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kaiijo · 11 months ago

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A GATHERING OF CLOUDS — BLADE

content: fem! reader, angst, bittersweet/open ending, generally follows the clouds leave no trace mission but i’ve taken some liberties, spoilers for post-xianzhou arc, reader is one of the ten stonehearts and goes by ‘tourmaline’ notes: this story mission broke my heart

You sigh as you read through the massive file your department head dumped on you. From what you’ve skimmed through, it seems that there’s a problem you’ll have to arbitrate on the planet of Venovia regarding the building of their Quantum Collider. The problem is simple, really, just a matter of the neighboring planet refusing to grant clearance for the collider — did this report really have to go on for over seventy pages?

You’re about to flip to the next page when there’s a knock at your door. “Come in,” you call, eyes darting across the text in front of you.

“Well, you look like you’ve got your work cut out for you,” Topaz says as she walks in, sitting down in the chair in front of you.

You snort, looking up at her. “No rest for the wicked, I suppose. Yan Shilou gave me this yesterday and said a resolution had to be proposed by the end of the week.”

“Three days away, then. Better get on it!”

“I would be working on it now if someone wasn’t distracting me in my office,” you say but your voice lacks any irritation.

Topaz laughs a little, “What? You don’t want me to say bye before I head to Jarilo-VI?”

“Aeons, that’s right! I forgot!” You open up the bottom drawer of your desk and root around, finally feeling your fingers brush against what you’re looking for. You pull it out and hand her the box, wrapped in a cream-colored paper and secured with an orange ribbon.

She opens the gift, finding a pair of dark gloves identical to the ones she usually wears, but you explain, “There’s lined inside. Belobog’s eternal freeze is nothing to joke about.”

“Wow!” She slides them onto her hands and says, “Thank you! They’re so soft inside!”

“It was my pleasure!” You smile at her and you two chat for a little before she gets up to leave. There’s a knock at your door before she can and you beckon the person to enter.

Your assistant shuffles in, apologetically glancing between your mountain of paper and Topaz. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I can come back—”

“Don’t worry, I was just about to leave,” Topaz says and she wiggles her fingers at you as a goodbye, disappearing around the corner.

“Mail’s come in.” He hands you a small stack of letters, keeping one in his hand. You motion at it in question and he says, “This one’s odd. There’s no return address or any indication where it came from.”

He leans over to give it to you and you slice it open with a dagger-shaped letter opener. Your assistant eyes it and says, “I always forget to tell you how cool that thing is. It’s so well-made!”

Your finger runs over the grooves of the handle. Even though the metal is cool, you swear you can still feel the warmth of the forge and of the hands who crafted it. You turn it over in your hand and finally manage to reply, “Thank you.”

You know it sounds flat and strained so you instead busy yourself with the letter. There’s no visible ink when you slide it out of the envelope but as you unfold it, the words materialize into a message written in swift, decisive strokes.

It has been a very long while, hasn’t it? I hear you’re going by Tourmaline now. It suits you, as does your high-ranking position in the Talent Motivation Department of the IPC — you always were a mediator. I know you have run off to the farthest corner of the universe to leave behind what has transpired. But in accordance with our old vow, I invite you once again roam our lands of past, drink in celebration and recount our great adventures.

You think your heart has stopped and your eyes examine the words over and over again. You forgot that your assistant is still in the room. He clears his throat hesitantly and asks, “Are you alright, ma’am?”

You suck in a deep breath and plaster a mask of smile on your face as you answer, “Yes, I am fine. You’re dismissed. And thank you for bringing in the mail.”

He casts you another worried look but says no more, nodding and exiting, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. You don’t realize how much you’re trembling until you pick up the note to read it one last time, the thin sheet shaking too.

You scoff as your eyes fall on the final sentence and you scoff. As if vows meant anything to them.

Your stomach churns and there’s a sting behind your eyes that you haven’t felt in years, yet you’re reaching for your phone and reserving a starskiff to the Xianzhou Luofu before you know it.

“I believe that’s checkmate,” you said, grinning triumphantly as Jing Yuan froze, eyes darting across the board, trying to find a way out.

“There’s always a way out,” he huffed, hand hovering over one piece, then another, then another.

You replied, “That’s not how chess works.”

He glowered at you and Jingliu sighed, standing behind Jing Yuan to gaze at the board. “You should have moved your knight here,” she said, pointing at a square. “Then you would have beaten her in three more moves and avoided the capture of the queen.”

Jing Yuan didn’t answer, still surveying the board. Dan Feng rolled his eyes at your friend’s fruitless determination. You laid back, delighting in the light mist of water that sprays from the surrounding waterfalls. You loved Scalegorge Waterscape — it was rare to find somewhere with so much nature in the Alliance. “Wait,” Jing Yuan said and you sighed dramatically. He continued, “What if—”

A low gravelly voice sounded behind you. “Give it up, Jing Yuan, she has bested you again.”

You tilted your head to the source of the voice and smiled again, big and wide, heat sparking through your body when he offered you that signature smirk. Baiheng dashed ahead of him, waving the large bag of food they had picked up. He sat down beside you, long lithe fingers reaching over to brush a stray piece of hair from your face.

“Miss?” You jolt awake with a tight feeling in your chest. Your starskiff driver is turned around in his seat and staring at you. “We’ve arrived.”

“Oh!” You scramble to give him his credits and you climb out, stepping onto the Xianzhou Luofu for the first time in seven centuries.

Central Starskiff Haven is as busy as you remember, bustling with passengers embarking and disembarking from various spacecrafts. Merchants hawk their wares loudly, tourists slowing down to peruse as residents quickly rush past.

You weave in between the crowds, the familiar smells of berrypheasant skewers and songlotus cake making your mouth water. Despite your anxiety, your heart swells as the sights and sounds and smells around you. You begin to make your way towards the next starskiff terminal when you hear footsteps approaching rapidly from behind. You tense, steeling yourself when you feel a hand on your shoulder. A voice breathes out your name in disbelief and your own eyes widen at the familiar sound. You turn around. “Yukong.”

She stares at you, repeating your name once more. A tentative smile appears and she says, “It’s been a while.”

“It has. How have you been?”

“Well, all things considered.” She hesitates and says, “A lot has happened since you left.”

Your stomach churns with guilt and you force out an answer: “You know I had to get away. After everything that happened—”

“Yes, I know.” She cuts you off and you can hear the betrayal leaking into her otherwise stoic tone. She squares her shoulder and asks, “What are you doing back?”

“I…” You debate telling her the whole truth but, perhaps against your better judgment, you don’t. Instead, you say, “I need to meet with Jing Yuan.” It’s not a lie, technically, but Yukong knows you better and from the way her lips purse, you can tell she doesn’t believe you entirely.

“The general is not at the Seat of Divine Foresight at the moment. He’s dealing with matters concerning a prisoner right now.”

“I see.”

Another silence. When Yukong breaks it, you expect her to inquire further but she says, “You don’t have your bow on you.”

It makes you smile slightly. “I do, just not so conspicuously now.” You gesture to an intricate band around your wrist.

“I’m surprised. You never would have parted with it before.”

“Things change.” Your eyes flicker over her and you ask, “Do you remember when I gifted you your first bow?”

It makes her smile a little too. “Yes. It was far too big for me. Baiheng laughed and laughed that day. I still have it.”

“Really?”

“It’s at home, hanging on my wall.”

“I figured you would have disposed of it, given everything…”

She sighs, “I thought about it but I couldn’t part with it. No matter what has transpired over these many years we’ve been estranged, you are still my bow master.” You don’t get a chance to reply before Yukong says, “I have to return to the Palace of Astram.”

“I understand.” You tilt your head up and look at the clear blue sky. Perfect flying weather. You look back at her. “Perhaps we can catch up some other time.”

A pause, then she nods. “I would like that.” Turning on her heel, she moves to leave, but over her shoulder, Yukong says, “Until next time, master.” Then, she melts into the bustling crowd and disappears among them.

With a heavy exhale, you decide to go to Scalegorge Waterscape. You board a starskiff and head for Scalegorge Waterscape. It’s not a long journey at all but it feels interminable. Your heart pounds against your ribcage when you land, the sand soft under your boots as you disembark.

You can see the looming columns in the distance and you push down your nerves as you walk towards them, passing by the statue of your old friend. As you approach, a young boy with a blond ponytail walks past with a group of Cloud Knights flanking a man. The boy eyes you suspiciously and he’s about to question you when the man in custody says, “I presume you’re a part of the reunion.”

You don’t answer, brushing past both swiftly and silently. You see Jing Yuan first, his eyes meeting yours resolutely. He calls your name, voice low. The three others turn to face you and your heart stops.

Jingliu, wearing the same blindfold covering her eyes that she had when she escaped the Xianzhou. Dan Feng, or rather, his reincarnation, gazing at you with a spark of recognition in his eyes as he reaches into the fog of his mind for memories of you.

And him. Yingxing, though, you don’t think he’s going by that name anymore. No, he’s taken on a different moniker, one befitting of the life he now leads. Blade, a Stellaron Hunter, a weapon for the Slave of Destiny.

You force your feet to move, dragging you forward until you stand between Dan Feng — or whatever name he goes by now — and Blade. Jingliu starts to move now, her steps precise, and she stops in the center of your circle. “And so,” she begins, “everyone is present. I never thought the High-Cloud Hexad would be able to gather again in the same place after hundreds of years.”

You watch her intently as she continues, recalling the promise you all made so many centuries ago. No matter what happened, you would all gather together and share a drink. You remember that day with too much clarity, how Baiheng grinned when she suggested it, bright and beaming like the sun. You remember clinking your cups together to toast the vow. Those days feel so distant, so unattainable now.

“How sad that Scalegorge Waterscape remains empty while the world continues to turn. Some of us have been reborn,” — her eyes slide over to Dan Feng’s reincarnation — “while others have been denied death.” Her head pivots towards Blade, addressing him still when she says, “Some have become criminals.”

Then, she faces you. “And others have never stopped running and lost their souls along the way.”

Your hands clench into fists and you bite your tongue to stop from retorting but you know all too well how the IPC is viewed by much of the galaxy. Maybe you hoped that you would be regarded as one of the good ones. Maybe it’s just been denial on your part.

Regardless, Jingliu is as she has always been, her words as sharp and accurate as ever. Your fingers brush over the band around your wrist that contains your bow.

“There are also those,” she says, peering upwards, “who can no longer fulfill their promises. And in the end, our friendship is no more. Soon, I will be shackled and tried. This will be the last you see of me. This is why I sent out the invitations before departing, hoping that everyone would be gathered here for my final farewell.”

Then, she utters the words you have heard time and time again in your sleep, in dreams and nightmares that never seem to end.

“Of six people, three must pay a price.”

She’s still speaking but her voice fades into the back of your mind as the sound of your blood roaring fills your ears. You feel cursed, sometimes, as a long-life species, doomed to live and remember and suffer.

You almost think Baiheng’s fate was the kindest of them all, unburdened of guilt and heartache and memories.

And just as soon as you all gather, Jingliu soon begins to dismiss you. She and Jing Yuan discuss where she will be detained and as they turn to leave, Blade interrupts. Coldly, he says, “Before you leave, you still owe me my due.”

It’s all too clear what he wants. Your stomach drops at his request and finally, you really look at the man who used to be the man you loved. One of his hands is gloved, the other wrapped in bandages. There’s a bandage around his thigh. Another twined at his bicep.

Your heart cracks. How much pain and suffering has he endured? How long has he begged for death and an end, felt the slide of a sword or the bullet of a gun, just to regrow again and return to the same agonizing cycle?

When Jingliu refuses to draw her sword against him without provocation, Blade draws his, an ancient, broken sword you’ve seen countless times when it was brand-new. One that has been shattered and pieced back together over and over again, just as its wielder has been as well.

You hear Jingliu’s dreamy voice float above the clanging of metal. “Their faces still linger before my eyes, like a bygone dream.” As they begin to duel, your head spins and memories you’ve buried deep down in the recesses of your heart and mind break through their confines and seep into your bones.

Baiheng’s loud laugh, ringing up to the stars as you walked the streets of Aurum Alley. Jingliu poured you a cup of tea as you caught up at her home. Jing Yuan fell asleep against your shoulder as you all sat together on a sunny day. Dan Feng’s exasperated voice called for you to slow down.

Jingliu continues: “I thought those joyful days would flow indefinitely before us — like a Xianzhou lifetime.” Blade lunges for her, the tip of his sword skimming close to her face, intentional in its avoidance. Instead, it slices her blindfold and it flutters into the wind.

You entered Yingxing’s workshop in the Artisanship Commission. Swords, daggers, and other weaponry lay around the shop, some cooling in water, fresh from the forge; others hanging on the wall. You found him hunched over his workbench, scowling and grumbling.

You crept with quiet steps to him, tapping his shoulder. Yingxing whirled around furiously, expression softening slightly when he saw you. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“You promised you’d meet up with me an hour ago and when you didn’t show, I figured you’d be here.” You tried to peer at his workbench, but he moved in front of you, broad shoulders blocking your view.

“What’re you working on?”

“Nothing.”

“You were just huffing and puffing, Yingxing. That doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“It’s nothing worth your time,” he replied, standing up to usher you to the door, but he didn’t anticipate your quick reflexes, and you skirted around him.

On the workbench sat a small ring. It was gold, dented and misshapen, so different from Yingxing’s regular work. “Don’t—” he started as you reached for it, turning it over in your fingers.

“Who’s this for?” you asked, stomach turning at the thought of it being for another.

“Nobody.”

You plastered a smirk on your face to hide your simmering jealousy. “Is it for that pretty shopgirl who always gives you an extra berrypheasant skewer for free?”

“No,” he grumbled.

“What about the girl—”

“It’s for you,” he said. “For your birthday next week.”

“Oh!” Your heart swelled and you bit back the grin that threatened to break out. “I’m sorry I ruined the surprise. It’s beautiful, Yingxing.”

“No, it’s not. Discard it. I will make you something better.”

You reeled back from him, cupping the (jewelry) protectively in your hands. “I love it! It’s already perfect!”

“It’s sloppy.”

You frown at him defiantly and slide it on your finger with ease. “It’s perfect.”

“In what way?”

“Because it came from you,” you said. “Because it’s thoughtful and kind and I love it, and I love you.” The minute the words left your mouth, your stomach dropped. It was out in the open now — the feelings you had been dancing around for months. Your unspoken pining finally made tangible with words.

He went still. “You love me?”

You laughed weakly, desperately fighting the anxiety clawing up your throat. “Isn’t it obvious?” When he didn’t reply, you began to say, “Forget I said anything”

“No,” he said. and then with one stride, he closed the gap between the two of you, lips crashing against yours.

Jingliu leaps into the air, sword aimed precisely and lethally. “Yet, dreams…” she says, “...will eventually fade — like clouds from the sky.”

You remembered when you had found out what Dan Feng and Yingxing had done, tampering with the Ambrosial Arbor and committing one of the most grievous of sins. You remembered how it felt like your heart had been ripped out when you heard of their fates, of Dan Feng’s forced reincarnation, Yingxing’s wicked immortality wrought by mara and his banishment. How you had sobbed and screamed and tore apart your shared home with Yingxing before your legs had given out and you sunk to the floor in despair and betrayal and hopelessness.

You left the Xianzhou Alliance soon after, packed up in the middle of a cold, gray night and disappeared. You couldn’t stay, not in the home that reminded you of him or on the fleet that reminded you of them, of everything. You were adrift for a long time before Diamond found you.

You watch as Jingliu drives her sword into Blade’s chest, the force sending him sprawling. She yanked it out of him, no blood spurting from the wound or flecking her blade. He lay there for minutes before jerking, eyes flying open and gasping for air. He sits up then stands quickly, and he says nothing further to her.

As Dan Feng’s reincarnation goes to speak with Jingliu, then Blade, and Jing Yuan (Dan Heng, you hear Jing Yuan call him), you cautiously approach Blade. He’s looking out into the distance of Scalegorge Waterscape but he turns when you stand beside him.

There’s no greeting, not that you expect one. He asks, “What do you go by now?”

“Tourmaline,” you answer.

He just continues to stare at you. Then, Blade’s eyes flick down, settling on your neck. He points at the ring that you wear on a chain around your neck. “This,” he says. “What’s this?”

Your heart aches. He doesn’t remember. Of course, he doesn’t; the mara fragments his mind. You’re sure it’s familiar to him, which is why he’s asking, but like Dan Heng, he does not have all his memories from your former life. “You— Yingxing made it for me.”

“It’s ugly.”

You can’t help but scowl at him and there’s a sense of deja vu as you snap, “No, it’s not.” It’s perfect because it came from you. Because you crafted weapons and armor and things that were meant to be sharp and lethal; you were unused to making something meant for softness and love and you did so anyway for me.

Blade doesn’t react. The breeze passing through rustles his long, dark hair. He’s as handsome as ever and you hate it. You hate this. You hate Jingliu for orchestrating this. You hate yourself for coming. And you hate him, this stranger who wears your beloved Yingxing’s face but will never be the man he once was.

You don’t even realize that there are tears rolling down your cheeks until you feel hands, strong and calloused from years of work the owner of the appendage can only remember in fragments, cup your cheek. His thumbs wipe at your tears but when your eyes meet him, he freezes, eyes widening ever so slightly as if he can’t believe he’s doing it himself, a subconscious instinct driving him. A memory of what was.

You expect him to withdraw swiftly but his hands are slow, fingers skimming your skin gently as if trying to savor the feeling and engrave it on their tips. They reach your chin, falling away. Blade’s arms hang at his sides and he’s still.

Then, he turns away and begins his journey out of Scalegorge Waterscape. He casts one last long look at you over his shoulder, expression unreadable. Something swims in his crimson eyes that you can’t discern. You want to say it’s longing, maybe even something affectionate, but the man you loved is long gone. You can’t read this stranger.

You blink and he’s vanished before your very eyes. It leaves you, Jing Yuan, and Dan Heng alone. Dan Heng says quietly to you, “You were the bow master of the Luofu.”

You offer him a sad smile. “I was.”

“Where are you going from here?” Jing Yuan asks.

“Back to Pier Point,” you respond softly. “I have matters to attend to for the IPC.”

“I see,” Jing Yuan says. “I would invite you to stay but I know it’s a selfish request.”

“Another time, General,” you say. “When I return again, we’ll meet up once more.” You address Dan Heng: “And you?”

“I’ll return to the Astral Express.”

“Ah,” you say wistfully, “a Trailblazer. It suits you.”

He gives you a nod and a small smile, and you say, “Goodbye, Jing Yuan. Goodbye, Dan Heng.”

You make your way back to the starskiff, still dutifully parked where you left it. As you climb inside, one last lingering memory drifts into your mind.

“When I die,” Yingxing said as he held you close, curled around you protectively, “promise you won’t forget me?”

“Why are you talking about this, my love? Planning on dying anytime soon?”

“It is something to consider. I am not a long-life species. So promise me when I am gone, you won’t forget me.”

You gaze up at him, “As if I could ever forget about you.”

You massage your temples. This Quantum Collider nonsense is more of a headache than you anticipated. “Mail’s in!” Your assistant waves a stack of envelopes at you, placing them on your desk before taking his leave.

You sift through the pile — bills, forms you had to sign, scam letters about an overdue warranty…

You pick out one envelope in particular. It’s red among a sea of white and you slice it open with your letter opener. The note you pull out only has a few words on it: a time and a place. There is no sign-off or official signature. All that is at the bottom was the Xianzhou character for the word ‘blade.’

#honkai: star rail x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #blade x reader #yingxing x reader #honkai star rail scenarios #honkai star rail imagines #hsr scenarios #hsr imagines

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reixtsu · 1 year ago

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Desire of a Double Suicide -

Synopsis: while you were vibing to Dazai’s double suicide song, Blade couldn't help but feel annoyed.

Genre: idk

Warnings: suicide content ahead! Do not read if this triggers you!

Word count: 567

"Shinju wa hidori dewa deki nai," You hummed, tapping your fingers to the beat as you laid down on the couch. "Shinju, shinju."

"What are you rambling on about this time, Y/n?" Came a gruff voice across the room from where you laid. Piercing red eyes glared at you.

You smirked, looking at him with a lopsided grin. "Double suicide!"

Ah, you were up to your ridiculous ideas. With a long sigh, he stood up and slowly walked up to you form, his dead glare never-changing. With one swift movement, he took off your headphones.

"Hey! I was vibing!"

"You are already annoying me with your double suicide dreams and it's only the morning." Blade growled, tossing your beloved headphones to the side. You whined, feigning distress as you struggled to sit back up on the couch.

With a childish pout, you flipped your middle finger at him. What a grave mistake. Smirking, Blade sat on you, his weight bearing down on your bones and organs.

"Hey! you're crushing me here!" you protested, your squirming and punches having no effect on him.

"This is what you get for being so foolish," Blade huffed. "Double suicide? Are you serious?"

You frowned, giving up on your useless squirming. "Aren't you suicidal? Surely you might understand the perspective of as double suicide, also known as a lovers suicide~."

Blade chuckled, a deep resonant sound that carried a rustic note. His laughter seemed to rumble deep within his cold center, filling the room with slight awkwardness yet warmth. "I may long for my death, but there are things I must do. My promised end will come, but a 'double-suicide' has never crossed my mind."

You sighed, long and breathy. "Understandable," You shrugged nonchalantly, causing Blade to get more irked. "But a girl can dream."

Blade leaned back, causing you to grunt in pain and curse the Aeons at him.

"You really are a fool. Sometimes I wonder if that nonchalant attitude is what drove Kafka to recruit you to the Stelleron Hunters." Then silence came. You stared up at Blade, your observant eyes taking in his form.

