Work Text:
Hot.
It was so unbearably hot.
Jagae adjusts her collar, sighing out a slow, resigned exhale, shifting uncomfortably under the sun, sweating.
Tsk.
The fabric clings onto her skin, like trying to merge itself into her dough and jam, her face scrunches in disgust as cold sweat drips down her jaw. She's definitely changing out of her jeogori into something more breathable, more fitting, for this agonising, cookie melting weather after they've set up shop.
“Ugh,” Jagae rolls up her sleeves with a frown, missing the sweet chill of the blizzards back home. Hell, she'll even take the cooler climate — still hot, in Jagae’s most humble opinion — of the Pure Vanilla kingdom. Witches! The Hollyberry kingdom with its dizzying and sticky fruit scented air, the faintest hint of berries in them.
The sand shifts beneath her feet, she feels the light dig into exposed skin, and– inhales sharply. Glaring at the open sea. Of the ship adorned in red making itself known.
“Fuck,” she curses in her native tongue, wrestling with her jeogori to get as much wind inside, desperately missing home. Of snow and cold and brutal blizzards, of comforting beloved harsh winters.
Nay, she wishes she was out of this damned harbour instead—the wind’s fragrance, a disgustingly sweet red bean paste similar to the scent that lingered around Manju, accompanied with crisp, freshly baked dough—pearlescent eyes drifting to the rivaling guild who docks right besides hers.
That buttershelled fox…!
Glaring at that bastard of a fox, who was calmly watching over his crew as they began to do the same as Jagae’s own crew; a group loading their wares down the ship and onto the docks, another facilitating them, and another beginning inspection and routine maintenance of the ship.
Jagae puffs her chest proudly over at her crew, diligent and hardworking as ever. She grins, aye, she's definitely spoiling them once they're out of this blasted harbor!
Softly, the wind brings Manju's voice ordering his crew around, Jagae’s face subconsciously scrunching, barely hearing his words from where she stood.
It was unclear and muffled. She frowns. That's… upsetting.
Jagae blinks, catching herself. No. It isn't, in fact, she pushes her hair back, huffing low at how hot it feels against her fingers, it's the best damned thing that's happened to her all morning.
Red eyes drift over to the glimmering ship nearby…
Marching over to her self-sufficient crew, Jagae curses the sun, ungraceful, frustrated and eager to seek refuge somewhere cool, easily barking out orders to her own crew who've already started running back and forth to set up their shop in the market.
“Chop, chop! The faster we're done, the faster we can get out of this heat!”
With a resounding cheer, fueled by the thought of getting out of this heat, Jagae and her crew (painfully) eagerly begin the day.
They've got work to do, and the sooner they're done, the better! Coin and clients don't wait around after all!
And!
Jagae doesn't need to tell Manju, nay, she can show it off instead proudly; the Iridescent Guild is the best one there is!
—
Manju takes a slow, long drag of his kiseru, savouring the sweet taste of his homemade red bean paste, made stronger, bolder by the scent of home. Leisurely, he puffs out the smoke slowly, watching it dissipate satisfyingly by the second.
His lip curls, his gaze settled solely on the suffering Jagae and Iridescent crew, his own crew meticulously beginning transportation of their wares to their homebase, eager to clock out early as well. Finally, they were all back home after all!
He raises a hand, eyes curving amusedly, chuckling softly to himself, hiding his clear satisfaction as the Iridescent guild gets bested by mere heat.
“Haha,” he wasn't laughing fondly over them, no no, not at all. It's what Jagae deserves for daring to trade on his home turf. His ears flicker in joy, studying the way Jagae’s glistens from sweat, the cookie fighting with her own robes to stop being baked alive.
Manju eases into his own weight, tapping his kiseru, ignoring his flitting crew. His head tilts slowly, as if discerning a precious product worth its gold in its beauty and fine craftsmanship.
For once, deep down somewhere, Manju finds himself thankful for having better eyesight and hearing than most cookies. Jagae sounded delightful at this distance, neither loud nor drowned by wind and noise of busy guilds.
His tail swishes, easily confirming a member’s concern over the wares to be delivered, sneaking a quick glance over the list. Flawlessly, as if rehearsed, Manju answers smoothly, subtly watching how his own crew lights up so brightly.
Manju exhales slowly. Proud.
Yes, this is how a merchant should be and not, he glances back to the Iridescent Guild fluttering around like insects.
He scoffs.
Jagae’s crew carried crates like they were nothing. Truly! They looked less like merchants and more like warriors fit for war, who would want to ever trade in such a crass company? He shakes his head with a sigh.
At least, at this distance, Jagae sounded like sugar. Soothing. “A shame,” he wistfully murmurs, watching her join her crew in running around like headless chickens while he facilitated his own.
