They spend about half an hour walking back and forth across the hotel room, practicing bows and curtsies and more bows. Hideko advises her partner on boring-polite facial expressions for boring-polite parties, and angles at which to vaguely tilt her head to express polite interest.

"And then during the conversation, at some point... should you plant your devices on them while you're talking? I have no idea how to advise on that."

"Don't worry about it! There are always chances, in a crowded space. Just brushing by someone... it's just like pickpocketing in reverse! The hardest part will be figuring out which of them are the most most worth bugging; how many devices do we have?"

"Five. In a little pouch in the case. Do you know how to pickpocket?"

“Nn — n — only in a theoretical sense, for — training purposes. For the agency. So if I needed to — steal an important clue, uh, from a target, I’d be ready for that.”

“The agency didn’t teach me any pickpocketing. Am I behind?”

“No! No, please don’t worry. It’s just because it’s my special task! You already have lots of skills, you don’t need to know how to pick pockets.”

Hideko wonders what Tamako imagines her skills are. She doesn’t ask. Instead she tilts her head and says, “Do you think you could pickpocket me?”

“... I — wouldn’t assume that you wouldn’t notice and be able to stop me.” 

She would and does assume that Miya would not be able to stop her. Except that pickpocketing Miya would involve being close enough to her (close enough to smell her hair again — not that Sookhee cares what Miya’s hair smells like, at all — but she hadn’t realized hair could smell that good —) that Sookhee would probably keel over and die. Which would be relatively noticeable.

“I want you to try,” she orders lightly. “Won’t it be good practice for both of us?”

“...maybe. You’re right. Okay, I’ll try, and we can see if I succeed sometime before we go out tomorrow.”

“Good. Shall we go back to planning that?”

They do. Sookhee looks at the devices and practices planting them on Miya's sleeve, purse, belt. They look over the profiles of shady figures who may or may not be attending the gala, and criminal associations that those shady figures may or may not possess. They memorize blueprints of the mansion where the gala will be held. They drill each other on important names and organizations that they will be expected to have heard of.

By the end of all of this, Sookhee's eyes are drooping. It's been a long day (two days? Three? Space travel always knocks her sense of time off kilter) without much sleep.

She notices that Tamako is half asleep. That's fine; they've done enough, for tonight. She isn't worried -- at least, not because of their lack of preparation. Some anxiety is inevitable.

"I'm tired," she announces, rising to her feet. "We should take of the dresses now and get rest. Do you think we've prepared enough? Will it be okay?"

"I think we're well prepared. There's still more time tomorrow to go over everything. Really, there's nothing to be worried about, we're just going to go to the party and talk to some people and then leave. It'll be fine. I think you're doing really well, for a newbie."

"Thank you."

They undress and undress each other, carefully folding the dresses and laying the jewelry atop them. They get ready to bed in silence beside each other. The texture of the hotel washcloth is cheap and unpleasant; Hideko feels strange, using it, like she might accidentally scratch her face. She knows that that's silly. A washcloth is a washcloth.

Sookhee is having a great time with the nice sink and the nice washcloth and the cute little soaps! These soaps come in different scents and colors: lavender, rose, mint...

The bars of soap are wrapped in colored paper and stacked in a small, perfect pyramid, which makes it pretty unlikely that Miya wouldn't notice a couple going missing. Sookhee will have to wait until right before they check out of the hotel to grab a couple.

Miya leaves the bathroom, giving Sookhee free reign to smell all the soaps she pleases, and touch all the shiny, smooth, expensive surfaces that catch her eye. By the time she emerges, Miya has already changed into her nightclothes.

Miya's nightclothes appear to consist of a very pricy looking white gown, thin and silky and fluttering, rimmed with delicate white lace.

Of course. She should've been preparing herself for some sort of bullshit like this, she's a fool.

Sookhee tries very hard to not ogle her partner as she changes into her own pajamas: a ratty grey T-shirt a few sizes too big. (She can see Miya's ankles, if she looks. She can see her legs. And Miya's brushing her hair and it's so long and thick and luminous and Sookhee wants to brush Miya's hair for her, it would be like playing with the prettiest doll a girl could hope for --)

She tears her eyes away and clears her throat and mumbles loudly to herself as she makes a production of rearranging the pillows on her own bed.

(This is adorable. And the oversized shirt is -- a good look.)

She settles in her own bed, leaning back against the pillows and folding her hands symmetrically in her lap. "You're not scared for tomorrow?" she whispers, eyes wide.

Sookhee yawns and plops onto the mattress. "No. And you don't need to be scared either, miss, we're very prepared."

"They gave me a suicide pill. For if things go really wrong. Did they give one to you?"

"That's nothing to be afraid of either. They give those to everyone, even the mail-runners."

"Would you use yours? If you get caught?"

She's too tired to have a discussion about suicide in the event of catastrophic failure with this poor girl, there's no way she's awake to say all the right comforting things that should be said. "Miya, please don't worry about it. We're not going to get caught. Everyone there is probably already spying on everyone else anyway. In the morning you'll feel more confident, okay? The first mission is always the scariest."

At least that seems like a thing that is probably, generally true. Sookhee is rarely scared on any of her missions, but none of her missions have been too scary.

She doesn't even know what answer she's hoping for, really. She pushes the issue out of mind.

"Okay. Sleep well, Tamako."