As he sat before you, his long, dark hair cascaded down his back, the red tips catching the light and adding a fiery contrast. His red eyes glinted with an intensity that matched his sharp figures, drawing you in. With a nervous hand, you carefully reached up to twirl your fingers with his silky smooth hair.

Blade flinched slightly at the subtle touch, turning to glare daggers at you. "What are you doing?"

You hummed, allowing yourself to continue playing with his hair, but to Blade's discomfort. "If you are ever interested in a double-suicide, let me know." you said softly. It felt weird as Blade looked at you blankly. He saw your eyes look at his hair, but your presence felt so far away, as if wishing for something unattainable.

He looked away, allowing you to do whatever you wanted. "That won't ever happen," he said sternly, his eyes narrowing at the idea. "If ever..."

You smiled, your attention returning back at him as you looked at his ears, which carried a slightly pink tint despite his blank facial expression. "Hm? Do continue," you teased.

"My sword... Will slay your enemies, so don't think about a double-suicide."

Your eyes widened slightly, your nonchalant facade cracking ever so slightly. "Oh. Thanks then," was all you could say before you regain your composure.

Author’s note: I’m sorry for those who still read this despite the warning being there. I had this idea one day that what if there was a Dazai like character in the stelleron hunters? Should they get along? I’m actually interested with writing different stories based on this idea.

#Reixtsu #blade x reader #hsr #Honkai star rail #hsr x reader #Honkai star rail x reader #star rail x reader #osamu dazai #X reader

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deathbxnny · 1 year ago

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May I please request Aeon of Cultivation! S/o with Emanator Yanqing?

The Aeon of Cultivation isn’t like Abundance. Whereas the Abundance is like the uncontrolled growth of a forest, the Cultivation is like a farm. Something carefully tended to and guided to grow while also allowing for the pruning of what a person doesn’t need.

Sorry, wanted to write a quick description of Cultivation so it’d be easier to understand , but the Aeon! S/O walks among people because they themselves want to know who they give their power to. Because before they ascended to Aeonhood, they want to be good, so they want to choose good people to give their power to.

On the Xianzhou, they meet Yanqing and, after getting to know him, make him their first Emanator as a way to help him grow his own skills (he doesn’t know he’s an Emanator until he finds that he can outpace the general or Fu Xuan tells him or something)

Thank you for all the awesome stories you share here. Hope this makes it before all the Yanqing angst returns.

Hey there, Anon!! I absolutely love this request, so I hope my little one-shot will do it justice!!<33

Content: light-hearted stuff for once, unserious, fluff, reader is an Aeon and Yanqing doesn't know about it at first, established relationship, Jing Yuan being Jing Yuan, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

Growing into glory. (Yanqing x Aeon!Gn!Reader)

"You know... I've been feeling odd lately." "Odd? How so?" "Well... would you believe me if I told you that I was able to beat Master Jing Yuan in a duel earlier today?" You hid a small, knowing smirk behind a fan, eyes turned away to slyly glance at the setting sun that was bidding it's last goodbyes over the ocean's horizon. You were both bathed in a warm, orange glow, your thumb idly running over his knuckles with a chuckle.

"Perhaps all the training has finally simply paid off?" You asked after a small pause, yet your lover didn't seem all too convinced. His nose wrinkled, eyes narrowing in disagreement as his head followed your gaze. "No... at least not entirely... I think there is more to it. I have never even gotten close to beating him before." You shrug at his words before you placed your fan down onto the wooden table and raised your teacup to your lips with a hum, unable to hide your amused grin anymore.

"Then I suppose that the seal stuck to your forehead did not solve the issue?"

Yanqing deadpanned at your words, his fingers ghosting over it absently with a shake of his head. He had a long day behind him, one filled with chaos after Jing Yuan for a moment believed that he was possessed again. And to say that the young Lieutenant did not appreciate having a seal slapped onto his forehead in panic by HuoHuo would be an understatement.

"I'm afraid not." He said, the annoyance so clear it made you nearly snort. "I believe he just did it out of spite." "Ofcourse." You agreed easily, enjoying your lover's cluelessness a little too much. You knew it was perhaps wrong to hide the truth from him... but you also enjoyed the smug and proud look on his face, as he most likely replayed his mentors defeat in his mind. As the Aeon of cultivation themselves, you couldn't help but think that letting him figure it out on his own would be the best way to go about it. It will help him grow further after all.

"Ugh... how am I supposed to get this seal off now? HuoHuo said that I shouldn't take it off in case I am possessed... but I'm not!" The boy pulled on it, wincing a little when it pulled his skin with it. You smiled a little, hand reaching out to replace his, before you just simply slid it off with ease. "There." You hummed and ignored the dumbfounded look on Yanqing's face as you decided to retire for the day after a swift and sly goodbye.

He watched you leave for a while, his hand holding onto the piece of Shuen paper in thought. You shouldn't have been able to take it off... but then again, there were many things about you that often left him wondering if you were hiding something after all, just like the general apparently believed.

It began with your rather mysterious origins on the Xianzhou. You never spoke of your past, and in a way, he supposed that that was one of the many things that made him interested in you in the first place. You believed in his strength, in his growth, always so awfully wise for the young few years you were supposed to have, and yet even after a while into courtship, he still felt this air of mystery surrounding you. One last detail to complete everything he knew about you.

But... perhaps he was looking too much into it... right?

The days went on in rather... interesting ways. He found himself growing a bigger appetite, often times ending with you and him sitting in restaurants near the ocean side whilst you watched him feast away with a content look in your eyes. All on you, ofcourse.

And then there was his sudden near inhuman strength he never had before. He was able to pick up bolders twice his size, swing heavier swords with ease. His senses seemed sharper, feet quicker, breath more steady, and even with longer lasting stamina. Despite the concern that ran through him at all these changes, he still found himself rather open to it in a way. Perhaps everything he had done over the years was indeed finally paying off! Or maybe... an Aeon had simply blessed him at last? He didn't know which was better... or worse.

Jing Yuan, on the other hand, seemed less impressed by the whole ordeal. Something he only let you know one day whilst you watched Yanqing partake in another much harder training with concerning growth in his abilities. Well, concerning to anyone but you two. "So... what exactly was your reason for doing this?" The older man hummed after a long moment of silence, his sly eyes glancing at you from the rim of his teacup, which you met with an amused smile of your own. It wasn't surprising that he caught on eventually.

"He... is deserving of it." The answer was short, criptic, perhaps not made for non-Aeon's to understand, and yet the general still tilted his head in a silent demand of elaboration. You couldn't help but chuckle at his confidence. "I've traversed amongst the people in search of someone worthy of growth, someone who can appreciate the cultivation needed to hone one's abilities for the good of others." "Is that why you made him a lover, Aeon of cultivation?" Ah, so that's what it was. You figured that he'd grow suspicious of your intentions, that small narrow of his eyes making you press your lips together and shake your head.

"No. My love for him is not relevant to my decision." "Then that's all I need to hear." There was another long pause, one filled with the both of you watching Yanqing fight against some cloud knights in the distance of the training grounds, whilst the sun was beginning to set. Whilst you were happy with your decision, you still couldn't help but begin to wonder what the blonde may be thinking of all of this. Or rather, what he'd think of you once he realizes what you were. You were afraid of his reaction.

"... Are you going to tell him?" You asked, making Jing Yuan hum in thought before shaking his head with a small grin. "No. I'll let him figure it out on his own." He simply said, and you felt the underlying bitterness in those indifferent words. Yanqing apparently smugly celebrated his glory over his own mentor for everyone to see and hear. It was no surprise that the man would use this as a teaching moment of the sort. Even if just to spite him.

"And besides... I'm glad you decided to be different than those that came before you." You gave the man a surprised look at the praise, yet couldn't thank him when the young lieutenant came running your way with a call of your name. You handed him a silken towel to distract from your aching heart, watching as he quickly wiped away the sweat on his forehead with a wide grin. "How did I do today? I did great, didn't I, Master?" "Indeed you have, Yanqing..." A knowing smirk rested on the man's face lazily before he took the opportunity to retire early for the day, leaving you and your lover alone. There was an akward, one-sided silence between the both of you, one that the usually dense blonde noticed immideatly. He paused his boasting to stare at your rather nervous expression that you tried to desperately hide behind a fan.

He had noticed that you've been acting out of character lately, your usual calm and rather talkative demeanor replaced with something more solemn and guilty. At first, he believed that you were simply feeling ill with the change of the weather on the Xianzhou... but lately, he was beginning to wonder if you were perhaps getting worried sick over his sudden change instead. He knew it was unnatural and that he should perhaps ask the Master Diviner to help him... but at the same time, he couldn't help but near selfishly want to stay this way in hopes of impressing you. He wanted to be strong for you. Someone you can speak of and boast about with pride. Yet when he saw the way you nervously averted your eyes after he asked you if you were okay, he determined that it wasn't worth the heartache you must've been experiencing.

That's what eventually led him to stand in front of an unimpressed Fu Xuan, as he spoke of his woes and odd newfound powers in hopes of finally getting to the bottom of this mystery. Her arms were crossed tightly, a brow raised, whilst she secretly questioned how a young boy like him could be this dense. They were standing in the generals office, said man idly resting in his grand chair with a content, smug look on his face that made the woman's temper just rise more. He definitely already knew what was going on. They both figured it out from the start, and yet the older man saw amusement in teaching the boy a lesson one way or another. Even if, in her opinion, at least, it was in nonsensical ways like these.

"- So, with all that said, I hereby humbly request for your help, lady Fu Xuan." The boy concluded with a nod of his head, making the woman deadpan harder before turning to give Jing Yuan a long, hard look. The disappointment and annoyance in her gaze were clear, yet the man chose to ignore it by coincidentally taking a sip of his tea with a smug smile. "... I must say, I'm starting to question many things about your leadership lately." "Hm? Sorry, I can't hear you from all the way over here." Sighing in exasperation, she looked at Yanqing again, who was now beginning to fidget a little nervously at their rather indifferent reactions to all of this.

"You're an Emanator of cultivation. That's all there is to it. I'm afraid there is nothing we can do to reverse it either, if that is your next request." "Huh?" "Don't tell me you're standing too far away to hear me as well, boy." Yanqing blinked once, then twice, before looking down at the calloused palms of his hands. Everything seemed to make sense to him in that moment, as he had heard of that rather new Aeon before and especially about what their abilities entailed... yet there was still one thing he couldn't make sense of. "... How did this happen? I don't ever recall meeting them."

Fu Xuan rubbed her temples in defeat. "Have you never once questioned your own lover's origins?" She asked, hoping it was enough to finally wake him up. And it seemed to be the case when the boy's eyes lit up in sudden realisation, his eyes widening in near disbelief. And yet, that also made sense. All of the signs, all of the little hints... that's the small detail he was missing all along! "I... Thank you, lady Fu Xuan, for your help! Now if you'll excuse me..." The two adults watched the blonde sprint out of the generals office, the silence deafening before it was filled with Jing Yuan's chuckling. Fu Xuan gave him an unimpressed glare.

"I'm unsure of how to interpret the grand lesson you so have bestowed on him this time." The man waved his hand dismissively, eyes turned down to the paperwork laying on his desk. "I just hope it will teach him not to boast anymore over something that he didn't achieve on his own." "So I assume you are still angered over him beating you in that duel?" "Ah how odd... it seems like I can't hear you once more, Fu Xuan..."

The ocean waves gently crashed against the stone wall under the pavillion you were sitting in, your lover uncharacteristically quiet as he sat opposite you in intense silence. His hand grasped onto yours reassuringly, trying to remind you that he wasn't angry despite him now clearly knowing who you were, or rather, what you were. You felt nervous, guilty, and perhaps even more scared now. Yet you were unable to look at him as your gaze simply followed the reflection of the moonlight that spread across the ocean surface in the distance. Your lips trembled as you spoke, voice small in a shaky whisper that made his gaze soften and melt even more.

"Are you... afraid of me now? Angry? Enraged?"

Yanqing shook his head, which made you finally look at him. "Not at all. If anything, I'm grateful for this gift you've given me, my dove." You tried to find a lie in his words, yet you couldn't even dare it. He was sincere, truthful. You hummed weakly, a small smile on your lips. "I see... that makes me glad to hear..." A comfortable silence filled the air again, this time one that made you relax and the stress you've been carrying around for a while now finally subside. You worried for nothing and were thankful that your judgment was right.

You chose well indeed.

Alrighttt... I'm not sure if this was good or not, but I really hope it was good enough for you, Anon!! And thank you again for your great request. I had fun writing this, even if I'm not too confident about it.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr #hsr yanqing #hsr Yanqing x reader #Yanqing x reader #Yanqing #honkai star rail yanqing

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biffhofosho · 10 months ago

Text

What's Wrong with Director Ortega? | Part One

Fandom: Monsta X

Genre: Smut, natch

Word Count: uh, 18k this part

Pairing: OT7 x OC

Synopsis: In the tallest tower in the city of Seoul, there is a corporate kingdom whose empire stretches around the world. It is ruled by seven vice chairmen, all of whom lord over their own little departmental fiefdoms. With so many different ruling styles, they don’t have much in common save for the one director they can’t live without. Unfortunately for Director Ortega, heavy is the head who wears that crown. Seven demanding bosses and no time for herself forces her to reconsider what she wants out of life, which may just be the thing to force the self-proclaimed Kings of Seoul to reconsider what they want from her…

The Vibe: Reverse harem, ultra-competitive, CEOs, rich and spoiled men, monstas at odds, professional-to-a-fault and overworked and overextended OC who finally decides it’s time to put herself first, you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone, harsh awakenings, noraebang, goldilocks implications, atypical biffhofosho ending :D

A/N: OH MY GOD THE EDITING TOOK ME SOOOO MUCH LONGER THAN I ANTICIPATED. First of all, I realized only on edit that the first part is 808974893759874 times longer than the other parts, but there's just so much that needed to be set up... Also, low key I had so much fun writing it. But it's FINE. I can post on this most holy of days! HAPPY FREEDOM DAY, BABY WONHO. THANK YOU FOR COMING HOME TO US.

Obviously inspired by What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim?, but reverse harem and smutty af. Also inspired by the business tycoon playboy Fatal Love photoshoot because holy fuck, did that bring me to my knees. Though I’ve been a mbb since 2016, Fatal Love was the first album I actually bought (because I’d finally figured out how to buy overseas by then lol), and when I opened version 3, this was the FIRST thing that got lodged in my mind. Like a popcorn kernel, it had to be worked out slowly, over time, but after months of watching cheesy, soapy Chinese minidramas, I got the swift kick in the butt to finish my CEO smutfest. Enjoy!

Special thank you shout-out to my love, @starlightfantasy, without whom this chapter wouldn't have been nearly so lively or authentic.

Cvr | 01 |

“As always, Director Ortega, impeccable work. You may go.”

“Very good, sir,” came her customary reply. “Don’t forget that you have dinner with Chairman Matsuda of Aeon tonight at the Phoenix. I have already prepared a gift and left it with Secretary Kwon. Be sure to take it when you leave today.”

“You won’t be joining?”

She lowered her eyes, her breath gathering in her chest. “No, sir. I will leave things in your capable hands.”

“You always join.”

“I know, sir, but not this time.”

“Chairman Matsuda expects it.”

“Don’t worry, sir. I’ve already cleared it with him.”

The vice chairman said nothing, simply twirled his pen between his fingers like a baton.

Finally, she gathered her notepad and stowed her pen behind her ear. She offered a polite bow at his dismissal, but just before she reached the door, she stopped.

She pulled herself up as tall as her petite frame could muster and turned back to the wide mahogany desk in front of the sweeping windows. Beyond the stiff-backed silhouette crowning the complementary stiff-backed desk chair unfurled a smoggy Seoul morning. Dirty clouds filtered the wan light throughout the corner office.

She wet her lips and swallowed. “Excuse me, Vice Chairman Son, but there is one more matter we have left to discuss…”

The corporate auditorium was packed full of employees from every department in the Xtra Mile conglomerate. The thrum of chatter draped overhead like a heavy tarp as coworkers filed into their seats and caught up with people they hadn’t seen since the last company in-service.

As the Purchasing Department filled their rows, they met the Human Resources Department halfway. Normally, the two sides had very little to do with one another, so this gave everyone an excuse to greet each other and gossip.

But just like that, the room fell perfectly silent as a stream of seven very handsome and undeniably powerful men strolled onto the stage at the head of the auditorium. Their figures were projected onto the large screen above their heads so that even those seated in the back could appreciate the clean lines of their expensive haircuts and their even more expensive suits. Each man occupied his own podium across the breadth of the stage, so far apart that it almost looked as though they couldn’t stand breathing the same bubble of air.

At the center of the stage, spotlighted and stone-faced, one of the tallest and broadest men loomed over the employees. Without so much as an attention-grabbing throat clear, he spoke.

“Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for your attendance today as well as everything you do to further the mission of the Xtra Mile Corporation.”

“Without you,” boomed an elegant and lively blonde-haired executive from halfway down the stage, “we wouldn’t be a Fortune 500 Global company.”

The room erupted in polite applause as smiles abounded.

The man in the middle’s jaw flexed slightly, and this time he did clear his throat before regaining control of the room. “Without further delay, let us commence this year’s Xtra Mile Company Vision Showcase. I’ll turn things over to our Chief Financial Officer, Vice Chairman Yoo…”

The man in the center turned to the shorter, black-haired executive on his right whose face, despite its prominent cheekbones, looked like it hadn’t seen a genuine smile in half a decade. Right away, Vice Chairman Yoo began his overview of their mission statements and goals while the audience jotted notes and nodded along, save for one row toward the back of the room.

“Who is that?” whispered a young purchaser with expressive eyebrows over starry pecan eyes. He gazed up at the stage where a woman with perfect posture and her own expensive power suit waited at the edge, looking as much like a high-end mannequin as a real person. The waves in her espresso bob curled sweetly around her small ears and accentuated a round face with dumpling cheeks. Dark fox eyes looked even more alert against her honey skin, and they didn’t miss a single silent cue from any of the vice chairmen as her stiletto heels prowled click-clack-click-clack along the back of the stage, setting up each and every transition without a word.

One of the nearby HR managers, an older man with a five o’clock shadow and a soft face, followed the young fellow’s eyes. “Ah, that one. She’s a sad case. A face that doesn’t age, legs that never stop moving, and eyes that won’t look at you unless you’re paying her.”

The young intern’s ears reddened. “A pro- pro- prostit—”

Another older man, this one a fellow purchaser, clamped a hand over the intern’s mouth and hissed, “Aigoo! Are you daft? Intern Wong, don’t finish that sentence if you don’t want to be tossed out on your ear!”

“Forgive him,” apologized one of the young ladies also on the Purchasing team, “he’s new.”

“And stupid if he thinks a major corporation keeps a company call-girl on payroll,” snapped the older purchaser with a flick to his intern’s ear.

The HR manager stifled a grin. “That is Director Ortega. She is one of the most revered employees at this company. If you ever have the occasion to work with her, you will understand why. She knows absolutely everything that goes on in every department better than any of the vice chairmen. Nothing escapes her notice, which is why she’s so heavily relied upon.”

“Which department is hers?” Intern Wong wondered.

“Which department isn’t,” laughed the HR manager. “Director Ortega has a hand in everything because she has to, especially considering to whom she reports, but her actual title is Director of Facilitation. She oversees all administration here, top to bottom, but more than that, for all intents and purposes, she oversees the vice chairmen.”

“Ah, yes!” said a satisfied voice as its owner swiveled to scope out the sunny panorama through his office window. “It turned out to be another fine day, Director Ortega. We should be out there exploring, not cooped up in here, don’t you agree?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Will you stay for lunch then? We can go out? I remember you liked that barbecue place in Jongno. Call Taeyong and have him bring the car around, and we’ll go somewhere with tables outside.”

“You know that I can’t, sir, even if I wanted to.”

“They’re always overriding my good ideas,” he grumbled.

“I’m sure it feels that way, sir. Still, being that we are on a tight schedule, I wonder if I can borrow a moment of your time,” she said hesitantly. “An urgent issue has come up, and I’m afraid it can’t wait any longer…”

---

“She has been here 14 years, longer than any of the men up on stage, longer than even I have,” continued the older company man. “The old Chairman himself hired her when he was on a business trip to the United States.”

“She’s American?”

“Yes, and half-Korean, actually. She speaks four languages as well, and, over the past couple years, she’s been learning two more.”

“She’s a wonder,” Intern Wong marveled.

“She would have to be to impress Chairman Choi. Director Ortega was the Chairman’s personal secretary for ten years before he retired and handed the company over to his seven grandsons.”

“Fourteen years seems like too long for such a young woman,” the fledgling purchaser mused, eyes still fixed to the director on stage.

The HR manager sniffed a laugh. “I told you she has a face that doesn’t age. She’s older than you think.”

“Much too sophisticated for a freshman like you,” teased Intern Wong’s female coworker. “Keep your head in your station.”

“This will be the only glimpse of her you get, young buck,” added the senior purchaser. “She rarely comes down to Purchasing, maybe a few times a year, and when she does, she speaks only with Director Kim Doyoung. I’ve never seen her in our office for more than five minutes.”

The woman smirked. “What Mr. Moon is trying to say, very politely I might add, is that she’s out of your league.”

“And more importantly,” the HR manager chimed in again, “off limits.”

“Employees date each other here,” the intern protested.

But Mr. Moon shook his head. “Yeah, but they don’t date Director Ortega, understand?”

“Aigoo… This is my least favorite time of day, you know that? All the fun ends and you leave, and I’m left with all the work.”

“You will be fine, sir, as always, but remember to please trust your secretary with any help you may need. Secretary Ahn tells me you haven’t been using her to her full potential these days.”

He sighed and chambered his chin on his hand as his smiled at her. “Why would I? All I ever need is you, Director Ortega.”