She's pretty. Something that her guild makes very obvious, focused on fine, quality craftsmanship. Glimmering colours. If only Jagae was in the same business as he, using her charm to lure in more clients… and, if she spoke naturally like this, her cheerful bluntness softened by the breeze… Ah.
Manju frowns.
No, he'll lose out on making coin that way. No can do.
In fact, thank you Jagae for having wildly different merchant ethics.
He pushes the other half of his kimono off, both sleeves pooling at his hip, rolling his arms back and pulling stiff muscles loose. Manju groans in satisfaction as he relishes in the warm breeze, scented like home, soaking up the light of the sun kissing exposed skin. Deflating all too happily after a good stretch.
“We don't have all day!” Manju barks out to his remaining crew, tone serious and unlike his usual languid one, “Make good coin today, and we're off early!”
With an incentive like that, he grins, strutting down the docks to his base.
It's good to be back at Red Bean Harbor. Time to make some coin, and show Jagae who's the best guild in the whole of Earthbread!
—
Manju blinks.
Once.
Twice, for good measure.
Head tilted, ears standing up curiously.
His guild had finished work astonishingly early today, his crew cheering loudly when Manju kept his word, honestly impressed with the amount they earned in such little time. He exhales a breath, laughing, smiling all too pleased with himself. A homesick crew eager to clock out early is truly the best.
Of course, for their hard work… A rare bonus was thrown their way.
Now what exactly did that mean for Manju Cookie, who actually closed his guild for the evening, missing out the opportunity to earn some walk-in profit? A little stroll in the plaza, making up for the time he's lost, chatting with old friends and his clientele on the way. Reconnect with home.
Don't tell anyone, but Manju’s awfully homesick too.
…Of course, maybe make a little coin while he's here.
And witches!
Is that what Jagae wears when she can't beat the heat?
Manju stands there. Stunned. Drinking in the sight of Jagae in front of him some distance away—she hasn't noticed him yet, preoccupied with writing a letter as she seemingly waits for someone or something—his throat dry.
His ears and tail perk up, feeling hot under … under nothing. He took off his sarashi after a quick shower, eager to get rid of sweat and grime before his stroll, simply wearing his kimono.
Well. ‘Wearing.’ The robe is still pooled around his hips, not even worn askew.
His jaw clenches. Throat bobbing. He fans himself with a hand.
So that's what's beneath her jeogori…
Jagae is strong, he and everyone else who knows Jagae knows that. It's mere fact, often helping out her own crew carry their wares around when she isn't entertaining clients or they're pressed for time due to sudden storms and problems.
To personally see how her muscles build her frame was... He exhales a breath he didn't know he held.
Witches! If the Iridescent Guild operated the tiniest bit like his guild, using Jagae’s charm to persuade her clientele…
He would have serious competition.
Manju finds himself thanking Jagae for her work ethic the second time that day. His ears flicker, tail brushing against the ground sharply. His cheeks dusted red.
He fidgets with his kiseru in his pocket, admiring the curious sight before him: Jagae in a fit sleeveless turtleneck, coloured the same rich black as her normal attire, wearing her usual miniskirt and layered chima, and boots. Her long hair tied up into what he thinks is an intricate bun held securely with her binyeo (hair pin), messy after a day’s hard work, her bangs still framing her face beautifully.
Manju forces a step forward, and another, and another until he's smoothly shortened the distance between them.
He definitely wants to see this up close.
“Oh?” He hums lazily, swallowing his awe, making himself known. A claw delicately pulls back the seat in front of Jagae, sliding in the seat a little too hastily, his sheathed weapon clinking against the chair loudly. Harsh against his own ears.
Jagae lifts her head, confused pearlescent eyes meeting red ones, her scribbling halted with a sharp clang of pen against the glass table, followed by an immediate furrow of brows and a click of her tongue. She leans back into her seat, arms crossed, frowning.
“Have you been enlightened by my ways, Madam Jagae?” Manju snickers, managing to beat Jagae from speaking first, playfully leaning over the table to see if Jagae is purposefully showing off her muscles.
Not that it matters, it doesn’t cost anything to admire it. He grins as she rolls her eyes.
“What do you want?” Jagae scoffs, irritated that her peace got disrupted. Her finger taps on her arm impatiently, closing her eyes, incredulous. “Why the hell would I ever want to be like you?”
…
The silence persists.
Jagae’s face is red in half anger and half fluster.
“Stop staring.” She grumbles, reluctantly glancing back at Manju, deadpan. “Have some damned shame, Mandu.”
Oh. Oops.
