This package does not arrive on Sara's birthday. In fact, it winds up in her hands some months later, crumpled and creased as if it'd been kicked to its destination, stamped with the red and black ink from Fontaine's postal service, marked over with the letters of Komaniya Express. This package has been on a long and confusing journey across Teyvat, urged along by the detective work of a few kind people along the way.
But even then, it winds up in Sara's hands ultimately by chance, because it is brought to the Tenryou Commission as suspicious contraband.
The contents of it are nothing so outstanding. In fact, when Sara finally cuts through all the notices and ink on top, she might think that there was little reason for so much excitement over one little gift. What sits inside, wrapped in a thin plastic shopping bag, is a plain white jewelry box holding a bronze badge emblazoned with the cosmic letters for the Galaxy Rangers. It's not the real thing, of course - the Galaxy Rangers carry nothing so conspicuous to unite them - and resembles something that might belong better in a souvenir store. Still, Sara would not necessarily know this, and it's clear that there was some thought put into the gift.
Without a letter, the only thing to identify its sender is the bullet that rolls around in the box like an afterthought.
The package arrives closer to winter than her birthday.
Its delivery causes quite the unexpected commotion, a recruit stumbling into Sara’s office, breathless, clutching a worn box like it might explode. For a second, Sara thinks it just might, what with how the boy’s knuckles are white around the edges, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard while explaining the confiscated item.
The box is addressed to her.
Or at least, everyone seems to think that it is. There’s only a single word written for its receiver, “Sara”. No titles, no addresses, not even a landmark for the poor couriers to look out for.
The package sits on her desk long after the stammering recruit has been dismissed. Sara stares at it, turning it over once, twice, tracing the salt-stiffened edges with her thumb. It’s certainly taken quite the trip, Fontaine’s ink bleeding into Sumeru’s wax, Liyue’s broken seal, the Komaniya Express’s hasty scrawl… All tell-tale signs of just how lost this thing was, and now it’s finally here with its intended recipient—their beloved Nekomata’s note on the courier label confidently assures that.
After much deliberation, she slices through the layers of tape—then freezes.
A jewelry box.
Her fingers hesitate just a second too long before flipping it open, dread already settling in her stomach. Not again. The last one had contained a silver band and a three-page declaration of devotion from some merchant’s son in Ritou. (She’d burned the letter and returned the ring with a formal notice about proper channels for addressing officers of the Shogunate. The Tenryou Commission’s clerks still snickered about it.)
But no—this isn’t some lovestruck fool’s offering, thankfully. Just a cheap bronze badge and a single bullet rattling loose in the box.
She runs her thumb along the raised branding, eyes the single bullet rolling freely inside the box, and huffs out a laugh. Come to think of it, he did say she was always welcome to join if she ever got bored with her job, didn’t he?
For the rest of the day, some soldiers would notice a bronze badge clipped to the mock of Sara’s uniform. They trade glances, but none dare ask.
Sara offers no explanation, either.
