Skyward Ambitions

Three weeks and a half had passed since Furina's turbulent flight with now former Air Fontania pilot, Captain Vacher. The aftermath of that infamous Ormos-to-Marcotte flight had rippled through the airline, culminating in a company-wide inquiry. Furina had been informed that, after an extensive investigation, Vacher was facing termination. Over six months, he had amassed more than 50 formal complaints—ranging from insubordination to fostering toxic attitudes in the cockpit. The reports painted a damning picture: arguments with First Officers, captains, flight attendants, and crew alike. Vacher's arrogance had finally caught up with him.

It was now a busy afternoon at Marcotte International Airport. Furina sat across from Clorinde in a bustling restaurant near the departure gates, the faint hum of announcements and the murmur of passengers creating a backdrop to their conversation. This was the final interview for the inquiry, and Furina's input would seal the fate of Captain Vacher.

Clorinde, sitting upright with her notepad and recorder, studied Furina with a sharp, professional gaze. "So, tell me, First Officer Furina," she began, clicking her pen. "During Air Fontania Flight 68Y, what exactly was your argument with Vacher about?"

Furina sighed, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her coffee cup. She shook her head slightly, as if trying to brush off the irritation bubbling beneath the surface. After a sip of her coffee, she leaned back in her chair, her voice measured but still carrying the weight of her frustration.

"Well… Vacher initiated the conversation," Furina began, her voice steady but her tone laced with residual irritation. "He made a snide remark, saying my departure from Ormos was 'sloppy.'" Her lips curled slightly into a scowl as she recalled the moment. "So I confronted him. I asked him straight up—what the hell was his deal with me? And that's when he went off, claiming that 'kids like me' have no skill in the cockpit and accusing me of bribing my way through training."

She paused, her hands clenching slightly around her cup. "I mean, seriously? Bribery? That's when I snapped. I told him I didn't bribe my way through anything. Every license, every exam, every hour in the cockpit—I earned all of it with blood, sweat, and tears. Sure, I have money, but I don't flaunt it or use it as a shortcut. Every step I took was by the book. Every. Single. Step."

Furina leaned forward now, her tone hardening as she made eye contact with Clorinde. "I took that personally, Captain. Very personally."

Clorinde nodded slowly, her expression one of understanding. She jotted down a few notes, her pen scratching audibly against the paper. "I don't blame you, Miss Furina," she said finally, her voice calm but firm. "For what it's worth, you've built yourself a solid reputation. From the pilots I've spoken to—senior captains, First Officers, everyone—they respect you. They see your hard work and dedication. They know you've followed the training process to the letter. The Teyvat Air Commission and Air Fontania didn't grant you special permissions because of your wealth. They did it because you earned it."

"Exactly," Furina said sharply, her hands gesturing for emphasis. "I never once used money to cut corners. Unless I'm paying for avgas for my Comanche or maintenance for my bird, money doesn't factor into my flying. I fly because I love it. I belong in the sky. It's not about the salary. It never was."

Clorinde scribbled down the last of her notes before clicking her pen shut and stopping the recorder. She glanced up at Furina, offering a faint smile. "That should be it, Furina. Thank you for your cooperation. Your testimony is invaluable to this investigation."

Furina exhaled deeply, as if shedding some of the weight she'd been carrying. "Anything to get pilots like Vacher out of the cockpit," she muttered. "Attitudes like his make my blood boil. It's those kinds of pilots who put lives at risk in high-stakes situations."

Clorinde nodded. "I understand. You lashing out at him may have been the only way to get through to that thick skull of his. But let's not forget—he put you, your crew, and your passengers in danger. That final approach into Marcotte could've ended very differently if you hadn't kept your composure."

Furina nodded silently, her jaw tightening at the memory.

Clorinde checked her phone, her expression shifting to one of focus. "Well, I need to finalize this investigation and deliver my report to Chevreuse. I'll let you know as soon as we've reached a verdict."

"Alright," Furina said, standing up. "Keep me posted."

"Will do," Clorinde replied, offering a reassuring nod before heading toward the training center.

Furina lingered for a moment, finishing the last of her coffee. She then made her way toward the gate, her mind still replaying the events of that flight. Boarding the Air Fontania 737 MAX9 via the jetway, she felt a small wave of relief wash over her as she stepped into the familiar cockpit. Sitting in the captain's seat was none other than Chiori, her longtime friend and colleague.