She cleared her throat softly. “About that, sir…”

“I didn’t even suggest anything, geez,” the intern pouted.

Mr. Moon stared at the young man knowingly. “I’ve seen that look in a lot of men’s eyes over the past decade. I say this as a friend: if you want to be promoted to purchaser full-time, Intern Wong, I suggest you look only on the Director with admiration.”

“I do,” the young man muttered and immediately steered the conversation somewhere gentler. “Director Ortega must know everything there is to know about this place if she’s been here that long and that high up.”

“Exactly!” agreed Mr. Moon. “She’s so important that all seven vice chairmen share her.”

The intern and a few other nearby newer employees leaned in, both interested and confused.

“Now, how can seven executives share one assistant?” wondered the female purchaser.

Mr. Moon looked on the rapt row of coworkers like a librarian leading a storytelling session. “Director Ortega is the only connection those men have beside a grandfather.”

“They’re really related?” Intern Wong asked.

The older man nodded. “Brothers, half-brothers or cousins, right, Manager Cho?”

The HR manager shrugged his mouth sternly. “No one resents that fact more than they do. Were it not for Director Ortega, they’d have nothing to do with each other. You’d think they live on seven different continents if they didn’t share one atrium on the 28th floor.”

Intern Wong’s brow furrowed. “But how exactly does one woman bridge all those continents daily?”

“Every day,” Mr. Moon explained, “the Director spends one hour with each vice chairman, and when his hour is up, she moves on down the hall.”

“Are you serious?” blurted the female purchaser.

“I am.”

“Don’t they each have their own secretary?” asked the intern. “I’m sure they have way too much work for one hour.”

This time, a middle-aged manager from Employee Relations further down the row answered, “Of course! But Director Ortega is in charge of all of their executive assistants, too. The last hour of her day is spent with them, ensuring the day’s work is properly circulated and delegated. Still, she is the only one the vice chairmen trust with their most important business matters, and she’s the only assistant they will bring with them to important meetings. Needless to say, she’s part orchestra conductor. She must follow this rigorous schedule each day to keep the vice chairmen satisfied, which is even more challenging considering how much each of them likes to demand from her.”

“I thought you were leaving,” he said.

“In a moment,” she replied.

She placed a thermos at the edge of his desk and bowed.

Incisive eyes jolted to the container as he finally looked up from his crowded blotter. “What is it?”

“Coffee, sir. Don’t stay too late tonight though. The merger with Aeon should conclude next week, and I know you’ll want fresh eyes before you final review everything of the numbers.”

A finger of black hair stubbornly broke from his clean-combed hairline and dangled in front of his sharp eyes as he switched from appraising the thermos to appraising the woman on the other side of his desk. “I should say the same to you, Director Ortega.”

She smiled as she lowered her chin. “Ah, well, to that end, I think it’s time to break old habits, sir. Before I do, I have something to confess…”

“Doesn’t leave a lot of time to herself,” mused the older purchaser as he considered the woman’s words.

Intern Wong cocked his head as he considered this new information. “But isn’t it a good thing to be so in demand at your company?”

“Aish,” chimed in an older lady on the other side of the group of busybodies, this one from the Accounting department who wore a thick pair of glasses to match her role, “it would be if you’re not a woman. Director Ortega is 38 and, as far as anybody has heard, never dated.”

“There’s no way a woman like her hasn’t dated!” the intern protested as his eyes returned to the serious beauty on stage.

“Even if she wanted to,” continued the accountant, “she would have to turn down any suitor. The vice chairmen keep her way too busy to even think about dating someone.”

“You don’t know that, Miss Lee,” said the employee relations manager.

“The hell I don’t, Manager Kwon,” the accountant scoffed, causing a few other uninterested coworkers to pivot toward them before everyone whispered apologies except the accountant. At least, she bothered to lower her voice enough that the rest of the row leaned in. “I process Director Ortega’s overtime. I’m telling you, there’s no way that woman has a life outside of this company or those seven men. It’s downright outrageous. They should be ashamed.”

“I told you,” said Manager Cho, “she’s a sad case. I heard Director Ortega had to fly back from her sister’s wedding in Mexico because Vice Chairman Chae needed a translator, and she’s the only one he trusts to give him an unbiased translation.”

“That’s too harsh,” objected Intern Wong.

Miss Lee hung her head. “Director Ortega will never find a match. Ah! It’s too sad to see a woman of her caliber give up her whole life like that.”

“I’ll leave the initial scouting reports in your inbox for your review, sir. After you’ve made your notes, please trust Secretary Lee with their transcription.”

“Could you stay a few extra minutes to finish that? Only you know how I like things organized.”

“Secretary Lee is more than capable if you just explain your preferences to him, sir. Forgive me, but he should know that after a full year.”

The vice chairman huffed, his broad shoulders slumping, too. “Yes, of course, but he isn’t— Of course, Director Ortega. You are correct.”

“I will sit with him tomorrow and show him personally, sir, so there is no confusion.”

“That’s not necessary!” He reached toward the director across the desk but pulled his hand back quickly. “I should handle it myself.”

“I am happy to hear it, sir. On that note…”

“But isn’t there something admirable about that?” Intern Wong mused as he looked up at the dark-haired director waiting at the edge of the stage, hands folded in front of her hips. “To be so loyal and dedicated to your company that you are trusted by everyone?”

A big-eyed girl in front of them whirled around in her seat and clamped her hands over the back of it to stare at the group. With wide eyes full of shock instead of innocence, she said, “I can’t believe none of you know.”

“Know?”

“Know what!”

“Tell us instantly, Secretary Heo!” urged Manager Kwon, and the whole row shifted forward.

The secretary puckered her thin lips and lowered her voice to a whisper just loud enough to catch over the drone through the sound system of Vice Chairman Im’s speech on streamlining database growth.

“Director Ortega handed in her resignation yesterday.”

“Sir, please don’t make that face,” she said.

Yet the vice chairman sat there with his cheeks in his hands, his bottom lip jutting out. “What do you expect me to do? I hate knowing where you’re headed next.”

“I do this every day, sir,” she reminded.

“And I hate it every day. He always gets more of your time than we do.”

“You know that isn’t true, sir.”

“It is!” he complained. “Wouldn’t it be so nice to have one desk in one office and report to only one person?”

She closed her eyes and steadied her breath. “I think I may have a solution to this problem. If I may have one more moment please…”

“Impossible,” Mr. Moon scoffed. “She’s been here fourteen years!”

“Don’t talk nonsense,” scolded the female purchaser.

“I’m not,” insisted Secretary Heo. “Secretary Ahn told me yesterday at lunch. She’s Vice Chairman Lee Minhyuk’s personal secretary. If anybody would know, it would be her. She’s not a gossip.”

“Like you,” retorted the accountant.

“Game recognizes game, Miss Lee, but in this case, it’s just fact. We all need to be prepared for the trickle-down. Even if we don’t work personally with the vice chairmen, without Director Ortega as our shield, we’re sure to feel the brunt of things.”

“Now that you mention it, look how dull the vice chairmen look,” said the other young woman as she stared sadly at the stage where the tallest vice chairman now spoke. Her eyes darted down to the straw-haired executive at the far end, and she shook her head. “Even Vice Chairman Lee Jooheon looks flat. He never looks so flat! Oh, this is terrible. I love his smiles.”

Intern Wong elbowed his coworker and retorted, “Keep your head in your station, Miss Kim.”

She rolled her eyes though the bespectacled accountant nodded. “And Vice Chairman Lee Hoseok looks much smaller than usual, don’t you think? Normally, you can see his shoulders from space.”

“I’m telling you,” reiterated Secretary Heo, “Director Ortega put in a month’s notice. She’s definitely leaving.”

“Have you heard this?” asked Mr. Moon to Miss Lee. “You process her overtime, you said.”

The older woman shook her head. “I’m not in HR. Isn’t that your department, Manager Cho?”

Everyone glanced down the row to the HR manager who had grown progressively quieter. “It is, but I don’t work in Executive Resources. But…”

Everyone leaned toward him like plants straining for sunlight.

“It is possible,” Manager Cho said guardedly. “I can’t outright refute it.”

Jaws dropped right and left, and a few hands fell over hearts.

“Why would she resign now?” asked Intern Wong when no one picked up the conversation.

“Is she not being compensated well enough?” asked Miss Kim.

“I have worked here through Chairman Choi’s reign, and I can tell you for a fact that her salary would make you blush, especially when she works for holiday pay. Plus, I have heard from Director Jeong that Director Ortega receives a bonus from each Vice Chairman at Seollal,” Miss Lee said vehemently. “No, no. But money matters less when you have no time to spend it and no one to spend it on. I told you. Director Ortega is 38. Aish, she must have realized that if she wants to marry and have a family, she has a very small window left.”

“Hwaiting, sunbaenim!” Miss Kim said a little too loudly, and a few more rows turned back toward them.

“No, that’s not it,” persisted Secretary Heo. “Secretary Ahn said Director Ortega already has a man, and she’s quitting to marry him.”

“Is there anything else, sir?” she said, head cocked to the side.

“There is not.”

The usual silence filled the space between them. After several years, at least it was no longer startling.

“If you’re sure, sir.”

She bowed, and also as usual, he blurted, “One final thing, Director Ortega.”

“Yes, sir. Of course.”

“I need five extra minutes of your time today.”

“I’m sorry, but not today, sir.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You never say that.”

“I know,” she agreed. “It turns out that’s because I need a minute of your time instead…”

The older employees broke into quiet laughter.

“There is zero chance of that,” Miss Lee assured.

“If you knew her workload…” agreed Mr. Moon.

Secretary Heo scowled and jabbed a finger at the seniors. “Secretary Ahn was sure.”

“I don’t buy it,” asserted Miss Lee. “Look, there’s no ring!”

All eyes turned to the jumbo screen, to the bare, slender fingers of the director.

One of the other purchasers whisper-shouted from farther down the row, “Do you think they’ll post for her position internally first?”

“How can you be so insensitive, Assistant Lee Yubin!” chastised Miss Kim. “The vice chairmen look miserable. They’d never fill her role with such a vulture.”

The assistant rolled her sleepy-looking eyes as she informed, “You don’t get to that position without being an opportunist.”

“No one’s asking the most important question,” interjected Intern Wong, his bright puppy eyes still fixed on the glowing silhouette of the director. “If she’s no longer going to be an employee—and she’s not engaged—do you think she’s on the market?”

Both Manager Cho and Mr. Moon sighed and exchanged hopeless glances, but now, a few more men down the line swiveled from the intern up toward the stage. The whole group grew silent as Vice Chairman Lee Minhyuk took over on the mic, but nobody was really listening to his outline of new product roll-outs for the upcoming quarter. They were mounting strategies of their very own.

“Why are we meeting here?” a surly Jooheon griped as he plopped down onto a couch in the center of the round atrium that connected all seven vice chairmen's offices. “Shouldn't we go somewhere more private?”

“This is easier,” Jackson replied as he took a seat into an armchair across from his friend. The president was known for looking as cool as his voice sounded, so when he cocked his head and crossed his legs, he looked more a boss than the vice chairman. “How are you doing?”

Jooheon hissed and launched forward, though he managed to stay seated. “How am I doing? I’m upside down, man! I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?”

“I don’t—” The vice chairman ran his hands through his hair and rolled his neck. After a steadying breath, he said, “I don’t understand why she’d leave?”

“Director Ortega?”

“Of course, Director Ortega. Who the hell else did you think I brought you here to talk about?”

Jackson raised an eyebrow. “Well, I don’t know what you want me to do about it. You guys wouldn’t let me near her.”

“You can’t be trusted.”

“A fine thing to say to your President of Operations,” Jackson laughed, and it was clear he didn’t take an ounce of the vice chairman’s insults seriously.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

The president kept laughing and nodded. “I do.”

“But I have always trusted your vision. You see bigger pictures than I do. Since we were teenagers, you’ve always been a barometer of the people, and at least I trust your insights,” Jooheon began as professionally as he could sitting in front of one of his best friends. “Plus, you’re a busybody.”

“I’ve been accused of worse,” the president said with a grin.

“I know. I was the one who accused you.”

Jackson shrugged. “So, what do you need?”

“What have you heard about Director Ortega’s threat of quitting?”

“Is it a threat?” the president asked with a brow raise. “Because it sounded pretty damn certain to this busybody’s ears.”

“Don’t get coy, Jackson. I’m not in the mood.”

The grin dropped from the president’s face, and he leaned across the coffee table. “Everyone’s talking about it, of course. Rumors abound. Some say she’s getting married.”

Jooheon scowled and shook his head.

“Some say she’s pregnant.”

This time, the vice chairman gasped, unable to feign his usual confidence.

“But most people are saying she’s dating or wants to date, so she wants to make more time to do those other things.”

“That’s stupid,” Jooheon fired off. “Director Ortega has plenty of time to do that now. She could be married already if she wanted to be, but she’s not.”

Jackson just glowered at his friend.

“Fine,” Jooheon conceded, “we keep her pretty busy, but it’s never bothered her before.”

“Are you sure? Did you ever ask?”

“Why would I ask that!” the vice chairman shouted indignantly. “It’s not workplace appropriate.”

“Then it sounds to me like you’re talking out of your ass,” and a beat later, Jackson added cheekily, “sir.”

Jooheon studied his fingernails as he asked carefully, “So… which one did she say it is?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think anyone does for sure. Director Ortega is the most professional person in this whole damn company. You lot should know best. What did she say when she resigned?”

“She didn’t resign,” Jooheon said tersely. “She just threatened to.”

“Oh, is that what ‘Please accept my letter of resignation’ means?”

The vice chairman sighed. “Why the hell did I put any faith in you.”

“C’mon, man, I’m ribbing you. The truth is I think you know everything, but you just don’t want to acknowledge it. What did she say exactly? Not what did Vice Chairman Lee Jooheon hear?”

The straw-haired man sank back into the couch, his hands spread across the cushions as he stared up through the glass ceiling to the obnoxiously blue sky above. “She said, ‘After fourteen wonderful years at Xtra Mile, I have decided I need to step back from my position as Director of Facilitation and spend some time on myself. I know this may be rather surprising, but it's something I’ve been considering for a while. It has been an absolute pleasure working for you…’

“From there, pretty much all I heard was static. I was too in shock.”

Jackson hummed. “Doesn’t give me a ton to work with. What did her resignation letter say?”

“Don’t know. Didn’t read it yet.”

At this, Jackson let out a groan. “You didn’t read it? What the hell kind of boss are you?”

“A blindsided one! What do you expect me to do after the rug was pulled out from under me?”

“Man up and fix it. I figured Xtra Mile’s Chief Marketing Officer would already be mounting a campaign to court back his most valuable employee. Instead, you’re whining in your ivory tower.”

“How am I supposed to do that when I don’t even understand why she’s leaving me?”

“Read the damn letter, man,” Jackson scolded. “Maybe it’s as simple as she took another job.”

“You think?” the dimpled vice chairman asked eagerly.

“No, unless she sparing your feelings.”

“This is all their fault,” Jooheon griped, only too happy to shift the blame. He waved his arm around the atrium at the six other mahogany office doors. “They're driving her away. She's always happy when she's with me.”

“Is that what you really think?”

The vice chairman narrowed his eyes at his president. “Obviously.”

“Just remember I've known you long before you were a head honcho…” Jackson said ominously. He braced his elbows on his knees and leaned across the coffee table. His hand rose, middle finger tucked beneath his thumb, and swiftly and unexpectedly, he flicked the forehead of his friend.

Jooheon yelped and cursed as he bounced in his seat. When he dropped a hand to point angrily at the man across from him, a big red mark lingered like a bullseye in the center of his forehead. “You're fired!”

“Fine, fine, I’ll clean out my desk tomorrow,” the president said without an ounce of concern. “But did I knock some sense into you?”

“You pissed me off is what you did.”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “I think you’re better off worrying about that mammoth bruise to your ego than a little welt on your forehead. The second Aeon gets wind of her leaving, they’re going to wonder about the merger.”

Though he was still babying the bump on his head, Jooheon shook it. “Director Ortega said she’d build in more than the month in case things run long with Aeon. She doesn’t want to jeopardize the project.”

“Leave it to a woman of her caliber to be acutely aware of that. She’s been in all of the merger meetings, hasn’t she?”

“She personally brought Chaiman Matsuda on board. Yeah, the Aeon merger is probably more her baby than any of ours.”

“Good. That’s good then.”

“Why?” Jooheon asked.

Jackson shrugged a shoulder. “It means she’s not running off to elope at least.”

“Elope!” At this, the vice chairman finally leapt back up.

“Calm down. I said she’s not eloping. Probably also means there’s no fiancé either yet.”

“Yet?” Jooheon deflated completely back down to the couch.

Again, the president shrugged. “I’m just puzzling out the fifty different rumors I heard today. Seems like those are the least likely now that I know more.”

“Terrific…”

“But now that I know what she said when she resigned, I think the most likely theory is that you all have zapped her personal life completely. Sucked her dry like a swarm of mosquitos.”

Jooheon sighed. “You really like to rub salt in a wound, man.”

“Hey, I call ‘em like I see ‘em. Unless she’s already married? Maybe she’s leaving to spend more time with her husband. Work on building a family.”

“She doesn’t have a husband,” the vice chairman snapped.

Jackson let out a chuckle. “I imagine you seven have seen to that, huh? Thought you were all the men she needed, I’ll bet. Guess today was your wake-up.”

“Is she dating?” Jooheon’s voice creeped up uncomfortably high, and he cleared his throat to correct it.

“How should I know? You barely let me talk to the woman. You keep her locked up like Rapunzel with you and your dysfunctional family.”

The vice chairman narrowed his already narrow eyes. “That smacks of bitterness.”

“Maybe it is. She’s a beautiful woman, and I’m a good-looking guy.”

Jooehon unleashed a wicked snarl at the corner of his lips. “You’re not just a busybody but a playboy, Jackson. I was right to keep her away from you.”

It was Jackson’s turn to narrow his eyes. “I knew it.”

Jooheon waved a hand dismissively. “I don’t need you distracting my executive team.”

“I didn’t hear you balk when I asked out Secretary Guk, and she’s at your full disposal all day, every day.”

At this, the vice chairman grumbled, “Well, you just said it. I can call on her whenever I need her. I only get an hour with Director Ortega. I can’t have her distracted for a minute of it.”

“Don’t you think that’s part of her reasoning, Honey?” Jackson said, testing the boundaries of their decades-long friendship. “Every second of her day is monopolized by a tycoon. How do you expect her to just be a woman?”

“If you’re saying this just to make a window for yourself to her, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Look, man, it doesn’t even matter at this point. Her dance card is already so long, I’d need to take a number.”

“What do you mean?”

Jackson pursed his lips. “Exactly what I said. As soon as news of her resignation trickled down all 28 floors, guys were brushing up their marriageable resumes and dating profiles.”

“She’s not a sweepstakes,” Jooheon barked. “You don’t just try your chance to get lucky.”

“Hey, I agree with you, but you don’t speak for the vast majority of guys. Everyone has always assumed she’s unmarried, but no one’s risked courting her for fear of their careers. But if she doesn’t work for you anymore—”

Jooheon growled. “That doesn’t matter. They’re still risking their careers.”

Jackson leaned back in his chair, mouth screwed up to one side and eyebrow popped.

“For your own good, Honey, I really think you should ask yourself why that is.” A little louder, he proclaimed, “You all should.”

Almost as if scripted, six silhouettes stepped out of the shadows of six separate doorways.

Jackson swept his hand in a circle and smiled smugly at his friend. “See? Told you this was easier. Now I don't have to repeat myself six more times.”

“Jackson,” said a burly platinum blonde in a three-piece suit so tightly tailored that it looked more like an American football uniform, “do you really think Director Ortega will be that much of a target?”

Jackson scoffed that faded into a wry smile. “She's gorgeous, driven, charming, whip-smart, and well-off. A woman like Director Ortega is in a class of her own. Yes, Hoseok, she’s a catch. The only people who are going to care she's 38 are the ones she would have never entertained anyway. Hell, just between the horn dogs and the sugar babies, she's going to have her plate full, never mind her long-term secret admirers. You'll see. You won't even have to wait a day, I promise.”

“I don’t love that,” Minhyuk said as he took a chair beside the president.

“Yeah, but what are any of you going to do about it?”

The seven vice chairmen traded appraisals, but none spoke.

Jackson chuckled. “Can’t see the forest for the trees… Director Ortega really has been carrying all of you.”

“Watch it,” Jooheon growled, yet his subordinate waved him off.

“Since you’re all in one room for a change, let me pose a question that’s been eating at the back of my mind for years. I may never get another chance to ask it in case one of you actually decides to fire me after half a decade of playful threats, but why do each of you insist on sharing one assistant when you can have as many as you want?”

This time, none of the vice chairmen risked a glance at each other. Instead, they thumbed their ten-thousand-dollar watches or fiddled with the cuffs of their bespoke suits.

Sharp-jawed and sharp-tongued, Kihyun jutted his chin out as his neck twitched. He sucked in a breath through his teeth as he answered evenly, “Director Ortega is an invaluable—”

“Director Ortega is indeed invaluable,” Jackson interrupted. “No one would dare challenge that for fear of their life. But that doesn’t really answer my question, and you know it. As formidable an assistant as she is, you’re each only capable of utilizing her skill set for a maximum of an eighth of her day. Now, imagine, if you will, how much work you could accomplish if you each trusted one other person as much as you trust her. Don’t all of you have your own secretaries as it is? You can’t rely on them to mastermind your days? Or…”

The way the president said the word had seven sets of eyes snapping to him. Jackson’s handsome face hovered just on the professional side of a smirk.

“…is it that you just don’t want to?”

“Get to the point, President Wang,” snapped the most restless of the chairmen, Minhyuk.

