A/N: From here on, would be more like 'filler eps' (maybe or maybe not whether you still want sib story or don't mind seeing Sunday alone venturing farther) for this story because while I know to readers that this story started out as Robin and Sunday finding each other, I'm sorry I can't... I NEED TO WRITE MORE SUNDAY SHENNANIGANS, CRIMINAL OR NO. I want to write some SH bonding, some Sunday finding his way, some Sunday finding a foothold to his life. All that. I have always been more of a Sunday fan than a Robin fan and although I want both sibs to have a happy ending, let my man establish his life first~
Titles of chapters to put through Sunday for insane dynamics and 'chill' slice-of-lifeness:
Conductor, Priest, Masochism Tango, Sadism Waltz, To Turn For Solace
I hope with these titles, you understand my urgent need to write SH Sunday shenannigans. BIASED FANSERVICE! Until we meet again~

Kafka was no stranger to weirdness so starting the day with their latest recruit getting into a heated argument with a plush bunny even when he was downing what looked like the tenth to twentieth energy drink with a few more packs around his bedside didn't faze her in the slightest. Only an amused rise in the eyebrow was the only reaction she showed even if it went unnoticed by Sunday who was obviously buzzed from the amount of caffeine he took while the plush bunny chatised him for such an unhealthy habit.

"Stop it. Stop it with the energy drinks already. It would not kill you to go to sleep, instead of resorting to that!" the plush bunny, who Kafka recalled calling themselves Mr. Bun Bun, unleashed a whole new one on Sunday.

"The less I sleep, the better it is for everyone," Sunday said, speaking fast even with exhaustion crawling through his veins, "I have no need to dream anymore. I cannot afford to lose myself."

"Just because you almost lost yourself once and will eventually lose yourself the more you dream doesn't mean you have to resort to energy drinks," Mr. Bun Bun argued.

"What else am I going to substitute sleep with? If I want to at least remain a functional being, I need something in my system and caffeine is the best option. And the way to get caffeine is caffeinated drinks like these," Sunday said, sipping yet another can until he finished it to rummage for another from a pack that he probably raided from the Stellaron Hunter's fridge. Might be Silver Wolf's because she would keep something like this if she needed to crunch through an all-nighter gaming session and while Kafka amused herself in thinking how Silver Wolf would rip a new one on Sunday just for taking her 'holy water that helps when I need to show who's boss in'... well, insert whatever game she's playing, but that wasn't the point.

"Why not coffee?" Kafka now chimed in, unable to stay silent any longer, "Isn't that the most regarded caffeinated drink of them all to stay awake despite exhaustion?"

"Coffee unfortunately doesn't work for me, being a bit too bitter for my- oh, Miss Kafka, I didn't notice you there? How are you here?" Sunday started to answer Kafka's question, until he realized that she was there by his door with a playful smirk to his startlement and slight embarassment that he didn't notice she was there.

He might be really buzzed...

"I was there for a while. I did try knocking on your door but you didn't answer. I heard voices so I knew you were there and since you didn't answer me no matter how much I knocked, I just simply opened the unlocked door," Kafka answered smoothly, "The reason I am here is that the rest of us are having breakfast and I wonder whether you wanted to join us."

"... Oh," Sunday said, blinking as he tried to process the statement, "Is it morning already? I see no reason why I shouldn't join you. Let me get ready and then I will see you soon."

It was a cue to leave him be for now, even when Mr. Bun Bun shot both Sunday and Kafka looks. Once Sunday shot Mr. Bun Bun a look of his own, the plush bunny simply sat on bed unmoving but undoubtedly pouting if they could make expressions other than the big sewed up white eyes and unchanging smile.

Kafka had obliged, as she bemused herself to report to Silver Wolf who it was that took her energy drinks when she had been accusing a fair few of them about such crime and none owned up to it. No one would guess it would be their pious new recruit, wouldn't it? Even when they were shown he had such a wild side.

No one would have guessed a Family leader of high standing and prestige with much to live for and more to lose would easily commit himself to a dangerous script even after his downfall through reckless acts of driving with the motorbike and starskiff. It stands to say that once more in their Stellaron Hunter group, only Bladie was allowed to drive.

