Time spun slowly in that quiet room.
Pearl taught me how to position the paper, how to press the keys with just enough pressure. My fingers trembled each time the metal arms struck the page, leaving neat black imprints.
But my mind wasn't here.
It was with him.
Somewhere beyond these walls, in danger.
Pearl leaned over me, her perfume faint and comforting.
"See? Not so hard," she murmured.
I nodded, though my attention kept drifting toward the door… toward the hallway where he had disappeared.
Footsteps suddenly echoed from outside — sharp, fast, purposeful.
Pearl stopped talking.
Someone was coming.
The door swung open.
Akira entered, his expression fierce, jaw tight, eyes dark with a storm that hadn't settled. His uniform was slightly disheveled, a few strands of hair falling over his forehead, chest rising with sharp breaths — like he had been running… or fighting with the world.
For a moment, he didn't speak.
He just stood there, staring at me.
Not at Pearl.
Not at the typewriter.
At me.
His eyes softened — not visibly, but enough for my ribs to tighten around my lungs.
"Everything okay here?" he asked, voice low, controlled, but something raw trembled beneath.
Pearl rolled her eyes dramatically.
"No, she died from typing. Sad funeral. So tragic."
Akira shot her a murderous look. Pearl laughed. "Relax, General Stone Head. Your assistant is fine."
But his eyes didn't leave me.
"Amane," he said, in a voice too quiet for Pearl, too serious for the casual chaos of their world, "come with me."
The air shifted.
My pulse raced. Why did my name sound different when he said it?
I stood, legs unsteady. Pearl gave me a playful wink, clearly entertained.
Akira didn't wait. He turned and walked out, expecting — knowing — I would follow.
I did.
The corridor was dim, lit only by stray pools of lamplight. His footsteps were silent, but I could feel his presence — the darkness that clung to him like a second skin.
He suddenly stopped.
I almost collided with his back, but he turned swiftly, catching my wrist before I could stumble. His fingers wrapped around me, firm, warm, protective.
Too protective.
The touch sent a tremor down my spine.
"You shouldn't worry about things like earlier," he said. His voice wasn't commanding now — it was quiet, careful."I handled it."
Handled… what?
I swallowed. "Is… is anyone hurt?"
He studied me, eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to read something inside me.
"You're worried about me," he said.
Not a question.
A fact.
Heat rose up my neck. "I—I wasn't—"
His grip on my wrist loosened, but he didn't let go.
"You don't have to pretend," he murmured. "No one ever worries about me. Not like that."
Every word chipped at the armor he wore. Not the general. Not the commander.
Just Akira.
He exhaled slowly, as if trying to steady himself.
"You don't understand what you are walking into," he whispered."People don't stay near me. They
run."
His thumb brushed lightly against the pulse in my wrist.A silent warning.
A silent confession.
My voice barely came out. "I don't want to run."
His eyes darkened — not with anger, but something far more dangerous.
Desire.
"No," he said quietly, voice dropping to a whisper that brushed my skin like a promise. "You don't understand. I might not let you."
Silence stretched between us. Tight. Heavy. Breathless.
And then—
"Akira!"
Pearl appeared at the end of the hallway, waving her arms like she was chasing away tension.
Akira's hand released me instantly, the warmth vanishing like a ghost.
Pearl pushed between us, grinning.
"Sorry to break the romance, but I need Amane for finishing the letter."
Romance.
The word struck my heart so hard it hurt.
Akira took a deep breath, pulling himself back into his usual expressionless calm.
"Fine," he muttered, stepping back. "I'll see you later."
Not we'll meet.
Not you can come to me.
I will see you. Like a promise.Like an inevitability.
As I walked back with Pearl, I felt his gaze burning into my back — not possessive.
But drawn. Intrigued. Dangerously aware of me.
And in my chest, one truth settled like a curse I didn't know how to escape:
I wasn't afraid of him anymore. I was afraid of what he was becoming to me.