Jackson’s palms turned up. “That is the point. This company is full of fresh young upstarts looking to make a name for themselves. They’re all more than eager to work overtime and make an impression, yet you all continuously come back to your Director.”

“Exactly,” Jooheon said as if it proved some other point, but judging from the smile creeping onto the president’s face, it may not have worked as intended.

“Exactly.” Jackson hummed as he tapped his smart watch screen and checked the time. “You know, I’ve been accused of playing with words before—”

“You’re a regular Loki,” Kihyun corrected.

“Mm, maybe. Or maybe it’s to provoke a thought. It’s served me well closing deals for you all these years. Word choice is everything. Say the right word, and you plant a seed, and the next thing you know? Boom! We’ve got a seven-figure sale. The customer thinks it’s all their idea—always has been. They leave feeling clever, and I leave knowing I’ve orchestrated one hell of a victory for the company.”

“Just say it, Jackson,” mumbled the feline-eyed youngest chairman, Changkyun, from his lean in his door frame.

The president waggled his fingers like the conductor he described, and a chill descended upon the room.

“I just did. Consider my words carefully. I don’t use them lightly.”

Jooheon rolled his eyes. “Yes, you do.”

With a sigh, Jackson raised both brows. “Fine. I’ll be blunter then. If there ever was a thing to unite the seven kingdoms under one banner, I think the whole of Xtra Mile would place their bets on the same banner. Maybe losing Director Ortega is the kick in the pants you all need.”

“Watch it,” Kihyun warned.

Jackson shrugged. “You asked what I thought—”

“We didn’t,” said the tallest, Hyungwon.

“He did,” finished Minhyuk with a glance at Jooheon.

“What a family you are,” Jackson laughed. “I honestly can't tell who among you is delusional, who's in denial, and who's been harboring secrets they've been way too afraid to voice.”

The seven other men exchanged wary scrutiny while the president rose and knocked the wrinkles from his slacks. “Well, look, you've got a month to figure it out, probably way less if I'm honest. The way I see it? You better speak now or forever hold your peace. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I've got a brush up my dating profile.”

With that, Jackson bowed to his bosses and walked out of the chairman’s wing with one insufferable hand in his pocket and one even more insufferable hand waving over his shoulder.

“Remind me to fire him,” huffed Minhyuk.

“Not before I clobber him,” growled Jooheon.

But without Jackson there to stir the pot, it left the seven vice chairmen staring at their feet or the wall. For all the silence, it felt very loud, and it was no surprise to anyone that the first to speak again was Minhyuk.

“What are we going to do?”

Hoseok laughed bitterly. “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard us use the word ‘we’.”

A few of the men hummed as the truth of that statement hit.

“Do you think Jackson’s right?” said Changkyun hesitantly. “Do you think she’s leaving because of us?”

Hyunwoo stacked his arms across his thick chest and nodded, eyes fixed on a scuff on the marble floors. “I read her resignation letter. I don’t see how it could be anything else.”

“I read it, too,” interjected Hoseok, “but she said it was about her, right?”

This time, it was Hyungwon who sighed. “Isn’t that the thing you say to spare the other’s feelings during a breakup? ‘It’s not you, it’s me’?”

More silence, this one infinitely darker and deeper.

“So it is us…” conceded Minhyuk.

“Looks that way,” said Hyunwoo.

“I still don’t get it,” Jooheon said. “I’m a great boss. I’m not the one who made her miss her sister’s wedding.”

Hyungwon narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t make her do that. She chose to come back.”

Kihyun tilted his head as he squared off with his half-brother. "Everybody here knows that you’re passive aggressive if you don’t get your way. ‘Kihyun, are you sure you want to use the gochujang? The recipe calls for doenjang. Don’t mind me, I’m just getting a pitcher of water for the table.’”

“What are you talking about? Passive aggression is your MO,” Hyungwon retorted. “And being hyper-critical.”

“You both are,” Changkyun groaned.

“Yeah, well, I’m not,” swore Jooheon. “I praise her work every day. I ask her about her day.”

Minhyuk let out a puff of air. “Yeah, to see if you can steal some of her time from the rest of us. No one’s more of a gatekeeper than you, Jooheon."

"Am not."

“Are too. You throw a fit if anyone asks for five more minutes of her time, and if they do, you demand a makeup the next day.”

“Enough,” Hyunwoo said brusquely.

“We can’t let her resign,” Hoseok agreed.

“Obviously,” Jooheon snapped.

“Can we just refuse her resignation?” asked Minhyuk.

Changkyun shook his head. “I would never test Director Ortega’s commitment. She’ll just quit on the spot, and then where will we be.”

As brains churned, tensions mounted. It was always tense when the seven men gathered together, but for once, desperation was something all seven shared, and instead of retreating to their offices, they remained at their posts—far enough away to still make boundaries clear yet approachable.

“We should apologize,” Hyungwon volunteered.

“If apologies made a difference, would we be where we are?” challenged Kihyun.

“Well, they can’t fucking hurt.”

“It’s a starting point,” Hyunwoo asserted, “which is more than we had a minute ago.”

“What if we switch up her schedule?” Changkyun suggested. “Routine can be crushing.”

Hoseok nodded. “And she could use more vacation.”

“We can throw more money at her,” Kihyun added.

A moment passed. Hyunwoo typed something into his phone. In the gathering silence, Minhyuk and Jooheon rattled the vase in the center of the coffee table with their opposing jackhammering legs.

“What, no snide remarks? No backhanded critiques from any of you?” Kihyun said with a pointed gaze finally landing on Hyungwon.

But the tall man simply scoffed as he pushed up from his lean against the wall and moved toward his office door. “Who has time for that? You heard what Jackson said. We don’t even have a month to undo our screw-up.”

“We run a sixty-billion-dollar company,” said Minhyuk. “There’s no reason we can’t strategize a way to undo our biggest ever loss.”

“Let’s just throw everything at her tomorrow and see what sticks,” Hyungwon suggested.

“Not much of a strategy,” Minhyuk observed.

“I don’t care as long as it keeps her here with us.”

“What do you say, Hyunwoo?” asked Changkyun.

The resident senior raised both eyebrows when he discovered six sets of eyes looking at him simultaneously. “You’re asking for my opinion?”

“Yeah,” Jooheon agreed.

“I’ll get some breakfast tomorrow and think on it.”

The other six sets of eyes switched between rolls and furrows, between disheartened and annoyed, but the vice chairmen settled on meeting again in the morning—after their COO had a full belly.

Just before Hoseok could enter the cafeteria, something caught the corner of his eye, and when he turned, he found his cousin, Hyunwoo, lurking like a houseplant behind a banner announcing the upcoming Xtra Mile company picnic.

“What the hell are you doing?” asked the Chief Security Officer.

“Eating,” answered Hyunwoo.

Hoseok popped an eyebrow. “In a corner? Behind a sign?”

“Evidently, our employees are very surprised to see me. It was too much attention eating at a table.”

“You’re the COO. Attention comes with the title.”

“I don’t need it right now,” the older man replied evenly.

Hoseok had both brows raised now as he took in the rigid figure of the COO who was usually considered the face of the company, yet here Hyunwoo was, literally lurking, eyes staring blankly across the early morning company cafeteria.

Slowly, the COO shifted his attention to his cousin. His face remained as placid as ever, though his tone deepened as he asked, “What are you doing here, Hoseok?”

“I protein up here every day after my workout.”

“You’re later than usual,” Hyunwoo observed.

“How would you know? I’ve never seen you here.” At this, his cousin turned to look at him and Hoseok sniffed. “What? I can't keep track of your schedule too?”

“Hey! I was here first!”

The vice chairmen looked at each other before they realized neither of them had said it. Instead, there were three suited men clustered at the other side of the dining hall with scowls and furrowed brows. They jostled shoulder-to-shoulder as a few other employees tightened around the action.

It was clear there was a line forming, and evidently, somebody had cut it, but it wasn’t for the register.

Director Ortega sat at a table clotted with flowers and gifts and cards as men and women alike waited for their turn to speak with a figure more mythical than a phoenix.

Hoseok soured, first at the sight of the long line but further when he looked back at the burly man hovering behind the signage. “You're not here to eat. You're here to observe the Director.”

The COO presented a sandwich and took a bite, and through a mouthful, he said, “I can do both.”

With a sigh, Hoseok shoved the other vice chairman over and hunkered beside him, eyes peeking around the banner.

Director Ortega greeted each of her admirers warmly but professionally, with the same gentle but sincere office smile they’d seen every day for four years. She accepted all the cards, rejected most of the presents, and divvied up the flowers with the other ladies hovering nearby. One overzealous fellow waited in her orbit, phone out, hoping to get her Kakaotalk information, though she was steadfast that she’d had enough networking to last her a lifetime.

Hoseok puckered his lips, but just before the CSO could escort the insistent prick from the building, Hyunwoo clamped a hand on his shoulder. He looked at the meaty paw and then to its owner and back again.

“She’s got it,” Hyunwoo assured.

Hoseok shrugged his shoulder and the hand fell away. “How did you know she would be here?”

“Director Ortega often brings me a sandwich from here in the morning.”

“You make her bring you breakfast?” Hoseok said sternly.

“I don't make her do anything. She just does it.”

“She doesn't bring me anything,” his cousin pouted.

Hyunwoo didn't respond. He just took another massive bite and kept his eyes on the director.

“Seems like everyone is excited for her to leave,” observed the platinum blonde, but Hyunwoo shook his head.

“Before it got so noisy, I could hear better. I think it’s more that they’re proud of her.”

“For leaving us?” Hoseok exclaimed, and his cousin silenced him with a grave scowl. Quieter now, the CSO continued, “We need to tell the others. I’m not sure our plan of attack will be effective if she’s being showered with gifts to quit.”

This time, at least, his cousin nodded. Hyunwoo stuffed his mouth with another bite.

They lingered until the clock neared the company start time, when the last person in line finally made it to the director’s table. She was standing now, mulling over how to cart a table full of unexpected gifts elsewhere, as the young, black-haired prince with a white smile offered to help.

“Why is she smiling so much?” Hoseok said. “Is she—is she laughing?”

Hyunwoo narrowed his already thin eyes.

“Did she just give him her business card?” the younger chairman gawked.

Director Ortega bowed and thanked the young man as he helped gather her offerings into a box he’d somehow manufactured out of thin air.

Hyunwoo chucked the last bite of his sandwich in the garbage, and it made Hoseok jump.

The blonde started, “You never waste—”

“Time to go, Hoseok,” said the COO, and his cousin jumped again. “We need to talk to the others immediately.”

No sooner had the pair made it up the chairmen’s elevator to their floor than they caught some of their secretaries gabbing in the atrium.

“—vowed to get Maria plastered tonight—oh my god, sirs!”

Secretary Ahn spluttered the instant she saw the two chairmen enter the atrium. Immediately, her mouth shut, and she bowed her head. Secretary Guk was less respectful and more deer-in-headlights, with her round eyes fully white and her small mouth popped open round as a bottle cap.

“Hello, sirs,” Secretary Ahn added and then elbowed her coworker until the other woman managed the same greeting. Neither of the men said anything, so she asked, “Is everything all right, Vice Chairman Son?”

“Why wouldn't it be?” he returned flatly.

Secretary Ahn’s eyes darted to the other vice chairman and then back to him and then back to the other vice chairman again as though he should understand the singularity of the moment of the two men side-by-side.

“Is there a meeting we don't know about, sirs?” she said gingerly.

“I should ask you the same.”

Both women paled until they were nearly transparent. They looked at each other again, but this time, Secretary Ahn couldn’t seem to find her polite words, which left Secretary Guk scrambling to pick up the slack.

“Oh, not at all! We were just discussing Director Ortega's going away party tonight.”

Secretary Ahn elbowed her coworker again, this time nearly hard enough to knock the other woman out of her kitten heels.

“Her going away party?” repeated Hyunwoo. “I was unaware that she’s going anywhere.”

Secretary Guk outright shivered, and when she spoke again, her voice was shaking, too. “The secretaries organized it, but… But it would mean so much if all of the vice chairmen could join us.”

The other secretary looked frantically at her, but there was nothing to be done.

“It’s just dinner, drinks, and noraebang after work, but the more, the merrier.”

Hoseok glanced up at his cousin with urgent eyes and whispered, “President Wang said we should show sincerity. This is the perfect way.”

Again, the secretaries exchanged looks, which only amplified when Vice Chairman Son said, “Secretary Guk, please email the time and place to all the vice chairmen as soon as you can.”

“Yes, sir.”

The secretaries bowed to the vice chairmen as they headed toward their respective offices, and when Secretary Ahn rose, she scowled and slapped her friend on the arm. “Maria is going to kill you!”

“Please,” said Secretary Guk as she sat down in front of her keyboard and began to type. “The vice chairmen will never show up. When have they ever showed up for anything, let alone together? Maria’s ready to leave Xtra Mile, but I’m not. What was I supposed to do?”

“Just keep your mouth shut,” her coworker hissed.

“It’s fine. You’ll see. Maria will agree with me.”

“Aigoo, Aera!” Secretary Ahn growled as she tapped her coworker on her arm again. “Have you learned nothing? Keep your mouth shut.”

“No way. You think I want Maria grinding me to a pulp?”

“Look, you said yourself they’ll never show anyway, so why say anything? We’ve worked so hard to organize this thing. I’m not going to be the one to tell everyone it’s off when she invariably cancels it. You are.”

“I didn’t think about that…”

Secretary Ahn rolled her eyes. “Of course you didn’t. You’re not the one who’d clean up the mess.”

“Okay, but if something does go wrong—”

But Secretary Guk didn’t get to finish that thought before the work day officially started and the phones began to ring.

“Oh my god, I didn’t know Maria was capable of getting tipsy, but wow,” laughed Secretary Kwon. “She is gone.”

“Yeah,” agreed Secretary Guk, “color me shocked. I always figured her for the straight life.”

Secretary Kim rolled her eyes. “All these years at seven typhoons’ beck and call will force sobriety on you. I have a hard enough time convincing myself I can have a drink on the weekend. Can’t imagine what Maria’s dry spell’s been like. She must be making up for lost time.”

The women traded laughs and then another round of shots as Director Ortega scream-shouted her noraebang lines into the microphone and they had to hurry to cover their ears.

"Holy. Shit."

It wasn’t just the sudden appearance of the English curse or that it came from the Secretary Lee in his overly dramatic alto that made all the other secretaries pivot sharply. It was the way everything else fell silent except a drunken Maria caterwauling to George Michael’s “Freedom” on stage.

“They actually showed up,” Secretary Ahn gasped.

“Who?” said Secretary Kim.

“Who do you think?”

“What!” exclaimed Secretary Guk. “Which ones?”

“Uh…” Vice Chairman Yoo’s secretary, Song Jiyoo, squinted into the foggy shadows at the entryway as more silhouettes parted the club haze. “Oh my god, it looks like all of them.”

“No way,” said Secretary Kwon. “You're plastered, One. You have to be.”

“I am not. Turn around, Haeun!” Secretary Song grabbed her pocket-sized coworker by the shoulders and swiveled her like the rest of their mob of meerkats.

“I don’t believe it...”

“We’re dead,” said the second Secretary Song Jiyoo, Vice Chairman Im’s assistant, whom the entire department simply called Two.

Secretaries Ahn and Guk looked at each other with crinkled brows. Together, they murmured, “Maria is going to kill us.”

Bumbling through the speakers, they could make out their director wailing louder than she had all night.

“All we have to see is that I don’t belong to you and you don’t belong to me. Freedom! Freedom!”

Secretary Lee looked at the two wide-eyed women, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “So. What do you two want on your urns?”

“Secretary Guk!” came the dreaded call no one had expected to hear from her boss, Vice Chairman Lee Jooheon, tonight.

“Sir,” she stammered as she stepped forward, her hands rushing to her cheeks to hide the alcohol coloring them. She looked frantically at her superior before she realized he was flanked by his seven fellow vice chairmen, every last one in their requisite three piece suits and ties, every hand stuffed in their pockets. She may as well have been coming face-to-face with a firing squad. “Sirs, you came?”

“We said we would,” he replied.

"Yes. Yes, you did…”

Vice Chairman Lee Jooheon took a look around, his bottom lip protruding. “We’re late?”

“No, sir,” Secretary Guk was quick to jump in. “You are right on time, of course. A bunch of us simply got here early to pre-game.”

“Is that what kids call dinner these days?” said Kihyun with a popped eyebrow.

“Ah…”

“You didn’t include the dinner in the invitation?” Secretary Ahn hissed into her colleague’s ear.

Secretary Guk simply stood there with her mouth open.

Secretary Ahn elbowed her friend, but the other secretary just looked at her helplessly. Jooheon narrowed his already thin eyes as he assessed his assistant like a lie detector, but he didn’t say anything further.

“There are a lot of people here,” mused Hoseok to Hyungwon.

Men and women clustered around tables—and soju—many with their drinks stilled in hand as they spied their bosses’ bosses. There were faces the vice chairmen recognized from their various departments, but there were just as many they didn’t, lower level managers and assistants too far down the totem pole for them to have met. No doubt Director Ortega knew them all by name.

Past the honeycomb of booths, at the head of the room, there was a packed dance floor, though once again, the revelry seemed frozen as though by a curse. Everyone watched the seven overlords.

As distracting as it all was, it couldn’t distract from the party’s crown jewel.

Dressed in an oversized buttondown and a denim skirt, Director Ortega bounced from toe to toe in a pair of blindingly white sneakers. Her waves were full-blown curls tonight, bouncing with the beat pulsing through the speakers. Mic in hand, she belted out her third encore, a booze-saturated, warbling rendition of the chorus of Cher’s “I Got You, Babe.”

And she wasn’t alone.

On the mic next to her was a young, effervescent man who seemed to be the only one in the room who didn’t have eyes fixed anywhere other than the woman next to him on stage.

Hyunwoo hummed as he glared. “I know him…”

“Hey,” interjected Hoseok with a nudge to his elder cousin’s shoulder, “isn’t that the guy from breakfast? Mr. Helpshimself.”

The COO’s eye twitched.

“Secretary Lee!” barked Hyungwon to his assistant. “Who’s that with the Director?”

“Uh, on stage?” echoed the younger man. “Mm, I don’t know.”

“Secretary Guk,” Jooheon pressed, “do you know that man?”

She shook her head. “Sorry, sir, I don’t. Maria invited him.”

The vice chairman glowered, and the secretary crumbled.

“Er, Director Ortega invited him, but I can find out?”

“Immediately,” he insisted.

Secretary Guk scampered away toward one of the HR managers who hadn’t moved so much as a muscle since the vice chairmen had strolled in, but if the paralyzed look in his eyes was any indication, he wanted nothing to do with her.

Meanwhile, Kihyun huffed. “A man nobody seems to know is dueting with Director Ortega?”

The secretaries shifted uncomfortably even as two voices, one rich in bass and the other ripe with alcohol, stampeded through the silence like a pair of frolicking elephants. Secretaries One and Two cast worried glances back at their director, who was beaming lopsidedly at the handsome fellow who was hamming it up on his knees now, hand reaching up toward Maria.

“Now, Secretary Guk!” Jooheon called back.

His assistant scurried back with her head bowed and said, “Manager Cho believes his name is Intern Wong Kunhang.”

Secretary One hummed. “Oh, that’s Intern Wong? I think I heard he was brought on to the Purchasing Department from our Macau division a month or two ago.”

“Hm,” hummed Changkyun. “What’s an intern doing at a senior level director’s going-away party?”

Secretary Guk’s head dipped a little lower. “Apparently, I had heard correctly. The Director invited him personally. He wasn’t on our executives list, sir.”

As the vice chairmen stared green-eyed at the stage, the director and her partner finished the last lines of the song with breathless laughs.

Maria bent back into a light stretch as she caught her breath, and when she straightened, she squinted out into the eerily calm party room. Gone was the soju-greased dance party, noisy conversation and uproarious laughter, replaced instead by an ambient background soundtrack and muffled parties in nearby rooms.

“Why is nobody dancing?” Maria complained as she looked around the crowded club of stricken guests.

“Hey, no worries. I can fix that. I have a song that will get them going,” assured Kunhang. He shuffled through the playlist for a minute as he added over his shoulder, “What do you think about—”

Just then though, the young man was yanked by his wrist toward the edge of the stage where his direct supervisor, Supervisor Qian glared at him with imploring eyes. “No more encores, Intern Wong.”

“Ah, come on! It's the Director's big day. If she wants another song—”

But the supervisor shook his head vehemently. “I'm doing this for your own good, Intern Wong. Hurry up off the stage now, come on. I’ll give you money for a cab. Go home early and safely.”

“Are you nuts? I’m not leaving yet. Maria invited me personally.”

Supervisor Qian slapped his hand over the intern’s mouth and hissed, “Do you want to lose your job the same month you got it? Stop talking for once, Intern Wong, and go!”

The supervisor yanked his subordinate down the steps, leaving Maria squinting alone into the haze ahead of her.

“Hyeongseo!” she shouted into the hushed crowd. “Hyeongseoie! Where are you?”

Secretary Kim, Vice Chairman Lee Hoseok’s personal assistant and Maria's best friend in the company, turned to Secretary Ahn and hissed, “Fix this, Minha!”

She raced to her friend’s aid on stage, leaving Vice Chairman Lee Minhyuk’s assistant gasping like a fish in front of the heads of the whole company.

“Uh,” Secretary Ahn began hesitantly, “sirs, maybe you would like to meet us later for some barbecue across the street? Everyone will be more presentable in a half hour, especially with some food in their bellies.”

“Why?” asked Hoseok. “We’re already here.”

Minhyuk cocked his head to the side, his warm blonde hair feathering across his forehead as he did. “It seems Secretary Ahn is trying to get rid of us.”