"Hey there," Chiori greeted warmly, her tone light yet knowing. She put a comforting hand on Furina's shoulder. "Don't worry, Furina. You did the right thing."

Furina slumped slightly into her seat, letting out a soft sigh. "I know. It just sucks that it had to come to this."

Chiori chuckled, her tone playful. "It was bound to happen eventually. Besides, karma's a bitch."

Furina let out a short laugh, shaking her head. "You're not wrong. Let's get to the briefing."

Chiori nodded, pulling out her tablet and swiping through the Marcotte International Airport charts. "Alright. For this flight to Windrise International, I'll be the pilot-in-command, and you'll be the pilot monitoring. Winds are pretty gusty today, so we'll need full thrust—TO/GA. In case of a rejected takeoff, we'll follow RTO procedures. If we encounter any issues, we'll taxi off, conduct thorough checks, and return to the runway. Any questions?"

"All clear," Furina replied with a small nod.

"Perfect," Chiori said, smiling as she began entering performance numbers into the FMC. Furina, meanwhile, turned her attention to the overhead panel, carefully ensuring that every switch was in the correct position. With practiced precision, she reached for the APU lever, pulling it down from OFF to ON and holding the switch in the START position for five seconds before letting it snap back to ON. The familiar hum of the auxiliary power unit coming online filled the cockpit as Chiori continued her preparations, holding the aircraft's operational flight plan (OFP) in one hand and typing into the FMC with the other.

As passengers began to board, the two pilots exchanged a brief glance, a silent understanding passing between them. This flight would be smooth, professional, and—most importantly—uneventful. Together, they would ensure it stayed that way.

It would take another hour before they finished boarding. The 737 MAX9 was fully booked, every seat occupied. The aircraft departed Marcotte without a hitch, and the climb out to a cruise altitude of 36,000 feet was flawless. The three-hour flight to Mondstadt's Windrise International Airport was officially underway.

Furina unbuckled her shoulder harness and relaxed in her seat, glancing out of the right-hand window.

"Clear skies all around," she remarked with a sigh of relief.

Chiori nodded, adjusting her aviator glasses. "Yep. Nothing beats calm weather."

The tranquility wouldn't last long, though. A sharp knock rang through the cockpit door. Chiori reached over, unlocking the flight deck door. A flight attendant stepped in, her expression tense.

"Captain, we've got a situation," the flight attendant said, her voice urgent.

Furina and Chiori both turned toward her.

"What's going on back there?" Chiori asked, her tone calm but wary.

"One of the passengers is being rowdy in the back. Trying to start a fight. The other passengers said they can smell alcohol on him. Might be drunk," the attendant explained, clearly concerned.

Chiori groaned under her breath, running a hand through her hair. "Goddamn it." She turned to Furina, looking at her with a serious expression. "Furina? Mind taking a look? Try to calm him down or something?"

Furina nodded without hesitation. "On it."

She unbuckled her lap belt and stood up, following the flight attendant as they made their way down the cabin, passing through Business Class, until they reached the very back of Economy. The sounds of raised voices became clearer the closer they got.

"Sit your ass down! We've got kids here!" shouted a passenger in the back.

"Why don't you shut the fuck up and suck it!" the drunk passenger retorted loudly, his words slurred.

Furina's expression darkened as she approached the scene, raising her hand to call for attention. "Alright, alright. Settle down, you two."

She took a step forward, locking eyes with the drunk passenger. "Sir, I'd like you to take your seat. Right now."

The drunk man swayed and staggered as he turned toward Furina. "M—make me!" he slurred, his voice laced with defiance.

Furina's brows twitched, the patience she'd kept so far now starting to wear thin. "Sir, I'm not repeating myself. Return to your seat, or we'll turn back.."

The man took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Like I will!" he spat.

Furina's jaw clenched, and she stood her ground. "If you don't return to your seat, we'll have to restrain you. Don't make us do that. Make it easier on yourself, and sit down."

Without warning, the drunk passenger swung his fist toward Furina. She swiftly dodged the punch, her reflexes sharp, before grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back. But the man was far from giving up. With a grunt, he managed to free one of his arms and elbowed Furina in the stomach, causing her to gasp, but she didn't let go.