As for Kafka herself, she was unfortunately a bit like Sunday with how fearless she could be on the road but she digressed.

Going back to the dining room of their humble abode, she thought back of what Sunday had been doing after three days of being a sleeping beauty. He was allowed recuperation in his room after the ordeal despite how well rested he was with being hungry and thirsty without any sustainment for the past three days as the downside. He had only came out once with them into the dining room to eat and drink what had been denied of him during rest. Only awkward silence had reigned throughout the table when Sunday had kept to himself and took his time with nourishment. Soon after, he had secluded himself into his room for the whole day.

And now they found themselves at the very next day when Kafka decided to call him out for breakfast. The silence and isolation he had put himself up to was not unexpected when faced with the shocking truth of what one could be, or had become such as Sunday's own situation. His compliance to breakfast, even when it meant meeting the people who were about to be his co-workers that one in his position would be naturally wary of, felt a little less expected but no less unwelcomed when a certain cat felt the need to make things clearer for their newest recruit all in due time.

The newest recruit who had done his job well so far and even overcome himself to the outcome that Elio most wanted. As far as recruits go, he was doing fine in their line of work. Establishing himself better within the Stellaron Hunters through personal trials despite having only acquantainceship status for the rest meant that maybe it was time for Kafka to shine.

She would be presented the perfect opportunity after all.

She smiled to herself, knowing the shock Sunday might find himself when it wasn't just an ordinary breakfast invite. Starting with how he would have to contend with a certain angry gamer the moment he arrived~

***

"I certainly put a sticky note saying 'Silver Wolf's - Do not touch' on the packs of energy drinks that I have been stocking on for the latest tournament for one of my games and you depleted half of it??? In one day??? What are you made of? And how can you do this to my holy water? Have you no shame, you holy man who would at least leave credits for the crimes you were forced to commit?!" Silver Wolf ranted to Sunday the moment he made his appearance to the Stellaron Hunters in the dining room.

If Silver Wolf was trying to guilt trip Sunday for the 'unbelievable heinous crime' that he commited, then it was already working too well even without the unnecessary dramatism because the moment that Silver Wolf admitted the energy drinks were hers with such a sticky note, Sunday paled and looked downright apologetic.

"Miss Silver Wolf, I sincerely had no idea that those energy drinks were yours. I just found them stocked up in the fridge and found no sign that they had belonged to certain people. I thought those drinks were for all of us and in my tired state, had decided to take as much as I could just so I wouldn't sleep. For that, I am really sorry. I will certainly pay you back in some way for the trouble that I have caused you."

"You... you don't have to lay it so thick, you know?" Silver Wolf said, clearly unused to such sincerity before undoubtedly trying to change the topic before she felt truly uncomfortable, "And what do you mean there was no sign that it belonged to me? That sticky note should be clearly noticeable the moment you opened the fridge unless..."

Silver Wolf's eyes roved around until her eyes naturally landed to the black cat lounging around the table with its tail swishing around and a mischievious glint in its too smart eyes.

"You..." Silver Wolf's voice lowered to a growl, pointed towards the cat.

"Me," Elio spoke, not even keeping up pretenses for what Silver Wolf was implying, "I felt like Sunday there needed it more than you do and it is unhealthy to hog such a supply for yourself, Silver Wolf. Really, it was easy to swat away the paper and no one ever the wiser."

Before Silver Wolf would barrage a healthy dose of curses to Elio, something that any member of the Stellaron Hunters had found themselves doing against Elio's know-it-all attitude, Firefly chose to spoke up and got herself into the conversation:

"But isn't it equally unhealthy for Mr. Sunday to umm... hog that supply for himself, even if you say you think he needs it?"

Elio didn't bother to answer such a question and Sunday awkwardly looked away at such a statement but Silver Wolf was not done with her ranting and Sunday could only stand there to just endure the laydown.

It was not bad, for the rest of the Stellaron Hunters to somewhat get use to their latest recruit who was living with them now. Kafka could only watch this with amusement in her features, as Blade simply ignored everyone seated at the dining table and sharpening his sword for the lack of anything to do while Firefly observed the decisively one-sided conversation with more apprehension on her face.

