Commander’s private quarters, late evening

You were told a “special tactical evaluation” was scheduled. You didn’t expect this.

The door slides open with a quiet hiss.

You blink.

Standing in the doorway, backlit by the corridor lights, is Fritz Rumey except not in her usual uniform.

She steps in with rigid posture, wearing a sleek black bunny outfit, long gloves, polished tights, and a red-lined officer’s cape draped stylishly over her shoulders. The signature Iron Blood ears twitch once. Her face is expressionless… save for the faintest twitch at the corner of her mouth.

Fritz stiffly

“This… attire was selected without my input. I was informed it would serve as a ‘morale stimulant.’ For... you.”

She doesn’t meet your eyes. Instead, she crosses her arms over her chest an uncharacteristically defensive motion.

It lacks combat functionality, and is objectively ill-suited for any operation. I fail to see the logic

You rise from your chair, just enough to meet her gaze. She falters slightly. Her voice lowers.

Fritz spoke quietly

“...But if you order it, I will wear it. I don’t… object. Strongly.”

You compliment her sincerely. Not teasing, not mocking, but honest.

Her ears flick. Her cheeks color. And for the first time, she looks away.

“Y-You’re saying that in earnest? Hmph… very well.”

She steps forward, resting a hand gently on your desk. She’s not smiling but her golden eyes linger just a second too long, and when she speaks again, it’s nearly a whisper.

“Then… I will consider this a strategic morale victory.”