"Sir! Calm down!" Furina yelled, her voice firm but controlled.

The man shot back, his words venomous. "Make me, you bitch!"

Without hesitation, the drunk swung again, this time landing a punch directly on Furina's face. The impact sent her reeling back, her hand instinctively shooting out to break the fall. Pain shot through her as her hand hit the floor, but she managed to steady herself. As she wiped her nose with her sleeve, she realized it was bleeding.

A wicked smile tugged at the corner of Furina's lips, her eyes narrowing with newfound determination. "Alright. You asked for it."

In a swift motion, Furina lunged at the man, her fist connecting with his face with a satisfying thud. The drunk stumbled backward and hit the ground hard, groaning in pain. Furina immediately dropped to her knee, pinning him to the floor. The struggle was over.

"Give me something to tie his hands. NOW!" Furina demanded sharply.

The flight attendant, who had been standing by in shock, quickly rushed to the galley and returned with a zip tie. Furina grabbed it from her hands without missing a beat and secured the man's hands behind his back. She then forced him to his feet, shoving him into a seat and fastening his seatbelt, pulling it tight with a harsh tug.

"You fucking asshole," Furina muttered under her breath, wiping more blood away from her nose.

As Furina made her way back to the cockpit, she could hear passengers murmuring in support. Some even clapped for her efforts. Secretly, one passenger lowered his phone, the unmistakable click of a recording stopping. The entire altercation had been filmed.

Furina opened the cockpit door, slamming it against the stopper with a sharp clang. Chiori looked over her shoulder, her eyes widening when she saw Furina standing in the doorway, her handkerchief pressed against her nose, blood staining her white pilot polo.

"Furina! Are you okay?" Chiori asked, concern etched in her voice.

Furina settled into her seat with a grimace. "I'm fine. We need to turn back and get that passenger off this fucking plane."

Chiori's brows furrowed. "Okay, but can you handle this? You're bleeding."

Furina glanced down at her handkerchief. The bleeding had slowed, but her nose still throbbed. "I'll be fine. Just a small cut inside the nostril. No big deal."

Chiori nodded, but her expression was still filled with concern. She grabbed the radio and spoke into it. "Teyvat Center, Fontania Seven Four Eight Nine, Pan, Pan, Pan. Eighty nautical miles from Marcotte International. Requesting immediate return to the airport. We have an unruly passenger onboard, currently restrained. Requesting authorities and medical on arrival."

There was a brief pause before Teyvat ARTCC responded. "Fontania Seven Four Eight Nine, Roger. Pan, Pan, Pan. Make a 180 when possible, expecting vectors back to Marcotte."

Chiori read back the instructions. "Roger. Make 180, expecting vectors to Marcotte International. Fontania Seven Four Eight Nine."

Furina nodded, reaching for the autopilot heading knob. She twisted it to turn the aircraft around, guiding it through a 180-degree turn back toward Marcotte Airport.

As time passed, the aircraft finally touched down at Marcotte International Airport. The diversion had been uneventful, and the restrained passenger in the back of the cabin continued his noisy tirade, yelling every kind of slur imaginable.

Inside the cockpit, Chiori glanced at Furina as she guided the aircraft toward the terminal.

"Marcotte Ground, hello. Fontania Seven Four Eight Nine. On Taxiway Foxtrot, taxiing to the Northern Terminal 2 Gates," Chiori announced over the radio.

Marcotte Ground responded promptly. "Fontania Seven Four Eight Nine, roger. Taxi Gate Foxtrot Three Two. Would you like anyone to meet you by the gate?"

Chiori turned toward Furina. "Furina?"

Furina shook her head slightly, her expression hardened. "I'll drop by the airport clinic instead. But we'll need the police."

Chiori nodded, her voice calm but firm. "We'll need the police to meet us by the gates, please."

"Roger, we'll inform the authorities," Marcotte Ground radioed back.

Minutes later, the aircraft was parked at Gate F32. The passengers disembarked as Furina and Chiori waited for the police to escort the unruly passenger off the plane. Furina kept her eyes on the door, ready for anything.

The police arrived moments later, walking down the aisle with the drunk passenger now handcuffed. They stopped in front of Furina, one officer addressing her.