Eventually, Kafka took pity to both Sunday and by extension Firefly who was getting second hand uneasiness from all this and walked to Silver Wolf while resting a hand on her shoulder.

"I think you got your point across for everyone here, Silver Wolf. And Birdie here looks pitiful at the mistakes he made willing to make up for it. Don't you think that's enough for you already?"

"Ugh," Silver Wolf eventually conceded but added regardless, "But how is it possible for one man to down so much cans in the span of one night? Was he trying to get an early death through heart attack?"

"Hmph, if only it was that easy," Blade remarked, a bit more talkative in regards to death through a sense of haunting nostalgia before he was picked up by the Stellaron Hunters.

"Don't say it like you haven't drank as much as Sunday and didn't get a heart attack of your own while playing your games," Elio added his own remark, only succeeding in bringing Silver Wolf's ire that hadn't totally gone away.

"Alright," Kafka smoothed things as she once again squeezed Silver Wolf's arm to remind her not to act up once more because even if Kafka wouldn't mind the unfolding drama out of a family sitcom happening between their group of criminals...

"As much fun it would be to see you arguing all day, aren't we suppose to have breakfast before it gets cold? Or is it too much to stay peaceful even before that?"

Silver Wolf grumbled but finally sat down on the table to pick on her slowly getting cold breakfast. Sunday had also sat down himself, still looking sheepish about what had just happened although he managed to keep his own calm throughout. Firefly, for her part, just sighed in relief although she threw some looks especially towards Sunday that he politely ignored. Blade remained aloof as ever, as if nothing went wrong whatsoever. Sometimes it felt like the galaxy could implode and he would still be working on his sword.

Kafka liked observing that way, looking at the other Stellaron Hunters and knowing that Elio, lounging around  the table in a humorously domestic affair, felt the same. Her eyes, of course, lingered longer towards Sunday who politely ate his meal and ignored her insistent stare. Unlike their first time in the ship, he made no moves to point out Kafka's rudeness. Considering how jittery he still felt from the energy drinks, he might be in no mood for whatever schemes the criminals will put him up on, which was frankly rude when he was also a criminal himself now.

Meals at their table had always been a quiet affair with how individualistic and unsociable the Stellaron Hunters can be, with Silver Wolf already taking out a  game console while picking at her food and Blade simply eating his own fare minding his own business. Sometimes Firefly watches Silver Wolf's gaming or joins in Kafka's observation and would be the first person to start any casual conversation other Stellaron Hunters don't mind indulging but more often than not, she could be as caught up in her own thoughts as Blade and with her lingering stare at Sunday, talking how she usually would might be the last thing on her mind.

It made Kafka curious enough to know the white haired girl's thoughts regarding their newest recruit and their dynamic at Penacony but that was not her story to tell nor to know and she was content enough to be in the dark. There was only forward that they could go, and in a comfortable silence despite their newest recruit's wariness towards the organization as common as that is considering the nature of their operations, Kafka wondered how long this could last.

Once the Stellaron Hunters almost finished up their meal, it was  time for her to bring up something imperative to their newest recruit. She had already observed Sunday long enough throughout breakfast and had an inkling about his stance after the work he had been put through from them all. It was enough to finally give her ideas and start the latest initiation every other Stellaron Hunter had been put through, whether Sunday liked it or not.

"Hey, Birdie. You ready for some shopping?" Kafka asked, although it sounded more like a statement than a question.

"Excuse me?" Sunday finally looked up from his food, startled to be addressed and a little slower to react from getting used to being buzzed by caffeine. The other Stellaron Hunters knew what would happen next and made no move to stop it, already knowing what fate awaited Sunday and how powerless it was to stop it.

"We are going out for shopping," Kafka repeated, emphasizing how this was something stated instead of asked, "You have been with us for a while now Birdie and on the run, you only left with the things on your back and living with us, it's time for you to somewhat settle here."

"I mean, you only have one set of clothing after your escape from Penacony. And in the long run, that is going to be incredibly inconvenient for you. Sure you have been borrowing some clothes from the rest of us, but you deserve your own set," Kafka drawled as Sunday simply looked at his clothing that he had continuously wore for the past few days except for the times that he borrowed outfits from the other Stellaron Hunters out of the script's neccesity. They had yet gone shopping for the threads that Sunday rightfully deserved. After the back to back missions Sunday had been getting to prove his mettle with their ragtag group and later on to deal with his... Aeonic issue, he had no more excuses to prolong the much deserved wardrobe change.

