...?"
"Do you what?" you snap with a glare and step back up the ledge.
"Do I... know too much...?" she mumbles and twists the fabric between her fingers nervously.
Taking another step towards her, she steps back. "I don't know. What do you know?"
She must assume your bugged because she avoids stating explicitly that you're an officer in the SSS.
"I promise I won't tell Yor!" she suddenly blurts.
The pleading look in her eyes is one you've seen a million times now.
"Tell Yor what?"
Backing her against her door with another two steps, you cage her in with your left and slip your right into your trouser pocket where you keep your switchblade.
How does she not get that I'm trying to tell her to drop it? No good would come of her forcing me to admit my identity only for her to promise to keep her mouth shut.
"Please don't kill me! I promise I'll do whatever you ask, Mr. Briar..."
The traitorous scum who often beg for their lives under your gaze are always cuffed, and by the time they're brought to you, they've usually taken a beating anyway. They never have the chance nor the stupidity to pull a stunt like this.
What on Earth is she doing...? Why would someone terrified of being offed for knowing too much be wrapping themselves around the potential killer? Why is she so warm and soft!? And why is my heart racing like when I eat Yor's cooking?!?! More importantly, HOW DID I LET HER PUT ME IN SUCH A VULNERABLE POSITION WITHOUT EVEN REALISING!?!?!?!?!?!
"Get off me," you growl next to her ear in at attempt to avoid a scene that would bring your sister out to check. She obeys instantly, hanging her head and retreating within the small gap between her and the door.
If she didn't seem to make Yor so happy, I'd consider disposing of her immediately for the risk she poses; but with the way Yor fawned over her today like the little sister she never had... I know that would devastate Yor and that just isn't an option. Ever. I live for her happiness. So... this one stays.
With a gloved hand, you snatch her chin and force her to look at you. "You keep your mouth shut and be a good girl, fräulein, and you'll be safe. But if you ever let anything like that slip again - anywhere, anytime, ever - to Yor or anyone else, you know what will happen."
She nods as fervently as you suppose she can under your tight grip and is thankfully smart enough not to say another word.
"Good girl. I'll be keeping a close watch on you, and in return for your safety, I expect you to report to me. Everything you see and hear at work and at home. In particular, the goings-on of Yor's household. Her husband is not to be trusted. Watch him dutifully. Is that clear?"
Another nod accompanied by watery eyes is your silent answer.
"I assume you're aware of the reasons your establishment is popular with our men. You'll see me there or wherever I deem fit to collect information from you. Do not approach me first. Ever. If you're wanted, you will know. Got it?"
"Yes, sir..." you hear her breathe. With an exhausted sigh, you release your hold and straighten up. But when you turn to leave without another word, she grabs your coat sleeve again. Frustrated, you rip yourself from her grasp and whip around.
"Should I treat you as a normal customer I have no acquaintance with at the pub or should I avoid serving you entirely? I believe the latter would be more suspicious to my workmates, sir..."
"What did I just say to you, fräulein? Surely, you're not so daft that you already forgot," you seethe as you glare down at her trembling form.
"I'll know if I'm wanted... Got it, sir."
She winces in anticipation when you reach to pat her cheek. "Mm. That's my girl. Now get inside before I change my mind."