Manju clears his throat, ears flattening as his own face flushes– ah, haha, caught red-headed, not that he was being sly to begin with. He… isn't usually like this. “Ah…” He begins weakly, watching Jagae awkwardly fix her stationary, setting them into the free chair beside her.
Witches. He should’ve taken the opportunity instead to read what she was writing about before she put away the scroll.
“...How could I possibly pass up the view?”
Jagae gives him a look. One that tells him to fuck off.
Manju smiles charmingly, relaxed by the sight, sinking easily into the seat. Comforted by the familiar sight, propping his elbow up, he rested his cheek against his palm. He nods, smug, “Truly, you must be taking after the superior guild! I'm so glad that you've finally accepted the facts, dearest Madam—”
“Exit’s that way, fox.” Jagae hisses, pointing towards the direction he came from.
“Gasp! I have a name, Madam, how on Earthbread do you exactly work with your clientele? It's simply good manners to remember their name, or might I interest you in another lesson?” Manju retorts like clockwork, relaxing into his position as the waitress comes over to place Jagae’s order: Ramen, gyoza, fried tofu jelly and local rice wine. His eyes brightened at the sight of his favourite dish, immediately placing an order to the cookie working. Smoothly, like he wasn't ignored, “I can't believe you still don't know your most beloved rival, Madame, I'm hurt! I'm Manju, Ma-n-ju! Not buttershell fox, and most certainly not Mandu.”
He spits out Mandu like venom.
Jagae sighs, picking her up her chopsticks. “And you're just as forgetful as a sloth,” she snaps back, “How many times do I have times do I hafta say it for ya to stick it in your head that I don't bother memorising stuff of little importance? And yer not one of my clientele, Mandu.”
Tsk.
She doesn't bother to wait for his response, immediately slurping up her ramen, glaring at Manju who easily picks up the extra set of chopsticks provided, taking a bite of her fried tofu jelly.
The audacity of this damned fox! Barging into her free time, stealing her tofu, and with all the audacity of wearing his kimono as an option, a mere accessory for his hips.
Jagae chews, frustrated, glaring at the sarashi that Manju was… not wearing.
?
Huh.
Her face heats.
Coughing as she inhaled broth a little too quickly.
She knows that the fox is decently lean, his fitted sarashi and loose kimono hiding little of his form, but to actually see it herself…
Damned buttershelled fox…!
She takes a deep breath. Watching the dumb, all too happy smirk bloom on Manju’s face, clearly savouring every bite of tofu. Amusement dancing on his face, all too knowing of Jagae’s realisation, “Like what you see, Jagae?”
She's definitely fucking taking his food next time.
“Can it,” she snaps back.
“I don't understand how anyone could be so willing to trade with ruffians like you,” he sighs softly, eyes narrowing in mischief. “Truly, you wound my heart!”
Manju chuckles when Jagae slurps louder on her ramen, stuffing her mouth full of gyoza as he relocates her plate of tofu jelly over to his side, enjoying it thoroughly.
…Delicious.
If Manju had regrets about closing early today... Well, there's none now.
—
Later, when it came to settling their own bills…
“Manju Cookie, Madam! We hope you two had a lovely date! You're both welcome back here anytime!”
Both guild leaders coughed. Their faces, a bright red.
“Ah, no no, that's not… what's happened there.”
“Wha… We aren't dating! I'd rather—”
The waitress smiles, clearly not believing the both of them. Jagae winces, “—be on a raft in the licorice sea than be with…”
Dumbfounded, she stares at her receipt as the waitress dismisses herself to aid other customers.
“Cute,” Manju murmurs softly in his native tongue, watching Jagae buffer in real-time. He taps her cheek, grinning when he's gotten her attention with a snap of his fingers. Dragging his kimono back up to properly cover himself, “Madam,” he whispers low and sly, “I offer… personal lessons.”
What.
Jagae stares at him like he's insane, like he just spewed the most vilest and outrageous thing ever to be said.
“Haha… of course, only if you're interested.”
Manju raises a careful hand, easily pulling along the bewildered Iridescent guild leader out of the restaurant.
“I can make you look prettier than this,” Manju whispers softly.
(Should Jagae be afraid?)
(No, the worst that will happen to her is getting charged for things she never asked help for.)
(And the worst Manju will do is give her unsolicited advice. And charge for it.)
(If Jagae really wanted to, Manju would be spending his time in the hospital. Not… getting… Is she being told off right now for wearing less layers?)
(?)
(What's happening.)
(Jagae is so confused.)
(Neither guild leaders slept that night. Jagae stuck with Manju scolding her for showing too much skin. Manju stuck with Jagae who doesn't understand that he doesn't like the prospect of sharing this sight.)
(...The next day, their crew and clientele didn't believe their truth once. At all.)