Much deserved as it was needed, because he was not going to get away from the authorities like that. Such a signature look that he would be spotted quite easily, so changing it up would do him wonders.

If there were any protests to be made, Kafka wouldn't know because she continued without anyone else's say, "And while we are shopping, you can pay back the energy drinks that you owe Silver Wolf. Anything else you want, he will get."

"Ooo~ Sounds promising. Lemme make up the list and even if I still do feel salty, this just might make us even," Silver Wolf said, as she mentally went through what she wanted.

Sunday looked a little lost at the sudden change of pace that he was experiencing but simply looked at Kafka with a raised brow. She simply smiled.

"Come on, there's no wrong with having fun in shopping."

***

And that's how the duo found themselves in the changing rooms with Sunday showing off the umpteenth outfit. Although Silver Wolf had accompanied them the first time, she showed little interest in clothes shopping and went off on her own once they made sure that Sunday paid back her energy drinks with credits he somehow does not run out of. If Kafka did not know any better, he might as well already have some untraceable bank account that could not be connected to the now criminal Sunday, useful for those in high position or hitting criminally rock bottom.

Now, Kafka could only stare at Sunday as her eyes roved throughout the costume in store as he waited for her opinion with such a surface level neutral mask that only cracked with his jittery state, eyebags and a fake smile that could only point out to a level of uneasiness.

She could not do much for his uneasiness and it wasn't in her nature to force him to enjoy himself for a more casual hangout. They had been browsing through a shopping mall, with a few disagreements with fashion choices. Sunday preferred pristine white like he usually wore while Kafka thought alluring black would suit Sunday better. While Sunday was not stubborn to reject Kafka's choices, his apprehensive look was enough for Kafka to rather find a compromise on clothing choices rather than just letting Sunday take her option while disregarding his own.

If a Stellaron Hunter member was going to slay with their new wardrobe choice to be reborn into a criminal, then they will slay with style and the confidence that goes with it.

However, Kafka was stubborn enough to reject Sunday's pure white choices which not only doesn't fit the Stellaron Hunter's aesthetics but just seemed too dull, too rooted to what he had been before.

Kafka's mission had been to make sure Sunday looked reborned. Although she was more of a coat collector than fashionista, she appreciated style and aesthetic as much as the next woman and she knew she wanted the clothes to reflect the message of the man. Of course, she knew she was not obligated to go that far or feel so much for a person she had admittedly known for a few days.

That didn't stop her just having fun from doing it. A girl's gotta get her amusement someway, somehow.

Sunday's exasperation only made Kafka smiled wider the moment she shook her head at Sunday's display. He frowned at the face of the smile and almost pointedly said despite his politeness, "If I didn't know any better, you just want me to suffer like this before we could even pick a choice outfit for me."

"Why I never," Kafka continued smiling, "Suffer like what? We just need to pick the right outfit for you, you know? Or will any old outfit do?"

"Suffer like what, you ask. When we have gone through at least five shops and tried ten times each of the outfits there? I don't think even my sister's designers were picky when it came to the costumes she had to wear for her next show," Sunday said.

"Oh, did Silver Wolf's sense of drama and exaggeration rub off you, or is that entirely your own personality? Who knew?" Kafka continued the banter and Sunday's frown deepened, ending the conversation simply by shutting the door of the changing room to get back to his original clothes. Of course, he came out and had to continue their conversation.

Sunday also messed around the filter perception bangle on hand while looking around, and said, "Neither. Forgive me if I don't want to hang around any longer out in the open considering our wanted status no matter what preparations we make. So really, any old outfit would have done."

"You really need to lighten up a little, Birdie," Kafka said, returning the clothes to an assistant as they make another browse through in this particular store before they might have another bust and move to another store in the vast shopping mall, "If any old outfit would do, why didn't you go for my choices?"

