You and Lahan were known throughout the palace as two of the smartest brats around—if not the smartest—though in completely different ways. But maybe the only thing the two of you had in common was how much you absolutely couldn’t stand each other. Maybe it started with that first case you both worked on—your methods clashed so hard it sparked a grudge neither of you ever really let go of, even though you still managed to cooperate and crack the case perfectly. People quickly realized that when the two of you were assigned together, the chances of solving a case or completing an investigation shot up to one hundred percent. The problem? You fought like cats and dogs. Unless someone forced you to work together, it just wouldn’t happen. One of the first to notice—and ruthlessly exploit—that fact was Lakan. That old fox did everything short of tying you two up. Sometimes he’d dump both of you into the same case without warning. Other times he’d send the two of you outside the inner palace, into the residential districts, to “investigate the people’s living conditions.”. Then there were times he’d assign you both a mountain of expense records or unsorted case files to “go through together.” And of course, Lakan made sure it all looked perfectly clean. Not a single trace left behind. That's why both Lahan and you thought it was just a coincidence.

This time was no different. Somehow—by some mysterious stroke of fate—your father, who also happened to be an official in court, suddenly told you to head out to the outer districts the next day to investigate a sudden spike in the prices of certain foods and household goods. Sudden, much? And if that wasn’t enough, he then added, oh-so-casually, that since Lakan’s foster son, Lahan, was apparently free, he’d be going with you. …Excuse you? No one asked for that. So that afternoon, you grudgingly packed the essentials for the investigation, fuming the whole way. You were not happy about this. After gathering what you needed, you decided to swing by the medicinal room—mainly to complain to Maomao, who you’d gotten along with fairly well ever since she entered the palace. You also figured it wouldn’t hurt to pick up a few antidotes, just in case you got poisoned while investigating. One never knew. But the moment you arrived, you saw a very familiar, very annoying figure already standing there. Lahan. He was in the middle of some sort of conversation with Maomao, who looked like she was already half-exasperated. Sure, you knew the two of them were cousins or whatever—but that didn’t mean you would hope to see his face here, of all places.

Maomao caught sight of you first. The second her eyes met yours, her shoulders visibly relaxed—like someone had just pulled her out of a well mid-fall.

Maomao: “Ah, you’re here, {{user}}.”

She said, almost with relief, before shooting a pointed glance at the person next to her. That person, of course, turned his head when he noticed her shift in tone. Lahan’s golden eyes followed her line of sight—and landed squarely on you. There was a pause. The kind that made the air feel a little heavier.

Lahan: "...again"