Akira slowly opened her eyes, the echoes of the gunshot and the rain-slicked streets of her memory fading into the quiet hum café.Her expression remained unchanged, as cold and composed as ever, but the moment she opened her eyes, they were glistening with tears.With a steady hand, she adjusted her spectacles, the light glinting off the lenses.
She stood up, her gray blazer perfectly tailored to her frame, giving her the aura of a high-level professional—the perfect image of a dedicated book editor. Yet, despite her composed exterior, a thin bead of sweat trickled down her neck, the only physical sign of the mental toll that recalling "Mr. Sato" had taken on her.
She gathered her belongings, tucked the secret files and the manuscript into her bag, and walked out of the cafe. The evening air didn't cool the fire of her thoughts. She unlocked her car and slid into the driver's seat, the engine coming to life with a low growl.
As she drove toward home, the ruthless Agent CY began to recede, and the partner Naea loved began to take over. On the way, she made a brief stop at a small shop to buy Naea's favorite ice-cream. It was a small, domestic gesture—a peace offering for her soul, and a way to wash away the scent of gunpowder with the sweetness of vanilla.
By the time she reached the house, it was exactly 6:00 PM. She parked the car, gripped the bag of ice-cream, and unlocked the front door. As the door swung open, the warmth of the home hit her, a sharp contrast to the cold memory she had left behind in the cafe.
Akira stepped inside, the weight of the ice cream bags in her hands a grounding reality. She placed her shoes neatly in the rack and slipped into her house slippers, calling out in a soft, native Japanese tone, "I'm home."
At the dining table, Naea was busy arranging the dishes. Without turning around, she replied in a gentle, melodic voice, "Hurry up and wash your hands. Dinner is ready."
Akira moved further into the warmth of the kitchen, placing the ice cream in the freezer. As she turned around, she caught sight of Naea. She was still plating the food, her hair tied up in a messy bun that somehow made her look even more radiant in the soft glow of the kitchen lights.
As Naea walked toward the kitchen counter to grab the salad, she caught Akira's eye. Seeing Akira still in her professional gray blazer and spectacles, a sweet, knowing smile spread across Naea's face.
Akira didn't say a word. The coldness of "CY" had completely melted away, replaced by an overwhelming wave of affection. She stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Gently, she cupped Naea's face in her hands—the hands that had once held a rifle—and leaned down to press a tender, lingering kiss on Naea's forehead.
It was a moment of pure, silent devotion.
Drawing back just an inch, Akira looked deep into Naea's eyes. Her own eyes were still slightly misted from the memories at the cafe. In a low, breathy whisper, she said:
"Naea... take off my glasses."
As Naea reached up, her fingers grazing the frame of the spectacles, Akira didn't wait. The moment the weight of the glasses left her face, the last barrier between her past and her present vanished.
Akira slid her hand behind the nape of Naea's neck, her fingers tangling in the soft stray hairs of that messy bun, pulling her impossibly close. She claimed Naea's lips in a kiss that was deep, desperate, and overflowing with a decade's worth of unspoken protection.
It was a feverish dance of shadows and light. Akira pressed forward with a sudden, hungry intensity, her steps forcing Naea backward. Naea's heart hammered against her ribs, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the spectacles tight, her breath hitching in her throat.
Just as Naea felt the edge of the dining table press against her waist, Akira moved with the fluid, lethal grace of a predator turned protector. Without breaking the kiss for even a second, she swept her arm around Naea's waist and hoisted her up, seating her firmly on the table. The shift was so seamless, so powerful, that it left Naea breathless, trapped between the cold surface of the wood and the overwhelming warmth of the woman who had sacrificed everything to keep her safe.The kiss continued for a few more seconds, deep and overwhelming, until Naea gently broke away. She hadn't kissed back yet—she had been too stunned by the sheer intensity of Akira's sudden passion.
Naea stayed seated on the table, looking into Akira's eyes, her voice barely a whisper. "What happened, Akira? Is everything okay?"
Instead of answering with words, Akira pulled Naea into a tight, desperate hug. She buried her face in Naea's shoulder, as if trying to hide from the rest of the world. "I just... I missed you so much," Akira murmured. "I couldn't stop thinking about you."
Naea let out a soft, amused laugh, her hands coming up to stroke Akira's back. "Akira, it was only your first day back at work! And you missed me this much already?"
Akira didn't laugh. She tightened her hold, her voice thick with an emotion she couldn't quite name. "If it were up to me, I'd never let you go. Not even for a second."
Sensing the unusual weight in Akira's voice, Naea pulled back slightly to look at her face. Her heart sank when she saw the glisten of tears in Akira's eyes. Without a word, Naea leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to Akira's forehead, and then one to each of her closed eyelids, chasing the sadness away.