Sunday must have noted that Kafka did not bother commenting about his paranoia of wanted criminals strolling outdoors and taking their sweet time out and away like they would not be met with fight, fear and arrest the moment someone notices who they really were. Kafka did not bother calming down this particular paranoia when such wetblanking is something just to fast get over the longer one is in this lifestyle. Even criminals should have the luxury and freedom to live like the civilians they still can act as no matter what status they truly hold.

"Miss Kafka, we are choosing outfits for me, not for you," Sunday rebutted, as he looked through the racks to any clothes that caught his fancy only for Kafka to stay his hand in her disapproval. She could already see the exasperation in his face but she just smiled as a person long used to this. Sunday might not be an easy person to dress up but neither was he difficult, with her previous experiences helping fellow Stellaron Hunter members with this initiation for the final result that satisfied both. Kafka had always been patient.

Sunday seemed to be a bit quicker to lose his patience but reacted more calmly about the holdup than either Firefly or Blade when she helped them choose their outfits out from the old, unusable ones that their past had left them.

"Were you always this difficult when choosing outfits? Did choosing outfits for Mr. Blade, Miss Firefly and Miss Silver Wolf take this long?" Sunday asked, as idle small talk when they were not going anywhere with the outfits.

"What you call difficult, I would prefer throughness," Kafka easily engaged in conversation, "And as for how long it took for the others in picking outfits, they really weren't as fussy. Although all of them did not appreciate me being through with outfit selection until we were both satisfied, especially Bladie~"

A shopping trip shouldn't be as deadly as drawing guns and swords at each other but at least Kafka always had a way to pacify the swordsman before things got too hectic. How was she supposed to know that Blade's patience would easily run thin from outfit selections? Thankfully, she never had to resort to such measures for the other Hunters, exasperated at her antics but following along regardless with their new lease of life. Sunday following the mold made it easier and yet a little boring to her taste.

"So it took them as long," Sunday sighed, looking up as if resigned to the fate he was dealt with and even used to it, "Although I doubt that not one of them hadn't agreed or gone for your choices first rather than this little fight we are having."

"How cute you are to call something this small a fight~" Kafka teased because if she was fighting in any shape or form, the other side would undoubtedly already feel a strange of unease be it fear or rarely anger against her but what she saw for Sunday, the exasperation and resignation. Those never shown on her opponent's face, because she seemed to get stronger emotions to rise on a person rather than weak resignation whenever she fought. She wondered why.

"Regardless, your doubts are right. Neither Firefly nor Bladie actually put much of a fuss with clothes. Firefly even seem eager, and we finished agreeing on the clothes with the first try. But of course, the first try wouldn't be enough when outfits should come with variety especially for a young girl like her to keep up with the trends. She just didn't have much stamina to keep up but it was an amiable end, I swear~"

"As for Bladie, he just doesn't appreciate a girl's drive to explore every option until the last. He wanted to leave quickly the moment he found suitable clothing but at the very least he listened to me about the advantages of a varying set and we had some fun for a while..." Kafka trailed off, reminiscing the more fun times she had with the Hunters. It was a nice nostalgic memory lane.

"He listened to you," Sunday repeated, emphasizing on the listen part and she knew he understood what she had done to Blade. She just nodded, because she had nothing to hide. A brief look crossed Sunday's face before it had gone back to the neutral and tired state.

She didn't even need Elio to predict that Sunday would probably get eyebags by the end of the week. For now, she decided to dig into his little irony.

"And what's so wrong in making people listen to me? You certainly have made others listen to you, in your line of work as the Family Head," Kafka said, and Sunday's lip pursed. He could have ignored her entirely, he could have rudely dropped the subject by stating it was none of her business.

"Truthfully, I have listened to people more than they have listened to me. All my life, I might have surrounded myself with a plehtora of stubborn people that lead me rather than me leading them right up until being appointed to Family Head. There is a lot of push and pull and while people have listened to me, more often than not some might not follow through. So I see myself more of a listener than someone who makes people listen."

Instead, he carried on the conversation without spilling into specifics. A snippet of life without much context that would make anyone curious and dig for details, details that Sunday would not share. He could play along with idle talk without sprucing up the details.

"Don't you want people to listen to you?" Kafka asked.

"Who doesn't want that at least once, Miss Kafka?" Sunday asked lightly, letting the answer be more general than personal. Not wanting to open up to a group of criminals made sense, even for a newly minted one who was about to work with said group of criminals.

