Sinner 000; that's her name. At least that's what the file told her. Chief briefly remembered the opportunity that presented itself in front of her when she dived into the depths of the alternate universe. The opportunity granted her the capability to remodel Sinner 000 to anything she'd like—from her name to her tragedies, the possibilities were endless.
If Chief wanted it, she could easily create a brand new sinner that would help her fight the neverending battle against Mania. A powerful sinner who was willing to lend her their power without any hidden motives. It was no different from creating a puppet and the notion itself made her shiver.
Needless to say, the fact that Sinner 000 was in the Bureau’s confinement said everything that needed to be said. Perhaps it was Chief’s innate desire to protect sinners that came into play but is that really all? Turning against the system was no small feat, and to do it all for a sinner who was already presumed dead?
Ah, it was all too vexing. She still had so much paperwork to do even after risking her life so recklessly but it was almost a comfort to experience the normalcy of her daily life after such a bizarre experience. The sinner’s file was still in front of her, almost begging to be read.
She picked it up, and then—“Chief!”
Speak of the devil.
“You're here.” In contrast to the sinner's cheery tone, her tone sounded more like dread rather than surprise.
“Eh, what's with that? You sound disappointed. Boohoo, I'm hurt.” Chief was used to her dramatic antics, the crocodile tears did nothing to shake her. More often than not, these types of things were often traps she laid out; she was just waiting for Chief to bite.
“I'm not disappointed. I was just surprised.” Chief’s gaze fell on the file again. The sinner’s eyes followed and her eyes lit up, her hands were quick to grab them, ignoring the way it clearly said it was confidential.
“Ooh, so you were reading about me! How cute. If you want to know more about me, you can just ask me directly.” She shot her a wink.
Chief closed her eyes.
“I suppose you're right.” Her reply made the sinner grin in response but the next question turned her head blank. “Let's start with your name.”
“My name?”
“I can't keep calling you Sinner 000, can I?”
“No, I guess not.” She tilted her head, pondering. “I never had a use for an actual name. Nobody knows me enough to bother making one.”
“Then let's make one for you now. A nickname, perhaps?”
The sinner’s eyes widened. It was one of the rare moments where Chief can see the blatant surprise on her face—it made her seem a bit more vulnerable, maybe even childish.
“Sure, if that's what you want.”
“Zero.”
“... Zero.” She tested out the name on her lips and giggled. “I like the sound of your voice calling me that. Sure, call me Zero.”
Chief sighed, a small smile decorating her face. “You say the strangest things. Other people are going to be calling you that too, you know?”
“Oh, but you're so special! It's my first name. A name I got from you. Is it so selfish of me to want you to be the only one who calls me that?”
“Don't be silly.” Zero stared at Chief when she let out a chuckle. “It'll become even more precious if more people use it. I won't be the only one who will know your name. I don't want your world to be so confined.”
There was a short silence. A few moments that made Chief slightly nervous at her silence. Zero would usually be laughing or barking back. She was greeted by a resigned sigh instead.
“Haah… you're so dense sometimes. But I knew that already… although that doesn't make this feel any better.” She pressed her index finger against Chief’s lips and leaned closer. “It's fine, I’ll win again you next time. You can have this round.”
“I wasn't aware that we were playing a game.” Chief replied, her lips moved against her finger, and gazed into Zero’s eyes. “Zero.”
When Chief called her name, Zero withdrew her hand almost immediately.