"I'm yours now, Akira," Naea said, a teasing smile playing on her lips to lighten the mood. "You can see me whenever you want. You don't have to be so dramatic."
Akira finally managed a small, genuine smile. Naea gently patted her cheek. "Now, go change for dinner. Everything is getting cold."Akira turned away and headed toward their room, the silence of the hallway providing a brief sanctuary to collect her thoughts. Within five minutes, she had shed the heavy gray blazer and the professional mask of the "Prosecutor." She emerged wearing simple, comfortable home clothes, looking much softer and more approachable.
As she walked back into the dining area, she stopped in her tracks.
The table was set beautifully, the steam still rising from the dishes, but Naea hadn't touched a single bite. She was sitting there patiently, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes lighting up the moment Akira entered the room. She had been waiting—not out of obligation, but out of a deep-seated habit of togetherness.
For Akira, seeing Naea wait for her was a sharp reminder of the life she was fighting to protect. Every "Vanish" she performed for the Agency, every secret she kept as Agent CY, was all for this—this simple, quiet moment where she wasn't a weapon or a legal authority, but someone worth waiting for.
"You didn't have to wait, Naea," Akira said softly, pulling out her chair.
Naea just smiled, a look of pure contentment on her face. "Dinner doesn't taste the same if I eat it alone. Now, sit. Let's eat before it actually gets cold."
Akira sat down, the warmth of the room finally seeping into her bones. She picked up her chopsticks, but instead of taking a bite for herself, she carefully selected the best portion from her plate. With a steady hand—the same hand that had felt so heavy at the cafe—she reached across the table.
"Open your mouth," Akira murmured, her voice filled with a quiet, protective tenderness.
Naea blinked, a playful glint in her eyes, but she didn't hesitate. She leaned forward and took the bite directly from Akira's hand. As she chewed, a soft, radiant smile spread across her face, her eyes crinkling at the corners.Watching Naea eat, watching her live a life of peace and innocence, was the only absolution Akira would ever get. She wasn't just feeding her partner; she was convincing herself, one bite at a time, that every dark thing she had done as Agent CY was justified.Naea swallowed and giggled softly. "I told you to eat because you were late, and here you are, looking after me instead."Akira didn't reply with words. She simply watched Naea, her heart finally finding its rhythm again.
Naea set her chopsticks down for a moment, resting her chin on her palm as she watched Akira. "So, how was your actual day? Besides missing me," she added with a playful wink. "What kind of book did you get assigned to edit this time?"
Akira paused, the memory of the cold, classified file in her bag flashing through her mind for a split second. She looked at Naea's innocent, curious face and felt the familiar weight of her double life.
"The day wasn't too bad," Akira replied, her tone shifting into a smooth, teasing lilt. She leaned in slightly, a mischievous glint returning to her eyes. "But the story I'm working on... it's quite intense. It's about a character who keeps far too many secrets from the people she loves. I think the author is trying to make me suffer through the suspense."
Naea said softly Well, you always were a sucker for a complex plot. Just don't let the 'fictional' drama stress you out too much okay ? "
"I'll try," Akira murmured, her gaze softening.
Akira looked at Naea, a genuine, softened smile breaking through her professional exterior. "Well, Naea... dinner tonight was incredible. Truly delicious."
Naea beamed at the compliment, her eyes sparkling with happiness. The tension of the day seemed to dissolve in that simple exchange. Once they finished, they moved in perfect sync—Akira washing the dishes while Naea stood beside her, drying them with a soft cloth and tucking them away. It was a rhythmic, silent dance of a couple who had shared this space for a long time.
After the kitchen was clean, Akira headed to the fridge. She pulled out the ice cream she had bought earlier—a small peace offering for the secrets she carried. Instead of heading straight to the couch where Naea had settled down, Akira walked back to the dining table. She carefully scooped the ice cream into two elegant glass bowls, making sure the presentation was perfect.
Across the room, Naea was engrossed in her phone, her brow furrowed in concentration. She was already looking over the High School syllabus for tomorrow, preparing the lessons for Zheng. Even in her downtime, Naea was thinking about how to help others grow.
"Naea," Akira called out softly, her voice echoing gently through the quiet house.
Naea looked up from her screen, the light of the phone reflecting in her eyes. She saw Akira standing by the table, gesturing toward the bowls of melting sweetness.
"Ice cream is served," Akira said with a tilt of her head, inviting Naea back into their private world, away from schoolbooks and hidden files.
Naea walked over to the table, but instead of sitting in the chair right next to Akira, she pulled out the one directly opposite her. She sat down with an innocent, knowing smile, as if she enjoyed the view from across the table.
Akira blinked, her spoon hovering mid-air. She looked at the empty chair beside her and then back at Naea, a hint of confusion—and disappointment—crossing her face. "Why are you sitting all the way over there?" she asked, her voice slightly strained. "Come sit here, next to me."