Again, Kafka was patient. Just like finding the right clothes, she can wait for Sunday to truly show himself. For someone who can resist listening to her, finding out would be its own brand of fun that she can indulge in.

Before Kafka could even think to continue this line of conversation to gauge what she can pry out of Sunday, his eyes stuck towards clothes on a rack and his hand started to rove around them. No words came out of his mouth and his eyes widened at the display he entranced himself to.

"Hmm, this is the first time that you were struck speechless by the clothes. Why has this particular one caught your eye?" Kafka asked, examining the outfit herself. It had partly white and night blue long overcoat, with long black pants dotted with what seemed like white stars. There were also black gloves with a star like pattern. The outfit could do with extra accessories but otherwise Kafka found herself leaning that they were finally off to the right direction.

"The... stars, I guess. The outfit reminded me of a galaxy, a starry sky," Sunday said, "One that my sister and I look upon countless times..."

Kafka didn't comment. She could have, she could prod further, her observation could even go further piecing the puzzle of their newest recruit with Aeonic power in his veins.

She only smiled at him and decided to ask, "So, why not try it now?"

Sunday did not even hesitate, and they were left with what Sunday has described as a galaxy themed outfit of half dark blue and white with twinkling stars here and there. It was neither Sunday's pure white aesthetic nor Kafka's alluring black and yet it felt like the best of both worlds that spoke out to Sunday's style, his newest  style that Kafka can get behind with.

"That really looks good on you," Kafka finally said, idly ignoring Sunday's surprise when he inspected himself in the mirror again. It was great that they could find a compromise in this outfit which Sunday had insisted on paying even though with the both of them together, they could have used their powers to get so much for free. Sunday, with a deadpan expression, did not advocate for power abuse.

In their line of work, power abuse was something commonplace that he should get use to. No criminal lives long as an innocent civilian when they forfeited that right in felony. She also did not point out the irony about power abuse on Sunday's part when she was sure he dabbled in his fair share during his reign as a Family Leader. No one lives such a clean life that they had not gotten their hands dirty.

"You are really amusing," Kafka remarked, as they still wandered around the streets with the intent to find a cafe to rest their (Sunday's) sore legs and get a bite before the rendezvous with Silver Wolf and going home.

"And where did that come from, Miss Kafka?" Sunday asked, steering her away from any other stores to prevent another shopping spree from happening after he had enough with his own clothes selection.

"Being upright despite how far you have fallen. Why bother having a semblance of a clean life and not abusing power when that will be your lifestyle from now on?" Kafka asked bluntly. Sunday's hackles did not rise to the bait.

"It is my choice on how to live, is it not?" Sunday only stated, short and final with his eyes around the mall. Getting a continuining conversation out of the man especially when it came to prying some fun facts about him was like pulling teeth but Kafka had dealt with the likes of Blade so it should not be that hard. But then again, Sunday does not listen to Kafka like how Blade does.

She guessed it would be a long while until she gotten the full picture, out of someone who willingly cooperates and yet maintains a highly cautious stance towards her. Wasn't that something?

To his relief surely, they found a cafe and wasted no time ordering a light snack. She raised her brows at the sugary concoction that he was bringing himself into, to the point that the server taking their orders asked for Sunday's reconsideration / confirmation. His eyes were dead serious when he stated there was nothing to reconsider and confirmed his order

"Should have taken you for a sweet tooth," Kafka remarked, once more trying to stir up another conversation to fill up the silence that hides truth in its privacy, "When you have completely rejected coffee to keep you alive and awake."

"I already said coffee doesn't work for me, just being unsuited for my palate. It was for the better I suppose, so that people never had the chance to joke about how my soul is as black as coffee," Sunday said, eyes lighting up in memory but unknown whether it's fondness or just slight reminiscence. The lit up eyes darkened a second later, indicating more bittersweetness before returning back to neutral state he especially adopted towards Kafka, a wariness and caution that Kafka found flattering considering how she is.