“Not at all, sir!” she squealed as she waved her hands. “It’s just that maybe noraebang is a little noisy and chaotic for leaders of your caliber who are used to quiet offices and boardrooms.”

“She means you’re bringing down the vibe,” came a voice from behind Jooheon followed by a pair of hands clapping on his shoulders.

“Jackson!” said the startled vice chairman. “What are you doing here?”

“Maria invited me,” he said with a cheeky smile that got even cheekier the more flustered the rest of vice chairmen grew. “I’m surprise she invited you.”

Kihyun sucked his teeth as assessed the president, who downed the shot in his hand with a grin on his face. “Having a good time I take it, President Wang?”

“It was a party, so I was.”

“Was a party?” questioned Hoseok.

“Until seven wet blankets dampened the mood.”

Kihyun pursed his lips now. “The soju seems to have loosened your lips.”

With a nod to the stage, Jackson replied, “It does have that reputation, yeah. If I were you, I’d by worried about the number one consumer of soju here tonight. When she sees you, you’re done…”

“How the hell did they find me!”

Though there was no mistaking the clear outrage, the seven vice chairmen had a hard time believing the voice was that of their esteemed, reliable, punctual, efficient, unwavering Director Ortega.

And yet one glance to the stage, where the director stood, arms flung wide and eyes blasted open as she challenged Secretary Kim, left no doubt it was the legend herself.

“Hm,” said Jackson, “I’m going to need a beer and a front row seat for this. Good luck, sirs.”

With that, the President of Operations disappeared into the crowd of fish faces all watching and waiting for what came next.

They didn’t have to wait long.

The director took the stairs remarkably well considering the booze counteracting her anger, but then purpose had always driven every move Maria Ortega had ever made. She headed straight for her seven moving targets. Several of the vice chairmen took a step back, huddling ever so slightly behind the wall of Hyunwoo and Hoseok.

They barely recognized the woman they’d seen nearly every day for years. Though her fine spray of freckles still dusted her face and neck, it was harder to make out under her heavy rose flush. Her ever-alert eyes were hard and narrow, and even though she was swaying as she planted her feet wide, her hands found a brand new home on her hips, giving her small stature the hulk of a professional wrestler.

“Director—” began Hyunwoo, but she waved him off instantly.

“Apologies, your highnesses, I know I’ve given you four years of contradictory evidence, but this is my night off,” she declared briskly. “Your offices are two streets down and around the corner.”

“Director Ortega—” tried Hoseok now, but she cut him off, too, with a shake of her head.

There was no sign of their perennial diplomatic as she ordered, “You should go. All of you.”

“But why?” said Jooheon in a blatant whine.

“We just got here,” insisted Hyungwon.

Maria scoffed. “Oh, I know. You’ve flatlined the mood.”

“I’ve never been accused of such a thing,” Minhyuk swore.

“Look!” she said and swung her arm toward the door, where a pair of coworkers were slinking out until her voice immobilized them in the doorway. “People are already leaving because they don’t want seven spoiled brats lording over their good time.”

“Brats?” said Hyungwon.

“Spoiled?” Kihyun balked, too. “We’re not spoiled.”

Another scoff. Maria scowled as she said, “I’ve never seen silver spoons lodged farther down throats. And now no one is going to want to have a good time with me because they don’t want you brats to fire them.”

“Somehow President Wang still has his job,” Jooheon shouted to Jackson, who was sitting cross-legged at one of the nearby booths, beer in hand.

With a sigh this time, Maria said resignedly, “What are you even doing here?”

“We’re here to celebrate you,” said Changkyun.

“Because we care about you,” Hyungwon added.

Maria’s eyes shifted to the Chief Sustainability Officer. Her face fixed on an expression too foreign for her face.

A beat passed. Then another.

Her lips parted. Before she could respond though, the puppy-eyed intern appeared at the director’s side, a tail practically wagging behind him. He rested his fingertips on her forearm, and her attention shifted to the young man.

“Sorry about that, Maria. Supervisor Qian thought I was too drunk to stay or something, but considering he's already six shots in, I figured he wasn't one to judge. Oh, hey!” The intern pivoted on his foot and smiled at the seven stone-faced men across from him. “You must be the vice chairmen. It's nice to meet you, Your Excellencies.”

Kunhang bowed and rose with two high eyebrows and a toothy grin.

“Your Excellencies?” Hyungwon said flatly.

The intern nodded. “I hear you're the seven princes of Xtra Mile, at least, that’s what everyone in the office says.”

“And we hear that you’re from our Macau office,” said Hoseok.

“Yes, sir.”

Hyunwoo’s jaw flexed. “Do you miss Macau, Intern Wong?”

Maria narrowed her eyes, but Kunhang simply shrugged his shoulders and his mouth. “I did at first, but I’ve gotten pretty used to things here now. I really love Seoul so far.”

“That’s no reason to stay,” Jooheon added quickly.

“Internships run their course,” agreed Hyungwon.

With a tilt of his head, the intern smiled brightly. “I’ve got a good feeling about this one.”

“You shouldn’t. Maybe you should head out before your job—” grumbled Kihyun before Maria stepped between the factions, her back to the vice chairmen.

“Kunhang, Secretary Lee needs a drink. Why don’t you two have one together for now?” she suggested as she spun the younger man back toward the stage.

“Okay, but we’re still doing another song to wake up these zombies, right?”

Maria nodded and sent him off, and when she swiveled back to her bosses, albeit teetering slightly, gone was her gentle smile.

“I invited Kunhang,” she asserted, “and I want him to stay. You have no authority to order my guests to leave.”

“Actually, we own 51 percent of this—”

Hyunwoo gave a discreet punch to Minhyuk’s side to shut him up, but it had about as much impact as a car accident. While the blonde cradled his gut, Maria glared.

“You're not the bosses of my party! In fact, you're not even my bosses anymore.”

“We are for the next month,” Kihyun reminded.

“Hey, Two!” the director shouted over her shoulder. “Clear that back booth for me please. I’m putting these seven children in time-out until they can learn to play well with others.”

An audible gasp circulated through the room along with one very inebriated giggle somewhere in the back that was quickly silenced. The vice chairmen stood there dumbfounded as their secretaries nervously followed their director’s instructions and shooed away partygoers from the back corner where a C-shaped booth lurked in the neon shadows. The table cleared, and Maria thrust her arm forward and instructed, “Sit.”

They did.

Another pair of guests seized the distraction and made a break for the exit, but the director trumpeted, “Nobody leaves until everyone’s had a good time!”

“Woohoo!” Kunhang cheered from halfway across the room. He was the only respondent though the escapees did retreat back to their tables.

“Can’t we talk about this?” Hyunwoo said in his usual steady tone.

Maria shook her head. “Your lordships talk to much as it is. Sit here and be quiet for once.”

Kihyun hummed. “Director Ortega, I think you’ve had a bit to drink. Maybe—”

“Psh, I’m not nearly drunk enough for this conversation.”

Jooheon let out a resentful sigh as he scrunched his nose and challenged, “We really did come to support you.”

But Maria swept her pointer finger from end to end of the rainbow of vice chairmen and barked, “Pinches egoístas! Todo lo que hacen en tomar y tomar! ¿Y que obtengo a cambio? ¡Solo molestias! Y ni siquiera me pueden dejar en paz. Hijos de puta.”

“That didn’t sound great,” Hoseok said with a grimace at Minhyuk.

Hyunwoo cleared his throat and started, “Director—”

“Nn-nn, no. No, no. I'm so sick of that name. That's the only name I've heard for the last 762 years.” Kihyun and Hyungwon exchanged looks at her embellishment, but the woman didn’t notice as she continued, “I have a real name, a person name not a job name. Okay?”

“Okay,” said Minhyuk with a lopsided smile.

“It's Maria. It's a pretty name. It was my mother’s name and my great-grandmother's name. Isn't it pretty? Maria. Say it.”

“Maria,” said Hyungwon slowly, testing it out.

But she surprised him when she launched across the table, both of her hands clamping over his thick lips. “Shh! Not you! Shh!”

“Why not me?” he grumbled behind her fingers, but she shook her head vehemently.

“Why are you so loud?”

“Loud?” Kihyun chuckled with a furrowed brow as he turned toward his half-brother. “You’re not loud. I can barely decipher half the mumblings that come out of your mouth. Maria, do you mean the music’s loud?”

“Not loud enough!” she shouted.

“Maria,” repeated Hyungwon, softer this time, but she plugged her ears then and shook her head.

“I said it's too loud. Shh! You call me Director Ortega.”

The silver-haired vice chairman scowled at his half-brother as he folded his arms across his broad chest. “Why can’t I say it… He just did.”

The director narrowed her eyes at the vice chairmen and said, “I’m going back to get drunk like I deserve for the first time in ages, and you are not ruining that yet again, got it? Hopefully I’ll forget you were even here.”

“How long do we have to sit here?” Jooheon griped.

Maria folded her arms. “You act like children, I treat you like children. You stay here until you learn your lesson.”

Changkyun laid a hand on his dimpled cousin’s shoulder before took the lead and said, “We came here to talk to you, Maria.”

“Well, I came here to party because it’s my party, and I’m not talking. I’m partying.”

She turned around, but before she could take three steps, Hoseok blurted, “What are we supposed to do?”

Over her shoulder, she answered, “You’re in timeout. You don’t do anything… unless you decide to leave. You want to reconsider?”

None of the men moved, save Kihyun and Hyungwon crossing their arms in unison in an unexpected reminder that they shared some genes.

Maria huffed. “Fine. The only way you’re getting up from this table is if you leave or you join in.”

“What does that mean?” asked Minhyuk.

“Seriously? You drink and you sing duets or you get out. There's no way I'm letting you stone sober tyrants hold anything over my secretaries after I'm gone. ¿Te quedó claro? Drink and sing or get out.”

“Is that all? I can do that,” the Chief Product Officer said with a smile and presented his hand. “Will you do me the honors of singing with me?”

Maria cackled, and all seven men froze at the unfamiliar sound. “With you, Mr. Lee Minhyuk? Oh, no way.”

“You’ll sing with an intern but not with us?” Hyungwon pointed out tightly.

“That’s the easy way out,” she countered, “and I've spent way too much of my life by each of your sides already. No, you have to sing with each other.”

“With each other?” they exclaimed as a united front for once.

Maria cocked an eyebrow and a hip and stared them down. “If you've got the guts. If not, there’s the door.”

With that, Maria returned to her party, stole a snack from a nearby table, and bellowed out a war cry for the party to continue. With the help of Intern Wong’s impromptu DJing and the out-of-sight, out-of-mind vice chairmen, most guests were swaying and drinking again, this time with much more moderation.

That is until everyone got the surprise of their lives.

Just as Manager Gong of the marketing department finished her off-key solo performance of XG’s “New Dance,” two sharp silhouettes climbed the stairs to the stage, and once they’d selected their song, they turned around and stepped into the lights.

Minhyuk and Kihyun each grabbed a mic and waited to catch up to the beat of TVXQ’s “Spellbound”. At the first notes out of their mouths, a couple shot glasses fell to the floor, but it was nothing to the number of jaws that followed.

“My god,” murmured Secretary One, “they could be idols. How did I not know Vice Chairmen Yoo could sing like this? I see him all day every day!”

“I didn’t know they could sing either!” said Secretary Kwon. “Did you, Maria?”

A rice cake now sagging in her hand, the director couldn’t even find the strength to shake her head as her two bosses prowled the stage looking like they’d always belonged up there. They’d shed their suit jackets in favor of their dress shirts, each having rolled their sleeves up to their forearms, which was more skin than Maria had ever seen them show in all their years together. As they glided across the floor, their buttons winked in the spotlights, taunting the woman who’d been so confident up to that very moment that she’d known everything about them.

“This feels like a concert!” one of the managers screamed over the music.

“I can’t believe we get to see this for free!” shouted another.

“Why do they have to be good at everything they do?” bemoaned yet another.

“Feels like they’re singing to you, Maria,” whispered Hyeongseo into her friend’s ear.

“Hush,” the director said because it was all she could manage.

She was too caught up in the two men, ever at odds with one another, harmonizing so effortlessly over the effervescent melody. Minhyuk was definitely the bigger ham of the two, swaying back and forth like a jazz cat with equal cool. Kihyun, on the other hand, had a way of stroking the mic that was so dizzying, it left Maria wondering how much of the room’s spinning was just the alcohol coursing through her now-racing blood.

“They’re even dancing in sync? They have moves?” Secretary Lee exclaimed at their little dance break, eyes bugging out of his skull.

Their performance ended all too quickly, and once again, the club room was silent. The two vice chairmen stood on stage, chests heaving, sweat beading on their brows, expressions tight.

Nobody bothered to hit the artificial applause since the real thing erupted from every corner, including whoops and hollers and chants for an encore. Their bosses merely bowed and made their escape from the limelight toward their mandated timeout, but not before taking a very particular route past their dumbstruck director.

As he blew past her, Kihyun lifted both brows in a challenge, and then the pair was gone… only to be replaced on stage by Hyunwoo and Hoseok.

“There’s more?” said one guest.

“Are they all going to perform? Oh my god,” exclaimed another.

The two largest members of Xtra Mile’s boardroom hiked the stairs to the stage as the applause finally dwindled for the last performance. Maria barely had time enough to process what had just happened in when the first percussive notes of Shinee’s “1 of 1” began.

Hoseok took the lead in the song, his voice sweet and melodic and his lisp clinging to the lyrics, before his cousin picked up the retro beats and flavored them with his own surprisingly lustrous RnB tone.

“These song choices, oh my god,” gasped Secretary Ahn.

“How am I going to go back to work on Monday?” Secretary Kwon lamented as she watched her boss reach his hand out toward them, his voice straining with a high note. Dreamily, she reached back, and Secretary Kim swatted her arm down.

“You’re embarrassing yourself, Haeun!”

“Probably,” Secretary Kwon whimpered, entranced.

“Is it just me,” said Secretary Lee, “or are all these about Maria?”

“I told you,” Hyeongseo sing-songed.

Abruptly, each of the secretaries turned toward the director, who waved them off. “You gossip just as much as ever, Yujun, which always adds fuel to Hyeongseo’s fire. Cut it out, both of you. They’re just showing off. When do they not? Pack of jerks, trying to make me feel bad about having a good time.”

Only then, as the weight of her bosses’ gazes bore down on her from the stage, did Maria realize she hadn’t had a drink since the vice chairmen had stormed in, and, resentfully, she grabbed for a shot glass. But the second she brought it to her lips, it stilled, and nothing she could do could tip it back.

“Damn them,” she cursed under her breath as she slammed the glass back down. “Can’t even get drunk anymore even though I don’t work here anymore.”

But with every cell she sobered up, Maria was more and more aware of how smooth her bosses were on stage, how natural and comfortable they looked under a spotlight, and how enticingly they sang into a mic. It wasn’t fair, and it just amplified her resentment.

“Hey, girl, you all right?” Hyeongseo asked her friend.

“Pack of jerks,” Maria muttered even as Hoseok stared straight into her soul with sparkling eyes.

Finally, the duo finished their serenade, bowed to the crowd and again to their director, and then hurried off stage to make way for Hyungwon, Jooheon, and Changkyun.

“Not again,” the director groaned and Hyeongseo rubbed her back.

“Worried they’re going to be as impressive as the first two duets?”

“I thought they’d leave. I didn’t expect them to take me up on it. Why didn’t I make them leave?”

Vice Chairman Yoo’s secretary quirked a finely plucked brow. “Seems like they’re figuring out what it means to lose you. I wonder what they’d say if they knew the real reason you’re leaving.”

Maria hissed, “I’ll throw you out, too, One!”

“Aera! Hey, Aera!” whispered Secretary Lee to Secretary Guk, who could barely tear her eyes from her boss, Jooheon, as the dimpled man centered himself behind a mic. “Aera, other than a boardroom, have you ever seen the three of them together?”

“Vice Chairman Lee looks so handsome…” she murmured with dimples that matched her superior’s. Her colleague swatted his hand in front of her face, and she blinked and snapped, “What do you want, Yujun?”

“I asked you a question!”

“Shh!” she said, ignoring him. “We’re witnessing history, and I’m not missing a second of it.”

Secretary Lee rolled his eyes, but his fellow assistant was right. The whole room could feel it, even the transfixed director.

“They can't possibly be a skilled as the other vice chairmen, can they?” asked Secretary Two.

A familiar throwback beat bumped out of the speakers, and Hyeongseo’s eyes glided to the director as Shinhwa’s “Perfect Man” emphatically kickstarted.

“Don’t,” Maria warned her friend.

Hyeongseo grinned as cartoonishly as an emoji.

Hyungwon took control of the opening lines with his raspy vocals, which melted right into Changkyun’s chocolate murmuring and, finally, Jooheon’s power serenading. Before anyone knew it, the latter two were trading some of the fastest, smoothest rap lines anyone in the company had ever heard.

“They can rap?” squealed Secretary Ahn as she pressed harder against the edge of the stage. “I take back what I said. Thank god your big mouth invited them, Aera.”

If Secretary Guk heard the praise, it took a backseat to the tidal wave of senses bearing down on them from the stage as the three men harmonized in ways not a soul in Xtra Mile could have ever anticipated. They shared lines just as easily as they shared the spotlight, and when they joined voices in the chorus, hearts stopped.

“They're not treating this like noraebang,” marveled Hyeongseo. “They're acting like they're on Music Bank.”

“What a pity they hate each other,” shouted Secretary Kwon over the music. “Imagine if they cut a record together.”

Secretary Lee wrapped one arm around the director and another around Hyeongseo as he muscled in between for a better look of his boss on stage. “I am never letting Vice Chairman Chae live this done. Never. And here I always thought Maria would be the one to bring them together. Who knew it would be music?”

“Who said it isn’t Maria?” said Jackson, who appeared at the director’s other shoulder. His mouth hovered by her ear as he added, “You did tell them to perform after all.”

“‘Cause you are the one!” came the line from the three performers, this time borderline shouted down on the crowd—maybe, more specifically, one President of Operations.

Maria looked up and away from Jackson, though not with stars in her eyes as the rest of the crowd did, but rather with crossed arms and a hard expression.

Hyeongseo shook her friend’s bicep. “Not even a smile? They’re singing right to you, babe. Damn, Maria, I really underestimated how pissed you are at them.”

But the director wasn't pissed. She was in shock.

She looked around at her colleagues, now flush with the stage, hands reaching up, cheering and squealing, all hoping for a crumb of attention from men Maria had only ever seen drink coffee, read reports, and micromanage every second of her day.

Now they were commanding a stage like they owned that, too.

So maybe she was more than a little angry after all.

They had it in them all along to get along, so why the hell had she been stretched thinner than watercolor on an oversized canvas all these years?

The trio’s performance wound down, and the men left the stage the same as the others—abruptly and with little attention for the fanfare that was being ladled on them from the audience. They retreated to their timeout and sat in the same order that they’d been assigned when Maria had sent them there.

“How am I going to go back to the office on Monday knowing what I know...” Secretary Guk said as she stared back heart-eyed at her boss.

“You’d better stay in your lane, Guk Aera,” admonished Secretary Two. “Remember what happened to Secretary Lee Gahyun? She asked out Vice Chairman Im one time, and she was gone the next day. You have to stay as professional as Director Ortega or you’ll be on the job market in no time.”

“I know! I’m just saying it’s going to be so hard. A girl could get lost in Vice Chairman Lee’s dimples…”

“Great,” said Secretary One, “we’re going to be filling two positions this week.”

“A lot to think about, Director Ortega,” Jackson began with a playful look to the woman beside him. “Seems our esteemed Vice Chairmen set out to make an impression. I wonder if it worked.”

Maria gritted her teeth, shook off the two men’s arms around her, and stormed toward the back of the club, every guest’s attention once again pressing down on them. She threw her hands back on her hips and thundered, “Are you happy?”

“Are you?” asked Kihyun.

“We did it for you,” added Hoseok.

“Did you like our performances?” Jooheon wondered. “How did I do specifically?”

Maria sighed. “What was the point of all that, huh? Did you think it would make me stay?”

“No,” said Hyunwoo.

“Yes,” said Minhyuk.

All at once, the director stood there, her shoulders unusually slumped and her round face fallen. “Thank you for coming to my going away party, sirs. You’ve certainly made it unforgettable.”

“Maria!” Kihyun said. “Wait.”

But Minhyuk shook his head. “She’s right, guys.”

With that, the CPO clambered over his relatives’ laps to get out of the booth, breezed past the director, and hurried to the stage which was still empty since they’d had yet to find anyone brave enough to follow the vice chairmen’s acts.

“All right, everyone,” declared Minhyuk into the mic. “Did you enjoy the performances?”

“Yes, sir!” came the universal cheer.

“Great, and did you have fun?”

“Yes!”

“Wonderful, wonderful. Should we add noraebang to our company picnic this year?” he asked.

The cheers were even more forceful now. “Yes, yes!”

“Ah, perfect. That’s great news. Now for the bad news.” Minhyuk smiled down at his employees, bowing and nodding and making his typical spectacle of himself.

Boos that could only come with the conviction of alcohol bubbled up around the room as every last guest waited for the other shoe to drop.

“That’s a wrap on this incredible party, I’m afraid,” said the vice chairman, “but don’t worry. Your vice chairmen will work hard to ensure more things like this in the future. For now, thank you all for supporting our dear Director and making her night unforgettable.”

“Hey, wait, no—” Maria protested, but when she swiveled about the room to address her guests, she found Hoseok and Changkyun holding open the doors to the hallway and waiting like bouncers.

“As you are all still representing Xtra Mile right now, we want to ensure your night ends well,” boomed Vice Chairman Son now from the back of the room. “To that end, we have a fleet of drivers waiting at the ready out there who will take you all home safely.”