Naea just shrugged playfully, looking completely at ease. "I'm fine right here, Akira. I like this spot tonight."
Akira didn't push it further, but the distance felt like a mile. She tried to focus on her ice cream, taking two large, quick scoops to distract herself, but her heart wasn't in it. She hated having Naea so far away. Determined to get Naea's attention and maybe trick her into moving closer, she took a massive third scoop.
Suddenly, a sharp, cold sting shot through her head. Akira let out a small, pained wince—a genuine brain freeze.
"Akira? What's wrong?" Naea asked, her voice laced with immediate concern as she leaned forward.
Akira rubbed her temple, feeling a bit foolish. The legendary Agent CY, who could handle high-stakes negotiations and life-threatening missions, had been defeated by a bowl of vanilla ice cream.
"It's nothing," Akira muttered, trying to regain her composure. "It was just... a bit too cold."
Her little plan to act "hurt" so Naea would rush to her side had completely flopped. She realized that while she could outsmart the Agency, outsmarting Naea's innocent stubbornness was a much harder task.
Akira took another slow bite of her ice cream, her eyes fixed on the empty space across the table. She decided to change her tactics. "You know, Naea," she began, her voice casual yet calculated. "The author of the book I'm editing... she's a young college student. About twenty-one, just like you. She's pursuing medicine, but she wants to be a writer now."
She paused, letting the silence hang for a moment before adding the finishing touch. "The cafe manager told me a bit about her. Apparently, she's quite pretty. Her hair isn't too long, nor too short—just perfectly framed."
The effect was instantaneous.
Naea didn't just move to the chair next to her. She stood up, walked around the table, and before Akira could even process the movement, Naea sat directly on Akira's lap.
The move was so swift, so assertive, that Akira's breath hitched in her throat. The spoon she was holding froze mid-air, forgotten. Her instincts as an agent were sharp, but her heart was completely defenseless against Naea's sudden proximity.
Akira's hand instinctively found its place on the small of Naea's back, her touch hesitant yet firm as she steadied her. The distance that had frustrated her just moments ago had vanished completely, replaced by the warmth of Naea's body and the faint, sweet scent of her hair.
The "Editor" had played her cards right, but the "Agent" was now at the mercy of the girl she had sacrificed everything to protect.
Naea leaned in closer, her hand resting firmly across Akira's shoulder, her gaze locked onto those deep, charcoal eyes. "Well," she whispered, her voice laced with a dangerous sweetness, "it seems my 'Editor' knows a little too much about her new author."
Akira didn't flinch. Instead, a slow, dark smirk spread across her lips—the look of a woman who knew exactly which buttons she had pushed. "Are you jealous, Naea?" she murmured, her voice a low vibration that seemed to heat the air between them.
That smirk was the final straw.
Naea didn't offer a verbal comeback. She closed the agonizing inch of space between them, her lips crashing against Akira's with a sudden, uncharacteristic hunger. This wasn't the gentle, hesitant kiss Akira was used to from her; this was a claim.
The kiss was fierce and passionate, fueled by the raw energy of Naea's possessiveness. She kissed Akira as if she were trying to leave a mark, a silent reminder that no matter how many "pretty authors" Akira met, she belonged right here. Her movements were urgent and breathless, her fingers tightening on Akira's shoulder as she poured all her frustration and love into the embrace.
Stunned but delighted, Akira's hands responded instantly. She slid them down Naea's back, pulling her flush against her chest, deepening the contact until their heartbeats merged into one frantic rhythm. In the quiet of the dining room, the ice cream melted forgotten on the table, overshadowed by the heat of a jealousy that had finally spiraled out of control.
Naea finally broke the kiss after ten breathless seconds, her chest heaving as she tried to pull away and stand up. But Akira's hands remained locked firmly around her waist, refusing to grant her permission to leave.
Akira leaned back slightly, her gaze locking onto Naea's wide, brown eyes. A playful, admiring glint danced in her charcoal depths. "Well," Akira murmured, her voice a low, smooth velvet. "I'd always heard that the innocent ones are the wildest in romance... but seeing it live? NGL (Not gonna lie), Naea... you really are perfect at everything you do."
The teasing words hit their mark. The bold, possessive woman who had just claimed Akira's lips vanished in an instant, replaced by the shy, soft Naea. A deep crimson blush crept up her neck and onto her cheeks.
"I—I'm going to sleep!" Naea stammered, finally managing to wiggle out of Akira's hold.
She turned and hurried toward the bedroom, her heart still racing, not daring to look back. Akira stayed seated at the table, watching her retreat with a soft, triumphant smile. Seeing Naea switch from that intense dominance back to her sweet, shy self was the highlight of her day.
The weight of the Agency and the "Red Marker" file was still there, but for tonight, the warmth of that kiss was the only thing Akira wanted to remember.