"Do people really want to joke something like that towards you? How would they even get the chance?" Kafka asked, thinking about Sunday's profile as a Family Head and finally realised that-

"I do attend parties every now and then to secure relationships for Penacony's sake. I have also attended parties as my sister's plus one for her idol ventures and sometimes, less... savoury characters would prefer to get under my skin and take a jibe at me," Sunday answered, filling the blanks for Kafka.

There were times that Sunday let out snippets of his life like that but it was stated more as a fact without much emotion, whether jibes truly bothered him or what he thought about parties overall.

The only time Sunday can continue a conversation what when he can detach anything personal from it. Factual and to the point.

And not altogether interesting.

"Did those people think you have a bitter soul, oh benevolent leader?" Kafka asked, and Sunday smiled but did not answer as he looked around away from Kafka.

Still pulling teeth.

Their orders came swiftly, and Kafka knew that after this, they would have rested enough, reconvene with Silver Wolf and then go home.

That's what Sunday would think. But life would rarely be as simple as that, such cold exterior and dull actions needing a little thawing and fun~

"Oh, Miss Ariadne? Finally found you."

The cafe had entered a lull, away from its more busy periods as few customers lounged around the store so when a lone man entered the place calling out with eyes set on Kafka, there was no error for mistake.

Sunday looked briefly surprised, eyes wide at Kafka but when she made no movement to the man surely making his ways towards them, she could see Sunday willing calm and stared deeply at Kafka, knowing it was her call.

Gladly. New doors will open. Did Kafka plan this? Somewhat. Did the universe? Who knows. But regardless, when life moves forward, opportunities can be inevitable one way or another.

"It really is you Miss Ariadne, and who might that be?" the man asked, looking at Sunday.

"A friend of mine," Kafka said smoothly, as she looked at Sunday expecting him to introduce himself. Obviously, he would not give out the name Sunday unless he wanted to get arrested but being put on the spot, he had to blurt out the name most suitable as an alias at that moment.

"You can call me Raven," Sunday said, offering his hand towards the man who shook it firmly.

"Lyon, pleasure to meet you. Hmm, calling you Raven. The way you say it makes it sound like an alias instead of a real name," Lyon said, raising his brow but Sunday was undeterred, could not be deterred when he was walking a fine line of freedom.

"Is Raven too unique to believe it a false name? Then what about superstar Robin?" Sunday gave a small laugh, "I believe you are reading into this too much."

"I guess my observation can be a bit out of line," Lyon conceded, looking at the free chair next to both Kafka and Sunday who were sitting opposite of each other. Kafka waved at the seat with a smile and although Sunday had a quick baffled expression before forcing it immediately back to a polite expression, he simply followed her lead.

"It's a good thing that I ran into you, Miss Ariadne," Lyon said, "There's another favour I would like you to do."

"How many favours has it been before you ask me for yet another? Should I start a tab?" Kafka teased and the man lightly smiled in exasperation, letting Kafka think that whatever favour the man wanted to ask was nothing too dire.

"One day, I will repay you surely but not today when your vast connections have been really important and life-saving more than once," Lyon jolly laughed, and such reaction told Kafka that nothing too dire hit its mark. Although desparation made for a more interesting story, she could play casual.

"You are too kind, Mr. Lyon," Kafka responded, "So why don't you get straight to it and tell me what kind of connections you favor from me? I remember you racking up quite a few on your plate that I am still finding suitable people to listen to my offers~"

Kafka could really hear the cogs turning in Sunday's minds, the moment she sprinkled in a few keywords that would grab his attention and which remain mundane to others unless they know who she really is. The contrast between Sunday and Lyon's demeanor was a sight to behold, even when the former was making sure it looked like nothing was out of the blue.

"Well, the orchestral group that received my patronage cannot wait any longer for a conductor understudy that they desparately need to train before their big show in two weeks. Of course, there is hoping that nothing happening to the conductor but they are a group to err at the side of caution and an understudy was a necessity that they have been lacking hope to find. Time is of the essence, Miss Ariadne and if you know anyone musically inclined with some experience to join this endeavor..."

"Aren't you in luck?" Kafka smiled indulgently, "Raven here might meet all of your requirements, being musically inclined. While not in orchestra, I am certain you have some talent in conducting, correct?" 

"I... wait, you mean you want me to be an understudy for an orchestral conductor and potentially replacing them? Miss Ka- Miss Ariadne???" Sunday asked, surprise literally laced in his features.