"Are you going to file charges, Miss Furina?"

Furina glanced up at the officer, her face set in a mix of frustration and exhaustion. She shook her head, her tone sharp. "No. Just get him the fuck out of here, please."

The drunk passenger, who had slightly sobered up, turned toward Furina, an apologetic expression on his face. "Ma'am, I'm sorry."

Furina scoffed, the words dripping with disdain. "Yeah, right. You got drunk on a plane, started a fist fight with a first officer, and now you're sorry? Get the hell out of here, you asshole."

The police officer nodded and proceeded to escort the passenger off the aircraft, his apologies falling on deaf ears. Chiori turned to Furina, raising an eyebrow in mild surprise.

"Didn't know you could fight, Furina."

Furina chuckled softly, the tension finally easing from her shoulders. "Didn't know I had it in me."

Chiori sighed, shaking her head. "Well, this flight's cancelled now."

Furina looked out the cockpit window, her voice softening as she muttered, "Never imagined this would happen to me at all."

The two pilots made their way off the aircraft, with Chiori placing a reassuring hand around Furina's shoulders. "Well, you did put up one hell of a fight in defending yourself. You handled it well, Furina."

Later, Furina found herself sitting in the clinic at Marcotte Airport, the sterile scent of antiseptic heavy in the air. The doctor finished his examination, offering a comforting smile as he returned with the results.

"Good news, Miss Furina. It's just a small scratch on your nose. Nothing broken, nothing serious. You're good to go. Take this time to rest."

Furina let out a breath of relief, offering the doctor a small nod. "Thanks, Doc."

The doctor turned away, heading back toward the clinic lounge. Just as he left, Clorinde appeared at the door, concern etched across her face.

"Furina? You okay?"

Furina gave her a thumbs-up, her exhaustion now taking its toll. "Never better."

Clorinde's gaze softened as she crossed the room to stand beside Furina. "Go home, Furina. Take some time to rest. Clearly, you exhausted yourself dealing with that passenger."

Furina stood up, stretching her arms as she glanced toward the exit. "I was thinking of doing that anyway."

But just before she left, Clorinde placed a hand on Furina's shoulder, stopping her in her tracks.

"Furina," Clorinde said quietly, her voice full of sincerity.

Furina paused, glancing over her shoulder. "Yeah, Clorinde?"

Clorinde gave her a small, approving smile. "Good work in holding yourself together."

Furina nodded, a small but grateful smile tugging at her lips. "Thanks, Captain..."

With that, Furina grabbed her luggage, making her way out of the clinic and toward the parking lot. She could feel the weight of the day settling in as she climbed into her car, the drive back home to Marcotte stretching before her.

Hours later, Furina found herself lying in bed at her home in the suburbs of Narbonnais. Her phone buzzed beside her, the screen lighting up with a notification. She unlocked it, scrolling through her feed as an article caught her eye.

The headline read: "Drunken Passenger Tries to Fight First Officer. Gets Restrained By Her."

Furina's eyes widened in disbelief. "What?"

She tapped on the article, her curiosity piqued, and began to read.

"An Air Fontania flight bound for Windrise International Airport diverted back to Marcotte International Airport after a drunk passenger became unruly during cruise. When the first officer of the flight, identified as First Officer Furina De Fontaine, attempted to calm the passenger down, the situation escalated. The passenger punched the first officer in the face, causing her to fall to the ground. However, the first officer quickly regained her composure, punching the passenger back and restraining him on the floor. The passenger, identified as thirty-year-old Marcel, was arrested and charged with disorderly conduct and assault."

Furina scrolled down further to find a video. Curiosity overtook her, and she tapped on it. The video played, showing the entire confrontation unfold—from the verbal warnings to the physical altercation, to Furina getting punched in the face, to her fighting back and eventually restraining the drunken passenger. The footage even caught the blood dripping from her nose as she walked back to the cockpit, handkerchief pressed to her face.

Furina closed her phone with a sigh. "Looks like I'm in the news now," she muttered to herself. "But maybe for the right reasons..."

She allowed herself a small, smug smirk before closing her eyes, settling back against her pillow. Another day over. But it was a day she might not soon forget—one of two days she'd rather erase from memory.