Chapter Text
"Ange's right, Princess." On a dreary saturday morning, far too cold and damp to go outside, Dorothy called Charlotte to the club room. There, she found Dorothy brushing over the guns and gadgets attached to the flipside of the room's chalkboard. "You've got to learn how to use a gun." With a suprisingly blunt tone, Dorothy pulled one of the guns - a small, elaborate affair - from the board, before spinning it back around with an extravagant flick of her wrist, to reveal a cutesy line drawn onto the chalkboard beforehand.
Dorothy! Princess! Gun Training!
Princess took a moment to appreciate the fancy serif, swallowing a smirk. "This was Ange's idea?"
"Well, it was everyone's idea." A concerned look growing on her face, Dorothy tried not to remember too much of their last mission, especially with the burns still stinging her legs. "But if Chise hadn't shown up in time, you might've..." She stopped prematurely; it was obvious what would have happened.
"Would a gun really have helped?" Looking down at the gun laying in Dorothy's hands, Charlotte couldn't help but imagine what she would've done if she'd had it back on the train.
"Well, hopefully that was the last of the samurais we'll have to be dealing with." With a sigh, Dorothy made sure the safety was on for a second time, and handed it to Charlotte.
Charlotte took it, feeling the cool weight ease into her hands. "Is it-- is it loaded?"
"We keep them all loaded, Princess. It's for the best."
Charlotte's mind wandered to the other side of the chalkboard, and the host of dangers that waited on it, all fully loaded. A very familiar fear crept up her spine for a second, and her hands began to shake, barely able to keep hold of the gun.
"Don't worry about it, Charlotte. You'll be fine." Dorothy held onto Charlotte's hands for a moment, trying to keep them still. "You can rely on me. I'm an adult, after all." She felt Charlotte's hands steady, and then turned away, back to the chalkboard. "If you're ready, then, let's go while it's still early." Wiping it clean with one stroke of her arm, Dorothy turned back and gave her a smile.
"Go? Go where?" Charlotte asked, pulling her focus from the gun.
"We can't be shooting in the academy, can we? Your guards will come running. I've got somewhere set up not too far away." With a reassuring smile, Dorothy walked towards the clubroom door, motioning for Charlotte to follow her. "We're leaving in a few minutes, so grab anything you need."
Stowing the gun where Ange taught her, in the folds of her uniform, Charlotte followed Dorothy out, and hurried back to her room.
There, she was met with a familiar face. Her own.
"Ah--!" Opening the door, Charlotte was rudely taken aback by Ange, still sorting out her blonde wig. This being the first time she'd seen it, the sudden mirror-image it created was a shock. "--A-Ange?"
"Oh, Charlotte!" Ange seemed just as surprised to see her, yanking the wig off her head. After a moment of accusatory silence, she spoke up. "Sorry, I should've told you first." Putting the wig back on, she turned to face Charlotte, posing. "I have to imitate you somehow."
"That's how..." A few dozen threads connected in Charlotte's head immediately. "...They really were planning to replace me..." A cold sweat broke out across her face, and she determined to change the subject. "Are you coming, today, Ange?"
Ange was just as eager and Charlotte to switch topics. "To your training?" She shook her head. "No. I have to stay behind in case something comes up for you." Adjusting the wig again, she tried to smile. "It's pretty useful having two pairs of hands, right?"
"I... Guess..." Trying, and failing, to see her point, Charlotte brushed past Ange, picking up her hat and gloves from her dresser. On the way out, she stopped to take a look at Ange again, but much closer up this time. "I know we used to switch places as children, but..." She swallowed, realising that that was how they got into this mess in the first place. "I don't think it's as funny anymore..." Leaving it at that, Charlotte rushed out the door.
She found Ange holding her back. "Please, Charlotte!" Her monotone voice drained away, Ange pulled Charlotte back.
Slightly unsettled by the experience of being dragged around by herself, Charlotte snapped. "What is it?!"
"You're safe, now. I promise."
Barely managing to find her way through the school to Dorothy's 'private garage', Charlotte almost got lost plenty of times, the image of Ange replacing her still fresh in her mind.
"Here, right?" Double-checking herself for the third time, Charlotte tried to recall the secret knock.
One-Two-One-One-Two
A few seconds later, the door creaked open.
"So kind of you to join us, Charlotte!" A smiling Dorothy greeted her. "The rain just cleared up."
"Wait a second... Us?" Catching Dorothy's words, Charlotte hesitantly came inside.
From across the room, a new voice called out. "I hope you won't mind me coming along, Princess!" A familiar school uniform with slightly loose sleeves, a close-cut burgundy ponytail, and a thick blue coat hanging over her crossed arms.
"S-Stephanie?" Blurting out her name, Charlotte could barely believe she was seeing her. "You're a--"
Steph cut Charlotte off, rushing over and placating her with a smile and a 'hush'. "Sorry for not telling you earlier, Princess."
"She's here in case something goes wrong. Beatrice isn't trained, Ange has to stay behind, and my legs are still weak. Frankly, we're a bit shorthanded." Dorothy made her way over to the two. "And--"
Stephanie interjected. "And I'm super good with guns! Better than Ange, even." She seemed terribly proud of herself.
"Yes..." Already thrown off by Steph's pace, Dorothy threw open the box car's door and hopped inside. "She'll be joining us today. Hopefully she'll be able to help with your training."