"Don't think I haven't noticed Raven," Kafka said, "It's simply what you call an opportunity. Getting a new lease at life is hard for everyone but you might as well be aware of the options you have in front of you. At least consider whether you want to take it as an option or not."

"For Miss Ariadne to suggest you as such, an interview might be in order with the group so you can have a great feel with each other. How would you feel about this, Mr. Raven?" Lyon asked, already thinking this was a done deal but asking regardless for the sake of politeness. Sunday looked back and forth between Kafka and Lyon, before his eyes had an edge of steel towards Kafka's own eyes that she could only return cooly.

"This is quite sudden, and I will certainly think about it but I want to discuss more with Miss Ariadne privately to know why she put me up to this. Honestly, it has come quite a shock," Sunday finally said.

"Oh, take all your time that you need. I will just go order something, and give you all the time you need until you are ready to discuss more," Lyon said amiably, standing up and going to the counter in line out of their earshot.

"There must be more of a reason why you want me to be an understudy conductor in this farce, Miss Kafka," Sunday said, once they were back to their lonesomes without any preamble.

Sunday picked up quick, but honestly he was way too paranoid. Well, for someone who fell from high up, maybe that was more than expected.

"Is there really any need for a reason?" Kafka asked languidly, head resting on her hands as she eyed Sunday for any reaction, "I meant it when I said that this will give you a great opportunity for the new lease of life. After all, it wouldn't be wrong for you to pick up your alter civilian identity away from the criminal life with hobbies along the way. Unless I was wrong in thinking this wouldn't suit you?"

"How would you know that being an orchestral conductor would suit me?" Sunday narrowed his eyes.

"It's just a guess, something to try out but if you are asking why I felt you suitable other than just a guess, Firefly told me about when you had ascended as... the Great Septimus, wasn't it? Your way of conducting the puppets in battle might translate well in orchestral conducting, don't you think?"

Sunday only gave a deadpan stare, a slight twitch but not commenting on Kafka's remark. Instead he said, "I will give it a go, but there is no surefire way that I will make it past the interviews, Miss Kafka."

"So you are going to give it a go? Interested, after all?" Kafka asked.

"... I would be lying if I said I wasn't. But is this coincidential, truly out of the goodness of one's heart or, something more?" Sunday asked, realizing that the facts he had right now might not be the full picture, "After all, what is the benefit in this for you?"

"Did you really think that I did this for you for benefit? How lowly do you think of us criminals," Kafka batted her eyes and Sunday looked a little sheepish at his own statement as if that quick remark was simply unfiltered thought that was now understood as rude upon realization.

"Although now that you mention it," Kakfa's eyes twinkled mischieviously and an undisguised look of dread crossed Sunday's features, "I did tell you that it was an opportunity for a new lease of life and when I said that, it also meant the perfect opportunity to understand what the criminal life means as a Stellaron Hunter member. After all, in two weeks whether you remain an understudy or become a conductor yourself, there would be this lavish concert where we can..."

"That is nuts!" Sunday declared after Kafka finished explaining a few details about the heist that would go unknown for the larger audience in the name of element of surprise, and she didn't even bother to say anything for or against it just giving an elusive smile, "Why are you doing this?"

"Why not? It has nothing to do with the script, don't you worry about it. But here's a little taste for you what individual Stellaron Hunters do on their own free time," Kafka said.

"What? More crime? Unnecessary crime out of nowhere?" Sunday's eyes narrowed. Kafka laughed.

"It's more than that, birdie. But they do say that once you have gotten your hands on dirty money, clean money just doesn't feel the same. It's no different with what I want either," Kafka said, "But it's really fine when what you are doing would only just to be a distraction while you turn a blind eye," Kafka said.

It was something of an extension to their shopping, and a way to get Sunday having a day off after the first few hectic days of initiation and script work but in the end, she left the decision purely to Sunday even if it may seem an illusion of choice. All she had to do was wait for an answer.

It seemed Sunday understood that too and in brief thought, he finally said:

"... Alright."

He may be a little boring but it was nice he was trying to let loose. A fine time to understand a Stellaron Hunter's daily life.