"Sir, can you assign me work? I don't wanna sit here without doing something. I could help you as a maid," I said to the general, my voice trembling with a strange mix of fear and longing. The room felt heavy, his presence almost suffocating yet comforting at once.
"Say me Akira, not general or sir please. And why you work as maid for me? Why not you become a soldier? We have lack of female soldiers," Akira replied, his tone a velvet whisper that sent an unfamiliar warmth crawling under my skin.
"Soldier!?" I replied, my voice cracking with shock.
"Yes, princess, a soldier. But don't worry, I'll protect and train you," Akira said softly.
I didn't hear the rest of his sentence — my world stopped spinning at the word princess. No one had ever called me that before. People used to call me bitch, slave, useless. But princess… the word shattered me in the most fragile way. I had no idea what I was going to do in the army, but I couldn't refuse him. The way he asked — so gentle, so sure — made me surrender.
"So what is my first task, Akira sir?" I asked, my voice shaking.
"Can you just say me Akira? You are exception here — or my princess. Ok, jokes aside, you are my helper. You just have to remain beside me," Akira replied.
A chance to work with Akira. I couldn't believe it. The thought alone made my chest flutter. I didn't know why, but I only felt safe near him. Everyone else terrified me. I had no idea how to speak to people, how to act… how to exist among them.
"Amane! Come here, please," Akira called out, his voice commanding yet gentle.
"I'm coming!" I said quickly, almost tripping over my own words.
"So, Amane, can you please help me in carrying these crates to the wagon?" Akira asked me gently.
I tried to pick up the first crate — it was easy. I'd carried heavier things before; housework had built strange strength in me. Akira's eyes widened, impressed. A flicker of pride danced in my chest. For the first time, someone noticed my strength. I loaded the crates into the wagon one by one, my heart secretly craving his praise.
"Ok, Amane, now sit beside me in the wagon. We are going to the training camp to give you some skills," Akira ordered.
I nodded silently and sat beside him. He reached over, fastened the seatbelt around me — his hand brushing my shoulder. My breath hitched. He always treated me like I was fragile, like a child. It was sweet… and unbearably frustrating.
Half an hour later, we reached the camp. Akira jumped out of the wagon effortlessly. I opened the door, realizing it was too high for me. Still, I jumped — and fell. The ground hit hard, pain blooming across my knees. Akira laughed. Not cruelly — but teasingly. It stung anyway.
As I dusted off my clothes, he approached. His laughter died. He put a knife to my neck.
My heart froze.
The blade's cold kiss traced my skin — not deep, just enough to make me shiver. Fear and strange electricity tangled inside me.
He leaned close, his breath brushing my ear. "So, you don't know anything about defense. What if I killed you? Won't you resist, Amane?"
For a terrifying second, I thought he meant it. Then, with a sudden chuckle, he tapped my forehead. "You are an innocent baby girl, isn't it?"
"What kind of way is that to say I'm amateur…" I muttered under my breath, heat flooding my face.
"Ok, so little princess of innocence," he said, smirking. "I don't think you can be soldier, so you are my personal assistant now. All you have to do is manage my home."
"Yes s…sir…" I stammered.
"I'm Akira, not sir. Now sit there while I'm training," he said, smiling that disarming smile.
I sat on the bench, watching him train. Every movement — sharp, disciplined, beautiful. He's strong. A man of many faces — kind, teasing, dangerous. He intrigued me, confused me, made my heart ache for reasons I didn't understand.
I felt dizzy after a while. My vision blurred… and then, darkness.
When I woke up, I was in a bed — soft, unfamiliar, scented faintly with him. My pulse raced. Where am I? Before panic took over, Akira stepped into the room.
"So, how was your nap, princess, on my bed?" he asked, that same mischievous smile curling his lips.
I blushed violently. "I'm so sorry! I don't remember how I came here. I'll clean this bed, I promise." My words stumbled out as sweat trickled down my neck.
"Chill, chill," he laughed, the sound both soothing and dangerous — like the calm before a storm,
he laughed while replying and put hands gently on my face and said gently "Akira ,not sir."
He was always so kind to me . Always make me feel wanting him more and more. Whenever I was besides him , I want time to pause. Were angels real or if they are so was he an angel?