“All of us?” shouted someone in the crowd.

“All of you,” Kihyun promised.

“Except you,” Hyungwon said solemnly.

Everyone followed his hard gaze back to Intern Wong, who looked at his boss’s boss’s boss with wide eyes over the lip of his shot glass.

“You walk home,” Jooheon agreed.

“Ah, ah,” corrected Minhyuk from the stage. “My brother is joking. There’s a seat for you in my car. Have a safe trip home, Intern Wong.”

“Why would you—” Jooheon barked before Minhyuk cut him off with a smile and a knowing look.

“As we all know, Maria wants us to see all her guests home well, especially the ones she personally invited…”

Their attention slid over to the director, who was watching her superior just as carefully.

Jooheon looked back at the bewildered intern and said begrudgingly, “Get home safely, Intern Wong.”

“Aw, is the party really over?” asked Manager Cho.

“It is if the Vice Chairmen say it is,” Supervisor Qian answered and picked up his intern by the collar.

“Hey, wait!” Kunghang objected, feet skidding beneath him as he was compelled forward. “I wanted to say goodnight to the Director!”

“I’m sure you did. Come on, our free ride is waiting, Intern Wong.”

Kunhang’s puppy eyes pleaded forgiveness of Maria as he waved and shouted goodnights even as his supervisor dragged him bodily out of the room. Over his shoulder, he shouted, “Don’t forget to text me when you get home so I know you got there safely!”

Hyungwon and Jooheon rolled their eyes as the rest of the guests began to leave while the secretaries started reining in the wake of chaos in the room. For her part, Maria cleaned up one of the bottles of soju by downing it straight from the mouth. No booze had ever tasted more satisfying.

“I can’t believe you threw out all my guests,” she said bitterly.

Minhyuk shrugged. “I just followed your lead, Maria. You were the one who said the night was over.”

The director grunted and thumped the empty bottle back on the table. “I was throwing you out, not them.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time we misunderstood something.”

Maria narrowed her eyes. “Yes, but I get the feeling that was intentional rather than accidental.”

“Feelings are not enough for a court of law,” Kihyun interjected with a hooked grin, and she sighed.

“There are forty-some people here. How are you going to get them all home?”

Jooheon beamed at her. “Limos seat eight. It’ll be fine.”

“You brought seven limos to a noraebang?” she exclaimed.

“Well, we weren’t going to ride together,” Hyungwon informed matter-of-factly.

The director sighed and collapsed onto a couch, her head lolling back as she closed her eyes. “You have no idea how much I miss your grandfather. He was mature. He was respectful. He was grateful.”

“We’re not grateful?” Hoseok said with a protruding bottom lip.

“No! You’re none of those things.”

“I resent that,” said Kihyun.

“I don’t care. What else am I supposed to think? You’re the same people made me leave family events half a world away to wait on you.”

“That was Hyungwon!”

The silver-haired vice chairman went to bite back, but the director did it for him. She squared up to Kihyun and, tongue loosened by alcohol, blurted, “You’re better? Really? I was seconds away from getting laid for the first time since the Ice Age when you texted me, what was it, 17 times? The guy thought I was married and bolted.”

A bottle clattered to the floor, and everyone turned to find President Wang standing there sheepishly with eyes big as marbles just as the rest of the secretaries were.

“Jackson? I thought we kicked you out, too,” growled Jooheon. “You are definitely walking home.”

“Aw, come on, man. You owe me for—”

“Out!” the CMO snapped.

The president hurried out with all seven secretaries in tow, each one giving Maria their own version of an embarrassed grimace, and once the procession of mortification was gone, she was left to stew in the horror of her last admission. She had to divert attention immediately.

“There’s no point in asking me to stay, sirs,” she said as assertively and professionally as her tipsy state would allow.

“You already took another job?” Hoseok said, the disappointment in his voice clear as glass.

Maria shook her head. “No. No, I need time away from an office. I need somewhere to clear my head.”

Hyunwoo raised both eyebrows. “You're taking a vacation?”

The director remained silent.

Kihyun pressed his sharply bowed lips together as he narrowed his eyes. “You're moving back home?”

More silence.

“To America!” The other six shouted in unison.

“You can’t,” Hoseok insisted.

“Of course I can. You don’t own me, contrary to what you seven seem to believe.”

“That’s not it!” protested Jooheon. “Give us a chance to prove it to you. We’ll lighten your workload. We’ll give you more time off. We won’t spring meetings on you. Just don’t leave, please.”

“Dios mío, dame fuerzas! Listen, sirs, it’s nice of you to come and show your sincerity, I mean it, and I appreciate your generosity, I really do, but my resignation is about so much more than that.” Maria took a deep breath then said, “Working for your family, I’ve accomplished more than most in my life, and I’m proud of that, but there’s one thing that my career has kept me from accomplishing, and that’s become absurdly clear since my sister’s wedding.”

“The wedding Hyungwon kept you from enjoying?” Kihyun needled, but before Hyungwon could volley back, Maria slapped her hands down on the booth as effectively as across their faces.

“Why can’t you boys just get along? It would have made my job so much easier if I didn’t have to spend as much time translating foreign languages for you as I did translating messages between you. Some days, it’s more like running a daycare than it is a multibillion-dollar company.”

“Ouch,” mumbled Hoseok.

“On that trip… What did you learn, Maria?” Hyunwoo redirected gently.

Her head lolled to the side. “What’s the point of explaining? You’re all just going to argue and lob blame at one another. I’d rather we just end it here, sirs, and you can all blame each other without me having to embarrass myself.”

“We can’t fix things if we don’t know what the problem is,” the COO insisted.

“You can’t fix them even if you do.”

“You don’t know that,” said Changkyun softly.

The director shook her head. “I do, sir. This isn’t something that can be fixed by seven executives.”

“We have resources,” Minhyuk insisted, his finger stabbing a table with every word. “We have a whole company at your disposal. There’s nothing that we can’t get you.”

“You can’t get me a husband, and you sure as hell can’t get me laid.”

Maria covered her mouth, but it was too late. The damage was done, and this time, there was no one there to distract from it.

“So it’s true…” murmured Hyungwon.

“No! Oh no… See! I knew it!” she bellowed and covered her face with her hands. “Everyone in the company knows the sad fate of poor, pathetic Maria Ortega. How humiliating. Over a decade of professionalism, and I’ve cannonballed it in a few days.”

“That's not true,” Kihyun reassured.

“Obviously it is. No wonder everyone was so eager to congratulate me on quitting. Maria Ortega, the cautionary tale for career driven women. She thought success was enough, but the moment she finds out she has no one to share it with, she realizes that the world now cruelly thinks she’s too old for love.”

“Horseshit,” Hyunwoo bit with uncharacteristic ferocity.

The director slumped over, forearms on her knees. “It doesn’t matter if it is or it isn’t. Spinster is still a word in people’s vocabulary. I’ve aged out of most of my prospects. Men aren’t looking to start a life with a woman at 38.”

“I saw that line of admirers this morning,” the honey-haired COO reminded. “You were turning down offers right and left.”

“It’s not at all what you think, sir.”

“It was,” Hoseok asserted. “Those hopeful, lovestruck looks are unmistakable.”

She closed her eyes and grimaced as she flashed back through the last couple years of disasters. “You all should know better than anyone that a salesman knows just what to do to close a deal before he moves to the next more profitable town.”

“That can’t be true,” insisted Minhyuk. “No one could say no to you.”

Maria belted out a bitter laugh, then another, until it suddenly became a strand of ironic giggles over the persistent hum of the speaker static. “Are you kidding me? It’s your favorite word for me and my personal life. You are the seven kings of the word. It’s the only other thing you have in common.”

“Impossible,” asserted Kihyun.

“When have I ever told you no?” Minhyuk challenged.

“That’s not—” began Hyungwon, but he was cut off by Maria.

“‘Vice Chairman Yoo, please keep me off the schedule Friday evening.’” In a gravelly voice, she continued, “‘Director Ortega, you know I need you to assist me with all acquisitions. It’s expected. We’re finalizing the Usagi Electronics deal. This is the most vital time. It can’t be completed without you.’”

“Hey—” said Kihyun, but again, she cut him off.

“‘Vice Chairman Im, I have important plans this Saturday, so please—'

“‘Director Ortega, please take this job more seriously. You know this morning we were invited to dine with President Park. You don’t say no to President Park.’

In a deeper mimic, she continued, “‘See you on Sunday, Director Ortega.’

“‘But, Vice Chairman Son, I told you I have—'

“‘See you Sunday.’” She closed her little play with Hyunwoo’s trademark tight-lipped, cheeky bear smile before she returned to herself with an exhausted sigh. “You have no idea how difficult it is to live a real life when you have seven superiors who demand your full attention all the time. In all the years I’ve served you, I’ve never seen Gyeongbokgung Palace, I haven’t visited the top of N Seoul Tower, I haven’t hiked Inwangsan. Hell, I haven’t seen a movie since your grandfather retired! Do you know how much I love movies? Now, I can’t even watch them at home because I pass out before they reach the halfway point. You tell me if that’s fair, sirs.”

“We didn’t think of it like that,” mumbled Hyungwon.

“I know. You didn’t think of me at all. It’s always the job first—the title first—and that goes for me, too. My career was the most important thing to me for the longest time. Now that I’ve gotten everything I’ve ever wanted for myself, I found I’m missing more than I realized. And I can’t even make it to one measly blind date.”

“What’s so great about a blind date anyway?” Hoseok challenged. “They’re all out-of-shape bald guys who make you pay for your own coffee.”

Despite herself, Maria couldn’t stifle her chuckle. “What’s wrong with bald guys? You keep bleaching your hair platinum, and you might be bald soon, too, sir.”

The Chief Security Officer groped his own head as he floundered, “Back me up, guys.”

Though he’d been quiet most of the evening, save for his devastating performance on stage, Changkyun propped both elbows on the table, leaned forward, his sly eyes hiding innumerable secrets, and said, “Maybe it’s time to consider alternative avenues.”

“What do you mean…” she asked warily.

“The shortest distance between two points. Have you ever considered that, while you may not know what you’re walking into on a blind date, you do know each of us… Better than anyone, I imagine..”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, so this is how you pitch me to keep my job?”

Changkyun shook his head. “Not at all. My suggestion is simple. Why don’t you date us instead?”

Everyone’s heads whipped toward the youngest vice chairman along with a chorus of “What!”

It didn’t seem to faze him.

“Forgive my brother, Maria,” Jooheon bumbled as he nudged the chocolate-haired vice chairman hard in the ribs. “He uses his status as youngest too liberally.”

“That’s not it,” Changkyun insisted. “I’m serious.”

The director’s hands raced through her rapidly frizzing bob as her eyes searched the shadows for spot to steady her mental tailspin. “Okay. Okay, so it’s just Vice Chairman Im who’s clearly wasted then.”

“Well…” Hyunwoo said slowly. “Maybe my youngest cousin has a point.”

Maria threw her hands up. “Vice Chairman Son, too?”

“Ugh,” groused Jooheon, “you’ve asked us to drop the honorifics but you won’t? Since we’re not coworkers anymore, it’s not necessary.”

“It feels weird not to,” she said.

“Just because it feels weird doesn’t mean it is,” Changkyun countered.

Something in the youngest’s tone warned her not to trust the dark cast in his eyes.

Hyungwon caught her gaze next, and Maria froze, feeling every bit the startled rabbit she imagined she looked to be. The man always had the unique ability to stun her despite how often he managed to look like a person five minutes shy of a cozy nap. He dipped his head down, his lips jutting with his chin, as he asked, “You've never once thought about what it would be like to be with us?”

Maria scrambled to find her bearings, but it was pointless, especially with all the liquor still burning holes in her defenses. As assertively as she could, she said, “It wouldn't matter even if I had.”

“Does that mean you have?” Jooheon said, shooting forward.

The director frantically waved him back. She longed for another shot, but like so much else in her life, it seemed out of reach. She mumbled, “Did you all plan this blindside?”

“I swear to you this is the first we’re hearing it,” said Kihyun with his hand up, “but that doesn’t mean we haven’t been thinking it for a long time.”

The director shook her head. “Not possible. You have to have an angle. You’re businessmen; you always do. You think I'm so desperate and hopeless that I need to date my bosses?”

“Yes?” wondered Minhyuk.

“No!” interjected Changkyun while he glared at his cousin as his other cousin, Hoseok, whacked the blonde on the back of the head. “I’m not suggesting you stay and work for us. I’m suggesting you give us each a chance to prove to you that we’re all like you. We’re all struggling to catch up to our feelings.”

“Feelings?” she said incredulously. “You can’t have feelings for a hammer or a wrench.”

Suddenly, Hyungwon reached across the table and grasped her fingers. Her eyes shot to the often solemn man and found his just as steady and serious as she found them in a boardroom. His thick lips were pressed together into a hard line as his brow furrowed. “You’ve never once—not ever—been a tool in our eyes, Maria, and I’m sorry if we’ve made you feel that way.”

The director yanked her hand away and stared at her skin as though it were burning. All these years, and she’d never touched them save for a jolt in a shared limo or straightening a tie. Maybe it wouldn’t have felt so momentous if they hadn’t all just proposed to date her.

She cradled her hand as she said, “There's not enough soju in this world to make me accept pity dates as severance from my company.”

“You've got it all wrong,” said Hoseok. “You would be the one taking pity on us.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve filled our lives with so many distractions that it’s distracted us from something we've known all along.”

“And what's that?” she asked, and she realized she was holding her breath.

Now it was Hyunwoo who studied the director with an intensity she’d never seen from him. Normally, he gave the appearance of constant wonder or surprise, almost like he wasn’t taking things seriously, but usually that was a ruse to throw his professional opponent off-balance. But here, Maria was practically on the floor from tonight’s whiplash, yet there were no hints of that trickery. He was looking at her with everything he had.

His eyes hooded. His voice dropped another octave. “You don't find it odd that seven men who haven't been able to agree on anything in thirty years can all agree that we can't be without you?”

“I do! Exactly,” Maria agreed wholeheartedly. “I do find that odd. But I think the conclusion I've drawn is a lot different than the one you have. Honestly, sirs, I really think you're confusing two separate issues. You don't want the person who's been doing everything for you—short of actually spoon-feeding you—to leave, but need doesn't equal love.”

Hyunwoo’s intensity didn’t let up, even at the barb. Voice as even as ever, he continued, “And I think you're afraid of the possibility that your future has always been with us.”

“Or maybe,” she said, keenly aware of how much her own voice was now shaking, “I'm afraid of the far more likely possibility that this is all some game you seven have concocted to trick me into staying. For a bunch of guys who said they didn’t plan this, with all these pretty things to say, you sure sound rehearsed.”

Kihyun, who’d been sitting closest to her, leaned in, his voice unusually deep. “Maybe that’s because we’ve each been rehearsing this for longer than you think.”

To fight the shiver racing down her spine, Maria chewed her lip aggressively.

“At least let us have the chance to prove we’re serious,” said Jooheon.

“And how do you propose to do that?”

“For starters,” Changkyun answered, “we respect your resignation. We won't pressure you to stay on as our director anymore. We’ll start interviewing candidates as soon as you find them.”

Maria popped an eyebrow. “What if I want to recommend Secretary Kim for the position?”

They all looked to Hoseok. Worry flashed across the CSO’s face for a second before he nodded slowly. “She’s an excellent assistant. I’m sure she’d be up to it.”

“She would,” Maria agreed, a relieved smile brightening her face for the first time since they’d arrived. “If she says yes, I can start training her on Monday.”

The vice chairmen couldn’t hide their shock and hesitation, but nobody dared argue it.

Again, the director found her lip between her teeth, this time coupling it with a worrying of her top button. “So, um, how would this all work? I mean, if I believed you for one second…”

“Well,” Jooheon said as she scooted a little closer on her other side, “if you believed us, we’d each like a chance to take you out.”

“There won't be any work involved,” Hoseok promised. “We're talking about dates, so we’ll keep everything out of the office.”

“You, I’m not worried about,” Maria admitted. “I can barely keep you at your desk as it is. But a few of you…”

She glared at Minhyuk, Kihyun, and Changkyun before the first butted in, “Not this time. And you won't have to plan a thing. We'll be responsible for you for a change.”

“Despite what you may think, we’ve managed to pick up a few things over the years,” Hyungwon said.

She glared sternly at them. “I’m 38. I don’t have time for boys.”

“Director Ortega—Maria,” Kihyun corrected, “we run a multibillion-dollar company. We’re not children anymore.”

“Didn’t I just put you all in time-out?” she recapped. They pouted across the board, seven undeniably handsome faces as defeated as the director had ever seen, and Maria let out a sigh. “Ugh, this conversation is making me feel uncomfortably sober. How serious are you all planning to take this charade?”

“At least as serious as you do,” said Minhyuk.

“As serious as we’ve ever taken anything,” amended Changkyun.

Maria groaned and said, “There’s no way you can play nicely with each other. How am I supposed to come out alive from this?”

“If there’s one thing to convince us to get along, it’s you, Maria,” said Hyungwon. She clutched her temples at this sound of her name in his gravelly rumble and winced.

“This is such a bad idea. What happens when it doesn’t work out with any of you? Or worse, it does work? What happens if it works really well with one of you? You can’t get along as is. Something like this… it could makes things irreconcilable.”

Minhyuk shrugged. “If you’re leaving anyway, at least you won’t have to stay for the fallout.”

“I still care,” she insisted, hands gripping the table edge. “I love Xtra Mile. I don’t want to be the reason something happens to it. You can’t promise that you’ll be okay with this.”

“You’re right,” said Hyunwoo, “we can’t, but if it isn’t already clear, we’ll do just about anything for you.”

“Even act like family,” Jooheon said with a clap on his little brother’s back beside him.

Maria glanced between her bosses, finding a thousand different reasons why this was a stupid, terrible idea, yet she found herself resisting all of those. Time stretched between the group. One minute morphed into two and then five, but it didn’t make a difference. It wasn’t changing her fate or her answer.

She chewed her lip again, but finally, she said, “I don’t know…”

“Jackson said we needed to show you our sincerity,” said Kihyun. “Please, Maria, let us.”

“You spoke to President Wang about this?” she shouted, her whole body darkening a shade. “Oh god, I can’t show my face back at the office ever again.”

“We didn’t talk to him about this!” Jooheon was quick to swear. “No one knows about this but us.”

“Hell,” said Minhyuk, “we didn’t even know before right now.”

Maria whimpered. “You better pray no one finds out or I won’t be putting you in timeout. I’ll be putting you in prison.”

The vice chairmen shared a laugh and a nod, which was more than they’d really ever shared, and the director relented to them as she had for years. Maybe it was the wrong thing to do considering where that bad habit had led her, but curiosity—and so much more—had gotten the better of her.

Come Monday, with the booze burned out of her system and her power suit back on, maybe her misgivings would get the better of her, but as Hyunwoo’s limo driver returned from dropping off the last of her guests and offered to take them all home, she didn’t refuse.

And she didn’t refuse when they insisted on piling out on her sidewalk to see her safely into her building.

She didn’t refuse when they promised to make the next month all about her.

With one final look through the glass entryway at the seven troublesome men who’d strategically commandeered her whole life for the past five years, she muttered to herself once more, “Dios mío, dame fuerzas…”

#monsta x smut #shownu smut #wonho smut #minhyuk smut #kihyun smut #hyungwon smut #jooheon smut #changkyun smut #wwwdo #reverse harem #miniseries #original character #ot7 #coworkers to lovers

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daisydoesfanfics · 1 year ago

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|You know I didn't want to have to haunt you|

blade hears you speak, whispering in his ears, calling out to him. he looks around, not a sight of you anywhere. he follows the sound of your voice, slow and hesitant steps turn into a determined sprint. he dashes through the woods, your cries growing louder and louder, like a sob for help. he sees you, he finally sees you. but before he could reach out to you, a sword makes contact with your heart, piercing through your chest in one swift motion. "why didn't you save me?" you asked him with a shaky breath as you fall to the ground, blooding spilling everywhere. he feels dizzy, as if the world started spinning around him. and suddenly he wakes up, lying in cold sweat as you haunt him in his nightmares.

|'Cause when I'd fight you used to tell me I was brave|

he would bury himself in your arms, tears quietly streaming down his face as the pain of the mara washed over him. your fingers ran through his hair, your other hand on his face as your thumb wiped away his tears. "you'll be fine, i promise." you pressed a kiss to his cheek, feeling his breath starting to go slow and steady. "you're so brave, you know. not everyone can suppress such a disease." your praise was like music to his ears, it made him feel stronger during times where he felt so weak. his arms tightened around you, wanting to protect you and keep you with him forever. but not even the tightest embrace can stop the cruelty of this world. now he sits alone, with no one to wipe his tears anymore.

|And I still talk to you (when I'm screaming at the sky|

he finds himself in a field of dandelions, your favorite flowers. he never understood your adoration for them, "they would die eventually." he argued. but truth is, you were just like those flowers. the tip of his fingers caressed the seeds of the flower, but no matter how gentle he was, they all flew away from him. he clenched his fists, looking up into the sky as he cursed the aeons. he cursed all of them, asking why they took the one thing that he loved, the one person who supported him. and he screams out, asking you why you left him so early. but he slowly looks back down at the ground, knowing there's no one else to blame but himself. he whispers sweet apologies to the stars, hoping that there's a chance you might have heard him, and that you would forgive him for not being able to save you.

|You turned into your worst fears|

he promised to you once that he would change his ways, he would become a better person. and he feared that he may not be able to keep that promise, knowing about the things that the mara forces him to do. but knowing that you were there, he still tried his best. after he lost you however, all the warmth and hope that you gave him turned into dust, turning him into the cold and ruthless man he used to be. he kills mercilessly, without a second thought or a single bit of sympathy for his victims. yet, deep down, in the pit of his heart, a sort of guilt bubbles up. not because he regrets his actions, but because he regrets failing his promise to you.

|And I can go anywhere I want, anywhere I want, just not home|

for the longest time, blade didn't have a place to call "home". he often wandered around, moving from place to place. even when he had an agreement with elio, becoming a part of the stellaron hunters, he didn't know what "home" meant. sure he lived somewhere for good, but that's all it was. it took you to make him realize that "home" wasn't a place, it was a person, at least it was to him. home was in your arms, your loving embrace, your kind words, your caring actions. your presence made any place warm and welcoming. but now, even the walls of his house, that used to be filled with your warmth and laughter, was cold and gloomy. and every night, he looks over to your side of the bed, which was now left vacant. the pillows still smelled like you, and he'd hold them close to his body, yearning for you once more.

♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫

A/N: So, here's the first piece on my new collection "Stories and Music"🩵 I quite like this actually, especially since I love Taylor! I will also post an updated masterlist with this collection, one shots, and multiple part stories soon. Hope you liked this:)

#fanfic #honkai star rail #blade x reader #hsr blade #blade honkai #blade x you #blade x y/n #blade x gender neutral reader #blade angst #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr #hsr angst #fiction #blade imagines #blade hsr #my tears ricochet #Spotify

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naturallyteal · 7 months ago

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The Wrestlers

An Epic Poem for a “chosen hero”* for GOetry Monday

prompt by @isiaiowin

Settle in, this one is long…

Canto I

A Dame of Grace and sunlight was the Queen

A mighty sovereign of all her realm

And all her court she gathered on the plain

To play a game she had herself devised.

It was a joust with very simple rules,

The oldest game in every universe:

The High Queen drew a line into the sand

And said: let there be sides, one Black, one White.

Now let those sides be diff’rent from each other,

And that may make them hate and go to war,

And as a symbol of that war both sides

Are to appoint one special champion each.

A hubbub went through both sets, Black and White,

As they stood, anxious, on their playing field,

And as they didn’t know what fight would come

And weren’t allowed to talk, now, with their foe,

They issued forth as their ambassador

Two very different champions, such as this:

Canto II

The Black side chose a snake of mighty cunning,

So fluid and graceful in his moves, so sly,

Like quicksilver and swift in his defence,

As well as his attack. They thought he’d win

Each kind of challenge She could throw at him.

Masterful his scheming and so wily,

A serpent well-skilled in imagination,

Brink-full of optimism, more than any.

The White side chose the best of their sword-fighters,

So strong and solid, principled and upright,

Like a tall mountain, unchanged and unchanging,

Soldier incarnate, Guardian, and the Queen’s Knight.

They reckoned nothing, aye, could overcome him,

No bird’s beak grind down any of his substance,

And that his wide intelligence would shield him

Against all onslaughts of a tempting rival.

Behold the moment both chosen opponents

Face off each other, commencing the battle!

Canto III

An arena has aptly been created

The Queen and all the courtiers are well watching,

The contestants have been prepared and readied,

And all the world forgets to breathe with tension:

They take each other’s measure, careful, cautious,

And each thinks: why me? What the deuce I do now?

And as they start amiably to chatter,

And find they think each other quite enticing,

The Queen gets bored and orders them to wrestle!

A cheer runs through the crowds of bichrome colours,

And all the hate the teams accumulated,

Is channeled into our two beloved champions.

They bow to pressure from the folks around them

Both Queen and peers appear too much to gainsay,

And they undress as is for wrestling custom

And oil their skins and stretch and warm their muscles.

Canto IV

Our heroes Black and White, the best of each side

Have took the measure of their situation

And of each other and begin to wrestle.

They quickly thus develop an Arrangement:

They both do what they have to do to uphold

An image of two adversaries wrestling,

But careful not to really hurt each other…

Because what happens when one of them wins this?

And as the wrestling match goes on for aeons,

They keep refining tricks and grips and touches,

Making a home in this their magic show act;

They keep pretending, prestidigitating,

And actually they get quite comfortable

With little bits they’re carving out for themselves

And for each other, until someone calls out:

“Are you certain that they’re really wrestling?”

Final Canto

How Higher Powers play with us below,

And we are only pawns upon their board,

This tale has shown thee, listener agape:

God doesn’t give a damn, make your own story!

~Fine~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

* my chosen hero is Azicrow

notes and credits:

The pictures above with wings, and the background story my poem refers to, are from this tumblr post . The picture without wings is from this tumblr post . Both posts are by @fuckyeahgoodomens . Thanks and kudos!

And as a treat for everyone who made it so far into this long post 🤭, I warmly recommend this amazing comic about the wrestling statue and our heroes on AO3, “Man to Man” by Fledglinger @fledglingdoodles . Warning: explicit, very NSFW! They are also my source of this link to a 3D model of the original (wingless) statue for all you fanartists who might want to draw it!

#good omens #good omens poetry #good omens poem #goetry #epic poem #azicrow #wrestling statue #good omens wrestling statue #the wrestlers

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darkdemeter · 1 year ago

Text

WATCH IN SILENCE

✘DARKSIDERS FILED CLIPPINGS | Death x Female Watcher!Reader ────────────────────────

To the eldest as your charge, Death remained a permanently perplexing sort. This, from the wit of his banter and blunted sass, often leaves you fixated on the nature of his estranged and cold personality, however much you see the confliction of his inner turmoil within. But that is a personal affair you dare not intrude upon.

Most curious for a Watcher, Death often scowls in the closeted nest of his deepest thoughts. More so than not, Watchers tend to make a grand show of their power over the Horsemens’ leash, whichever sibling they hold to, it is but a taming of a trophy. A display, that in comparison to the feared Horsemen, the Watchers are the ones in power.

Darkened, boastful entities. Infectious, shadowy wisps that are bound and loyal to the Charred Council. Yet compared to the likes of your other wrist-shackled counterparts, you remain out of the way of his carnage-paved path. You don’t conduct yourself as a mouthpiece of sarcasm and venomous snark. Death already covers that trait and far more fittingly if you’re forced to confess. But no, you allow him his way without the threat of restraint, and maybe because he is the eldest of his siblings, he is granted that right.

But for you… well, the reason is not like that at all. At least, not entirely. You revere his strength and might, but in fact, you are also rather ‘young’. By this, you have very little experience amassed when chosen to govern a Horsemen; moreso that this is your first venture in doing so. You could also say you’re an admirer of Death. How precise he is in the midst of his outward battles, the radiance of his exuded power, it’s of little use to convince yourself otherwise by accompanying him as his so-called Watcher that you feel safe in his company.

And that is why you remain to that of a voiceless shadow. Quite literally. Upon first bindings to the one known as Kin-slayer, he has not so much as heard you utter a single word. And he knows not if he should be grateful or reserved. A Watcher that is silent?

He tries to not let it overcome his mind. But it's hard when he takes time of momentary rest such as this, to contemplate the path he treads and his next course of action, and then to lift his burning amber eyes to find you. Either staring at him or providing a level of cared attendance to Dust, adoring the crow’s purring chirps as his dark, crisp feathers quiver and fluff out.

When involving the former, all he can do is glare in return but that does little to deter you, gaze almost dream-like, as if you marvel at the sight of him in your muted presence. Though you may harbour a surmised amount of fear for Death, the dangers of other creatures scare you, and that fear only drives you closer to his side. Nights like this there crawls something sinister in the dark. It lingers there like a beast on the prowl. The wispy form of your blackened silhouette dances in hunched uncertainty, perhaps cowardly to the likes of his perspective, before a simple clutter of rubble ignites the last of your incited panic and you huddle to his side. Who better to protect you than Death? His scythes ring the song of victory without so much as a breath, the task of delivering those unto their demise one he is born and created to do.

Has been for many aeons. But he is still and undisturbed by the shifting of pebbles. He scowls, that much you can tell by the thinning of his amber eyes that burn with a thousand blazes of molten and fire.

“It’s nothing, little Watcher.” His voice is strung by the hoarseness of his remark, reprimanding you and your swiftness to scare easily. How often he’s marked you with such belittlement but you find yourself yearning for it. You interpret it as his term of endearment beneath that coarse exterior of his. Head fluttering in the direction of any miniscule note that sounds in the distance around you, you finally come from your hiding place, tucked close to his ribcage with a curious tilt of your head. Glancing from him to where you’d heard the noise, the trail of black at the end of your torso dances over his lap, stirring him with a chill that leaves a disgruntled noise to rise from his chest.

As ever the curious thing you were and that he’d come to know, your arms raise to bend at the elbows, nervously your tinged fingers ring together within your silent inquiry, Death takes an unseemly approach this time around; that of thoughtful gentleness.

“Nothing will come and harm you.”

This answer calms you. He tells by the fall of your shoulders that ease at his promise, and the way your head turns to view him with your eyes, glowing brightly as if you share with him a kind, thankful smile.

“So long as you don’t draw attention,” he quickly snips and that crinkle of your eyes wears away, that once illuminated smile within your gaze dims.

He’s not entirely sure if that was a necessity to add. By what logic would you draw attention to them? Half the time, your presence is invisible to the masked Horseman. Only made known in times where you guide him through his journey, a suggestive wave or push of his body to indicate a point of interest that may be of some use in his quest.

But other than quick outings to help him, watch over him, you don’t exactly serenade him with a chorus of banter he can combat with his own, and thus, enemies don’t take notice of your being there until you show yourself.

But nevertheless, he watches you hover towards him before coming to curl against him. Though he means to protest and brush you aside, you make yourself comfortable at his side and he’s forced to concede that this is where you plan to stay until you both are on the move again.

You sigh, the sound quiet and echoes faintly in the chamber of your enclosed, unmade mouth. Yet your jaw grows down in length as if to copy the motion to yawn and you rest your head against his shoulder.

“You know, you’re a very odd sort of Watcher,” he says to you, yet your eyes dwindle, slowly closing as you remain untainted by his words. They are not new to you. He’s commented a few times about your oddities. And you’re inclined to agree with a sluggish nod.

Still, he watches you, eyes cast upon you with a glare meant to intimidate you. But seeing the serenity of your peace when pressed to him, it comes to soften his gaze. Unexpectedly, something in his heart… beats. Blooms. A strange force threatens to dominate.

The blackened outline of your form fits to the line of his body, the fading tail at the end of your torso rests over in his lap.

Once certain that you’ve somehow drifted into some realm of slumber, his hand comes to rest along the ridge of your spine, he feels the pulse of energy within your shadowed, ethereal body.

The framing curtain of blackness that shrouds your head moves timidly like hair taken softly to the breeze. Much like a human, it is another quality that sets you far apart from the other watchers to relish in their power below the Charred Council’s will.

What Death finds himself now evermore torn and confused by, is the utterance of one word as you drift off into the sleeping abyss.

The quietness disturbed by a tune harmonic - angelic - that it fits not the occupation you find yourself in servitude under.

It is a word he often claims is in the interest of the balance only. That nothing else restrains him to such an esteemed and honourable title.

“Protector…”

#female reader #darksiders #darksiders fanfiction #death x watcher reader #darksiders death #x reader #death x reader #death x female reader #purely self indulgent #*cough* anyways #darksiders 2 #darksiders x reader #imagine darksiders #Death/Reader

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chiyoso · 2 years ago

Text

CYNOSURE'S ASCENDANCE: “CONSTRUCT”

▶PLAY. having barely escaped the observant general's sight, you found yourself back safely towards your abode while the problems in the xianzhou luofu continue to worsen, along with your state, not knowing that the severity of your situation had become on par with the ambrosial arbor crisis.

▶CONTENT. timeline takes place during xianzhou arc, multiple povs, cursing, dan heng ptsd, social anxiety(?), mentions of blood and fighting, idk what else to put here ☠️ pretty sfw for now

“Aeons—Ugh fuck,” You cursed under your unsteady breath, sounds of midnight, accompanied by your swift and graceful movements, slithering around the Exalting Sanctum's buildings, and keenly on the lookout for any patrolling cloud knights as you make your escape from the Arbiter General.

Oblivious and unaware, you've manage to accumulate a certain level of suspicion from your ongoing hobby of managing to apprehend criminals, to encountering shady alchemy commission individuals by chance, to victims of mara.

Additionally, the other night in your leisure stroll with the lovely spear you cherish while walking around Cloudford, you managed to encounter and go up againat two important antagonists who continued to disrupt the peace within the Xianzhou Luofu.

Dan Shu. Mauve Moon—and a damn headache.

You were clueless, attenpting to recall your superior's reports. You weren't heavily aware of the current situation, their status, and you most definitely were not aware that they were both high figures of a large group, unaware that they themselves had been one of the main troubling sources of the Xianzhou Alliance, dealing with unprecedented mara-strucked attacks, that you of course, fight from time to time.

History in the saying, you did however drag the former Cloud Knight, delivering his unconscious, tied up body, successfully placing his (alive of course) figure in the middle of the lotus plaza in the Exalting Sanctum. You didn't really know what happened to them after that since...

You were quite bruised and battered up after that.

Reason being?

The male, that Cloud Knight, he took you by surprise, almost devastatingly so on how skilled and imposing he was.

Prior to that night, you did study enough about the subject of the Xianzhou's main line of defenses—to recognize how Cloud Knights fought, their specific fighting style to bury it into your battle lusting mind, all through a thick, dusted book that you borrowed from Yinshu's book shop.

Even then with that knowledge, you instinctively underestimated the Cloud Knight, thinking to yourself he was just as any other mara-strucked soldier that you've been encountering based off your previous expeditions, resulting in a heavily battered up and sweaty victory.

But at day, where those adventures die down for a little bit, having associated yourself with the Realm-Keeping Commission had its ups and quite tiring lows recently.

Jingyan and Dahao informed you and Songyan, as well as other colleagues of yours, about certain trailblazers that had trouble keeping Dan Shu at bay, unfortunately, you weren't really there present in the office to witness the star traveling companions that time they came in, you were at least aware of their existence—somewhat.

Even so, during that meeting, you kept in mind of the slight intrusion of theirs, and despite the trailblazers claiming victor against the Cloud Knight, via information gathering and a bit of a brawl.

That woman. She had slipped away during your intense, bloody dance with him, leaving you utterly unsatisfied and frustrated.

But you won't deny, it was also one of the most skillful and difficult task you encountered, conflicting your emotions as the battle came to a victorious halt, even then — you were grateful for the opportunity, you knew you needed it, you really did, even in your struggle, you needed to use your spear again.

Why?

Your work in the Realm-Keeping commission consisted of paperwork and only paperwork, repetitively dealing with normal, casual affairs along with the oh-so carefree desk neighbor colleague of yours, Songyan, which you think should be fired for his laziness in all honesty.

One of the job's descriptions that consisted of investigations towards criminals, you thought you would participate in such activities, but not at all, you did not expect to drown in heavy paperwork instead, a heavy amount of your time stolen, restricting you from your beloved spear and rigorous training as the daylight approaches, leaving you deprived of your sleep and reliant on the reliable snack snapperfish jam, downed satisfyingly with a warm bottle of puffergoat milk, occasionally an immortal's delight drink for caffeine, instead of a well deserved full meal that your body genuinely needs.

You're thankful though, for the lonely food vendor just outside behind your residence, they resided near the starskiff dock, for setting a place in a... not so lively area at most times.

Though your reliance on her food, her despondency towards their business, and your need for a quick bite every morning, is definitely a win-win situation, a benefit for the two of you, gaining a friend based relationship for your personal needs, and her business needs.

The elephant in the room, was being an almost infamous vigilante of the Xianzhou Luofu, even if the Arbiter General himself hasn't made this situation public yet, ideal?

No. Never. Not at all.

It is a situation that you had just known about based on the short conversations of the Arbiter General and his lone Cloud Knight.

All because of your boredom in the day, and your eccentric nature, accompanied by your lustful battle tendencies that led you up to this moment.

Haa. Shit. Your accursed mind and body's desires for the excitement of wielding your dearest spear—you hated it. You'd start to subconsciously agree with your parent's idea on why they had... negative outputs of you.

You, being someone so dangerous, but you were no killer. Why would you anyways? The more individuals that you would've easily incapacitate and killed, the lesser your fights shall be.

That was your reasoning, and you're having a hard time determining if this aspect of you were a flaw or not, but you didn't dwell on it further as you finally arrived the court of tranquility, nearing your residence.

You were exhausted.

Both from the events that occured and your... ruined orgasm from earlier.

You moved with tired limbs, towards your cozy abode in a tiring daze, the faint blush on your cheeks don't seem to disappear as the Cloud General's voice continue to ring inside both of your eardrums.

“So that's how he sounds like...” You mumbled under your irregular breathing, your mind racing to the important figure of the Luofu, remembering his deep and stern tone, with underlying hints of warmth.

You sigh, placing your spear in hand close to the bed shortly after making your way towards your comfort room, wanting to get rid of your body's sweat and the remains of your womanly juices, that drenched your legs.

You felt relief once the water from the shower head began coat your skin, beginning to clean yourself, as the night pursues, unfortunately only leaving you a few hours of night worths of sleep, before sunrise awakens you forcibly so.

“But Mr. Yang—” A cute, high pitched and lively voice is cut off, placing her hands on her hips as the rising sun took a peek within the Astral Express's interior, its golden rays dwelled upon her cutely designed pajamas, creating a fresh atmosphere towards a new day.

“A distress call from Miss Jingyan arrived. I apologize for asking Pom-Pom to wake you, our presence is greatly needed by the Realm-Keeping Commission.” The man hoisted his glasses up, repositioning his spectacles over his nose bridge with his index and middle finger, as the other hand occupies his cane.

Before walking towards the cushioned seats, the tall figure looks over his shoulder, continuing shortly after, “Do make haste if possible March, please awaken the twins and Dan Heng.” He spoke with a firm and gentle tone, a sense of concern and urgency from the sound of his vocals if one listened deeply to his low and husk chords.

“Uuhg... alright,” with a compliant nod, accompanied with quiet, mumbling from the little lady, she made haste towards the cabins, heading in deeper into the Express while rubbing her eyes in a sleepy daze. How shall she do this efficiently you wonder? Their cabin, sliding doors were locked, and they were very much asleep in this early time of daylight.

“Mm...” She cleared her throat momentarily, as the light haired lady pursed her lips, facing the corridor where their cabin entrances reside, bringing her hands to the sides of her cheeks, inhaling dee—“EVERYONE! MADAM HIMEKO IS STARTING A CHUG FEST WITH HER COFFEE! LAST ONE OUT OF THEIR ROOMS IS TO FINISH EVERY DROP!” She yelled with the top of her lungs with a sly yet cute grin, her voice carrying a high volume as it was clear that anyone can hear her high pitched, urgent yet teasing tone.

“—the FUCK?” “S-Shit.” “MOVE STELLE-”

Panic and danger. Several, jumbled noises of stumbling and scattering within their personal abode, even March is able to hear several cusses from behind their rooms. While waiting for the first person to open their sliding door, she leans her back towards the Express's interior, gazing towards the sight of the galaxy, as well as the Xianzhou Luofu they docked on.

A sharp exhale was heard a few long moments after, her head instinctively turning towards the noise to reveal a tall male with dark hair, slightly disarrayed, his traditional earrings dangle from his movement, adjusting his white jacket, encrusted with a traditional yet modern design as his eyes dart around.

Looking with a sense of urgency outside his room, before laying his eyes upon the sleepy, pinked haired girl whose attire was still of sleep wear.

His eyes narrow to her, his legs bringing him to the individual who yelled and disrupted their sleep. “March—” An interruption ensued, two more doors sliding open simultaneously, displaying two grey haired disorganized individuals.

I can't believe that worked. She then shifted her attention attention towards the three with the signature smug grin creeping up in her lips.

“Rise and shine sleepyheads! Mr. Yang needs us, so hop to it!” She hummed in amusement clasping her hands together momentarily, not elaborating further as she lowers her hands, skipping cheerfully with satisfaction as she proceeds towards her own bunker, planning to ready herself in the process, and sliding the door to close it, leaving the three in a state of complete deep, utter confusion and disbelief.

“W-What about the chug fest...?” Stelle mumbled out in confusion moments after the silence, her tone clearly baffled as she witnesses March walk to her own room, leaving her in a daze as she then steps outside her cabin, her legs bringing her towards Dan Heng.

“Good game.” The grey haired man follows suit, rubbing his adam's apple with a wry, bitter smile.

Dan Heng clears his throat, his dilating, green irises, gazing towards March's door, beginning to speak. “I have no knowledge to give, but uh, I have discerned you two arrived more late, so...” He hummed with a relief of victory, his index and thumb rubbing his nose bridge, leaning his back against the Express' wall behind him, a sigh escaping his lips.

“F- Fuck!” The grey haired man, slumped to his knees as he crouches down, his hands gripping his fluffy locks, yelling at the top of his lungs, his voice's volume along with the dread on his voice, echoing through the corridor as his twin, swiftly moving her right, gloved hand to her mouth, seemingly wanting to puke, lowering her gaze to the floor as her eyes dilate.

Both of their golden eyes, dulling. Sharing a look of dread, their eyes telling a traumatizing tale involving Miss Himeko's brown liquid—or coffee, as she called it.

“What did March do now...” Mr. Yang mumbled to himself, having heard a slight commotion in the cabins while setting his cane onto the table, adjusting his gloved left hand.

Dan Heng's gaze lowered to the poor man slumped onto the floor, seemingly chanting something under his breath while the other grey haired girl whose face was dulled and filled with dread, crouches beside Dan Heng, letting the wall behind her back to support her.

“You two have seemed to forgotten that Mr. Yang needed us as well, the situation doesn't make sense.” He spoke to them in his usual, monotonous voice. Perceptive and observant, Dan Heng had always been, as he tries to make do and assess the stage with the limited information that March provided him.

“No matter... Let us take our leave, Mr. Yang is presumably waiting for us outside just as March said.” He ushers to the two grey haired, bummed out individuals, walking towards the tall entrance to the main area of the express, his demeanor quite neutral—but if observed heavily with a keen eye, he was absolutely, most definitely nervous as bead of sweat dropped from his jawline.

“I-” The grey haired man looked over to Dan Heng leaving, his gaze then faltering towards his twin as a look of determination glints his eyes.

“I'm pretty sure I got out first.” He huffs insisting to her, standing back up, and crossing his arms, as he follows late behind Dan Heng, whom was already out in the main area. Her eyes widened as she hoisted herself back up with her hands, her head facing towards Caelus' behind.

“HEY!” She yelled in disbelief, scurrying and jogging towards him, her gaze unwavering to him, now proceeding to argue over a non-existent problem that March staged for them as they venture outside from the corridor.

March then shortly after, slid her door open to the side, looking around to check if they're still within the now empty hall, before humming with a degree of accomplishment as closes her door, skipping in delight after and following the group of three behind a little late.

The group and a pink haired girl now visible behind them as she closes the entrance to their cabin, are now met with the piercing, brown gaze of Mr. Yang. He was confused as to why their faces grimaced while March's was had her usual lively demeanor, he furrowed his eyebrows at them, pointing his cane towards their direction—or rather March's direction.

“March, what was that shriek earlier.” His tone firmed, eyes narrowed to her.

“We're uh, ready for... for the... chug fest?” She spoke with dread as her face showed visible a grimace, leaving the tall, old figure more so confused as March tried to hold back laughter.

“Chug... fest?”

“W-Well... You said make haste Mr. Yang...” March responded with a playful expression on her face as she rubbed the back of her hair.

With a long sigh, the tall, brown haired figure taps the hilt of his cane down to the floor once, the firm and loud noise following suit, grabbing the attention of group in four as he exerts a serious and calm demeanor.

“You four, our presence is needed in the Luofu as per request of the Seat of The Divine Foresight, Jing Yuan himself.” Dan Heng flinched, his eyes dilating upon hearing a familiar name as a sharp sensation filled his head, causing him to reach out and massage his nose bridge, stepping back from the group momentarily.

His expression faltered into a grimace, looking away towards the window view of the Luofu, his mind, rendered in waves of memories, flooding him relentlessly.

Welt Yang's keen observations noticed his absence immediately, noticing the sorrow filled eyes of his as he walked away discreetly. He understood vaguely since way before about his mysterious past, but he didn't pry further into his life, and Dan Heng was grateful for that.

“Dan Heng?” March questioned, noticing shortly after, looking around as her eyes land upon the disarrayed dark haired man, the twins, silent and looking back to him as well.

“March, it's okay, let him be.” Welt reassured, his spectacles briefly looking towards Dan Heng before returning his gaze to the group once again. Welt cleared the sudden, uncomfortable air, clearing his throat to gain back the attention of the three again.

“I apologize for waking all of you in this time of light, but it is quite urgent. I haven't received details as to why they need us at this time, however...” The brown haired man's voice trails off as he turns his head to look towards the docks of the Luofu.

“Basing from the situation within the Xianzhou Alliance, as well as the recent mission Caelus and Stelle did, it is safe to assume that this is most likely about the group, Sanctus Medicus again.”

“What the heck are they up to now?!” March huffed with a cute frown, scratch her hair in confusion and attempting to follow the conversation.

“But... Didn't we—or Caelus and Stelle gain information from them already? What gives this time?” She continued, her head turning towards the twins, tilting her head to the side.

Welt nodded, his right hand rubbing his chin as he pondered momentarily, seconds before relaying a response.

“You'd be correct, we did give the Realm-Keeping Commission valuable information, however... Dan Shu herself had ultimately escaped, I assume something happened, had it only been a few days since the mission.” He stated, lowering his hand beside him in idle.

“Nonetheless, we are still needed,” je continued, now facing his body towards the stairs up towards the exit.

“We shouldn't keep the commission waiting, let's go trailblazers.” He spoke over to his shoulder, before facing and walking towards the exit of the Astral Express.

March and the still-confused groggy twins follow suit behind Mr. Yang towards the exit, making their way towards Cloudford's Skiff Boarding Area as Dan Heng was left behind with his thoughts and his fragmented memories, continuing to haunt him while a seething sensation throbbed in his head.

“...So no coffee?” Caelus said, his voice mixed with a confusion and uncertainty as March's snickering follows suit.

The rising sun threatens your eyes, its rays indicating another day of living.

You just got out from your bed while the sunrise's radiant glow shone inside your apartment's chambers, with you, having only a few hours of sleep that you managed to get.

Blinking away the grogginess your hazy lids, you forcibly brought your sore, and bruised body towards the contents of your bathroom, doing your quick and hygienic routine, and since you already washed yourself from the eventful night that happened just a few hours ago.

“Nnn,” you were already quite ready for work, not before trying to cover up your bruises around your face and arms with an alchemy commission specialty beauty liquid that you can put anywhere with safety—or so the sales woman claimed.

You figured, on days like this whereas you encountered such skillful opponents that causes your body and flesh to-well... look absolutely battered up, this 'make-up' as they call it, would be able to hide your marks from the nightly battles you kept getting yourself into.

After covering up several discolored injuries that were obvious, (surprisingly with accumulated skill from your constant use of the liquid foundation).

Roughly 40 minutes left. You have time.

You stretched groaning, now dressing up and letting out a heavy, tired sigh as you walk over to your bed. “I'll see you tonight,” you reached down to your spear sighing, kissing the flat surface of the sharp tip, before making your way towards the outside of your residence.

You were met with the sight of your table and the sight Ambrosial Arbor's scenery as per usual, the golden leaves floating around showering the Exalting Sanctum exquisitely along with the sunrise's rays that shone all over your body. You didn't tire of the view as it had a calming effect that slowly washed your mental turmoil away, especially the events of the night that pursued.

Taking a few technical deep breaths, you pressed on towards the vendor behind your place, moving accordingly with your plans—me?

That's a poster of me, right? No? Yes? I-

You checked closer towards the wall just outside your entrance, your eyes squinted, scanning the plastered paper against the red wall.

It wasn't exactly you per say you thought, but rather... it was the color of your hair, a dark silhouette of a woman with a huge question mark on the face and your—“MY SPEAR?!” You choked on your saliva as you instinctively cover your mouth seconds after, grabbing the unintentional attention of several locals within hearing range in confusion, you then turn around to bow apologetically in a hurry before resuming your own tiny investigation.

Shit, why was your spear in the illustration?

Was your unorganized, panicked escape from yesterday from the General's sight the reason?

How much did he see? How much did he witness?

What did—Your racing thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your stomach crying for help, you were already lacking proper food intake, and now you're delaying the hope and savior of your organs? 'Pull yourself together' you thought to yourself, slapping your cheeks lightly and repeatedly as you proceeded to move your legs.

You shook your head in a daze, bringing your hand to your head as a growing headache ensues from your underlying stress, making your way towards the food stall just infront of the Exalting Sanctum's starskiff docks.

Your heart along with your mind continues to race, as you walk towards the vendor who was already eager and waiting for you, since you were her most loyal customer after all. The vendor immensely notices the visible distrsss in your face, as she began to speak, interrupting your train of thought again. “Miss? Lack of sleep again?” She spoke softly, assuming the usual, the bags under your eyes along with the look of distress, visible on your facial features.

“An all-nighter again... Don't worry.” You lied through your teeth, resuming this white, harmless lie as you continued to deprive yourself of sleep.

You worry that your body won't be able to keep up with your love of training and battle if you kept this up, you should really ask Dahao or Jingyan for a break if y—“The usual, miss?" Again, your worries get interrupted by the vendor's soft voice, snapping you out in your hazy, exhausted trance.

“A-Apologies, just the... and fried fish and immortal's delight this time.” You respond without missing a beat, you spoke a tad bit incoherently, slurring your words as the stress is getting to you, creeping up and affecting your body's performance as well.

You usually don't rely on this drink, but with recent events and your sleep deprivation, you started to become heavily reliant on it, yet you had no choice. “Cetainly,” The food vendor hummed, as the sounds of crackling and sizzling satisfied your eardrums, along with the welling up scent of the food you had ordered begin to create an air of delicious aroma around you and the stall.

A tired yawn escapes your mouth, waiting for the food in preparation.

You decide to do the stretches for your body that you forgot earlier, you were not about to lose the hardwork you've put on your body.

The sight was already normal to the vendor, except at first of course.

That being the case, your ears perked up, hearing a starskiff past by and dock into the Exalting Sanctum, but you were too occupied from your stretching as your bare, right leg was now on top of the wooden railings, your whole body pressed against your leg as several voices are heard.

“WOAH! Look Stelle!” A certain high pitched voice rang through your keen ears in the distance, though you weren't sure if the hallucinations from your accumulated stress were finally setting in, or if you really did hear a lively, high pitched female voice.

The mention of you gained the slight attention of the two men behind the duo, as they part from the starskiff. You were a peculiar sight for four, as the pink haired girl's eyes shimmer at the sight of your impressive stretching.

“Your order's almost ready!” Your attention then was shortly called upon the vendor, your food and the immortal's drink, now visible at the wooden counter. “Ah, mhm.” You proceeded to do some final stretching, before cracking your neck and walking over towards the counter, the corners of your mouth seemingly moist as you take in the aroma of your food.

It had never smelled this good before, or was it the stress enhancing your senses?

The latter, definitely the latter.

Steps and mumured voices began to volume louder, finally getting your attention as you look over to the sources of the noise, your head tilting left towards the docks to the sight of two girls coming up to you up the stairs, the two men following behind as you were in the middle of partaking in your feast.

“Miss!” The girl in pink hair in her unsual yet cute blue attire, called out to you in the middle of munching.

“Hrmf?” Your mouth was full of your wrapped breakfast as your attention was sought towards the two girls.

They were definitely, definitely not from the Luofu, all of their attires were heavily different, in contrast to your custom made Xianzhou attire, a black dress, encrusted with golden accents and paired with golden accessories, you most definitely also stood out the rest of the locals, but hey, at least you were wearing familiar clothing, unlike these individuals that—“Hellooooo???”

You were interrupted by the sight of a small, fair-skinned palm, waving over your hazy eyes as you gulped your food down your throat and wiped the corners of your mouth with your thumb, you also notice the two men standing visibly tall in your line of sight behind the two girls.

“Ah,” you feel your cheeks grow slightly warm as all five individuals lay their gazes upon you with curious looks as you clear your throat.

“I-I apologize, what was that miss—?” You softly spoke in response to the little miss's call to you, tilting your head down to bow apologetically, your low, sultry voice had undertones of curiousity. It was obvious that you were tired and fatigued, the observant dark haired man along with the brown haired figure only took notice.

“I said—” The high pitched voice was then cut off by a hand to her shoulder, the hand belonging to a tall, brown haired man with a coat and cane, stepping forward from behind her.

At first glance he looked... quite young but his fanning lines and youthless features can be seen if you observed closely.

“March, let them take their time.” He spoke as his eyes scan your features, his gaze landing upon the covered up bruises along your cheeks and the injuries on your arms, he was curious, along with dark haired man whom also noticed simultaneously the bruises along your skin.

You felt their curious gazes linger to you, letting yourself get conscious and anxious about your form and appearance, your eyes dilating down to your snack in hand, lowering the food down below your chest.

You clear your throat, looking up and glance towards the tall figure towering over the two girls, along with you.

“Miss...—” He spoke again, delaying the S syllable sound as he awaits for your name.

With deep contemplation, you lowered your food towards the wooden counter to the side of you, the vendor idling about in her stall, busy with her preparations for the day as you face towards the fascinating group.

“Y/n. Y/fn. Please address me as so, it's a pleasure,” you spoke in response, placing your right hand on your chest, tilting your body downwards to bow down.

In all honesty, this was the first time in a long while that you interacted with anyone else besides your colleagues at the Realm-Keeping Commission, and the criminals you've been occasionally encountering, you had no idea what to do, so perhaps, a simple bow will do the trick, and that it did.

Your hair fell forward from your shoulders as you tilted your body, lowering your head and closed gaze towards the floor.

You were elegant. “Pretty... Miss—We haven't seen you around before! Who are you by the way?” She said cheerily, her sparkling gradient eyes continued to stare in curiousity as she brought her hands to her hips.

The rest of the group were most definitely intrigued by your sudden appearance near the docks, though—they were right, they haven't seen you around before that's one, and you most certainly were unintentionally displaying a level of intrgue and elegance, based on your 'awkward' movements that you thought were in your head.

You tilt your head up, your gaze landing on her momentarily, before shifting your body back up straight again, observing the other figures around her.

“I work—...” You straighten yourself. “I work within the Realm-Keeping Commission. Y/fn at your service.” Your hand remained on your chest, as you continued your introduction towards the group.

“And... I want to ask, who might be the group before me? Your clothing ehm, all of your attires don't make you look like locals here at all.” You continued, lowering your hands to the same level as your thighs, interlacing your fingers in a moment of your masked anxiousness.

A silence followed your question, you noticing their body language as they straighten their backs, their gaze intensifying slightly towards you.

“Are you like—royalty y/n?” The cute, high pitched voice broke the anxiety inducing silence.

What?

“I'm- I'm afraid not...? Why the question miss—”

“You can call me March! And you look really photogenic too! You sh—” March cuts you off in her excitement, her eyes sparkling and glancing up to your reddening face, continuing to ramble about excitedly in your presence about photos and the Astral Express, though she gets shortly cut off after a few moments of her rambling by the grey haired man behind her.

Pretty eyes. You thought as your eyes glanced back and forth subtly to the both grey haired individuals. “March...” He said, reminding her of her rambling as she flinches to the call of her name, letting go of your hand, bowing repeatedly to you while apologizing frantically as you try to reassure her.

The grey haired girl then pulled March's hand behind her, leading her towards the back of the group as she mumbled with Stelle's gloved hand on her mouth, muffling her noises.

“I apologize for... March's liveliness Miss Y/n,” the man with the glasses coughed into his fist, clearing his throat and stepping to where March was previously were, catching your attention again.

“Prior to your question... We are from the Astral Express,” your ears twitched upon hearing their origins, you have most definitely heard about the existence famous train that wonders through the galaxy, but you definitely did not expect to meet them in your lifetime like this, in this situation.

“In truth be told, we were on our way towards the Realm-Keeping Commission as well, via business per say, and... you call me—” He paused, pondering to himself, shifting his stance before clearing his throat.

“Welt, Welt Yang. A member of the Astral Express.” Welt tilted his head down slightly in respect, shortly after returning your gaze as your lips curl into faint, warm smile.

“First name basis alrea—mmfh!?” Stelle covers her mouth frantically, gaining the other eyes of the other members, quickly dart to March's direction in amusement, except for the dark haired man, his stern gaze piercing March.

“Mmfgp—!!” March squealed as the twins then pulled her by the wrist, towards the food vendor, perhaps to hush her down with food.

“You really need to read the situation sometimes dumbass.” Caelus said, holding back a laughter of amusement, reduced to a faint smirk.

With the noise of clearing his throat, Welt brings his hand up to his face, his fingers adjusting his glasses back onto his nose bridge, and you notice, under his spectacles is a faint, tint of red, swelling up in his cheeks as he cleared his throat in his embarassment.

Your eyes once again, land on Stelle and the twins near the wooden counter, then realizing your food had gone slightly cold, thus beginning to reach out for your wrapped up breakfast again, food held in hand, quite amused and curious at the situation.

Your felt your own cheeks grow hot as you munched on your almost finished breakfast, this was the first time in awhile you've interacted with many this way after all, and you felt Caelus' and Welt's gazes from your peripheral vision, continuing to eye you with a faint tint of pink in their own skin as well.

Ah. Wait. The Astral Express? In the Luofu? A request from the Realm-Keeping Commission?

Ah—The Cloud General's request from last night.

Shit, was it about me? Was it about something else? W-Wait! These- These twins... Jingyan mentioned them I think...?

You tighten your hold on your wrapped food subconsciously, your mind continued to race, the two keen observers of the Astral Express noticed your changed demeanor, your eyes dilating slightly towards the grey haired girl, the grey haired man walking towards the two as a dread creeps up within you.

“Miss Y/n?” You flinch, your deafening train of thought is cut off by the sound of a deep, aged voice, your eyes quickly darting to the man with the glasses towering over you with a look of concern.

“A-Ah, uhm,” you attempt to steer clear of your negative thoughts as you try to compose yourself infront of the tall figure before you.

You did nothing wrong, you and the members of the Astral Express just quite literally met, there's nothing to worry about.

...But why would the Seat of the Divine Foresight request them? Why are they needed?

No, they have more pressing matters. Yeah, of course. The Ambrosial Arbor problem. Mhm.

Your mind wandered back to the conversation of the Cloud General, trying to remember exact words from him as you—“Miss Y/N...” You snap out of it, a soft yelp escaping your mouth as you flinch, hearing his voice call out to you again, only to then feel all of their gazes on you, worried and concerned.

“It is not my place to pry but... Are you alright Miss Y/n?” Welt asked, his gaze softening as he glances to your contusions and marks all over your arms and your bruised, callused hands.

“I didn't want to bring it up, but I have noticed your physical state of being as well as your... exhaustion,” he says with utmost concern as Caelus steps forward beside him hearing his concern as the two men notice your refined, callus hands especially, though you had a feeling the other man was eyeing other things of your figure, respectfully, probably.

They were curious of you, they certainly were aware that those were not normal hands, it was callused, it was refined relentlessly and endlessly, and it was red with marks.

You had the hands of a highly skilled fighter, and it was obvious to the two experienced individuals.

The both of them had an unspoken understanding of their curiousity towards you, you had an air of mystery and slight danger for the two men as the others didn't notice, but him, not Welt Yang.

You were an oblivious expert in hiding your identity from the duality of your personality, oblivious by being unaware that being true to yourself is already deterring gazes and suspicions from you, and that was a trait that a vast majority, along with the Arbiter General himself, wishes it wasn't implemented to your whole being.

Except, your healing wounds were fresh from the fight against Dan Shu, Zhixin and several other mara-strucked Cloud Knights with them, your expertly covered up bruises, cuts and gashes weren't noticable to the other three from the skillful cover up over your discoloration, but not to the veteran, not at all.

It was the first thing Welt Yang noticed when March called out to you as you were stretching previously too.

“I-...” You take a deep, panicked breath, trying to compose yourself as you hastily bring your hands behind you, resting on your rear, lowering your gaze to the floor not knowing what to do as you fiddle with your fingers anxiously.

The two men took note of your behavior, your body language and your expression, though their thought process wasn't as deep as you thought it was.

“I apologize for making you uncomfortable Miss Y/n, we can assure you that we- we mean no harm.” Welt spoke to you, adjusting his coat as he shifts uncomfortably in his stance before continuing.

“It's just—” He gets cut off by the alarm of your phone, buzzing inside your dress's pockets, flinching as your hands scatter to it to turn it off.

Shit, you were late, even after waking early, you hadn't realize how much time passed just from this interaction.

Your face grimaces as you lower your phone, looking frantically to the other three individuals, your eyes landing on your immortal's delight drink placed on the wooden counter, before returning your gaze to Welt.

“I-I'm sorry Mr. Yang, duty calls,” you quickly bow, lowering your red, pretty face to him, before tilting your body back up to grab your drink from the counter, bolting away from the group hurriedly as you make your way towards the Realm-Keeping Commission office.

Absolutely thankful for the Aeons who interrupted—or aligned the stars into your favor from uncomfortable situation.

“W-Wait—Ah.” Caelus reached out, and stopped in his tracks as you bolted, sighing disappointedly, his golden irises having a look tinge of admiration and regret as he watches your back.

“Mmhf-? Whafsdafallabouf?” The high pitched voice said incoherently, her mouth stuffed with snacks as she walks towards the baffled tall figure, adjusting his glasses as he cleared his throat.

Caelus and Stelle huddled up around the girl with the blue attire as they look towards the direction you sprinted swiftly with slight concern and confusion in their faces.

“I-I believe... Miss Y/N had to go urgently, and speaking of which,” he turned his head towards the group, his gaze stern and calculative, placing his cane towards his side.

“We need to move, I'm sure we've kept Miss Jingyan and Mr. Dahao enough,” he stated, beginning to walk inside the Court of Tranquility along its marbled pavements, as the rest of the Astral Express follow suit behind him.

“He- Hey wait!” March exclaimed after gulping down her food.

“Aren't we also going to meet up with her again? She said she worked in the Realm-Keeping Commission as well didn't she?” She said excitedly as Stelle wiped the corners of her mouth, dusting off crumbs of fried bits.

“Stop talking with your mouth full... You look like that one little creature with the puffy cheeks you see eating nuts.” Caelus snickered in his usual stern tone, walking beside his twin as the group continued to make their way towards the office.

His eyes glimmered at the thought of meeting you again in all honesty, who stretches so impressively early into the daylight, who had healing bruises wounds from battles assumingly, and someone who seemed so elegant and mysterious just popping out of no where?

You, you did, and air that coated around you was thick with mystery and allure, intriguing the two men.

You were both in Welt Yang's and Caelus' thoughts, in deep skepticism as they continued to pondered about your wounds and covered up injuries.

They immediately knew you had fighting experience based on their observations, but they were in a stalemate as to why and how it happened to you.

You were a stranger to the Astral Express after all, and the air of your mysteriousness was heavy, the same level as how the Ambrosial Arbor came to fruition within the Exalting Sanctum so suddenly.

“She was really pretty though.” Caelus hummed with a faint smirk, suddenly breaking the comfortable silence as they walk around the lotus plaza, his hands behind his head as he raised his arms to the side, thinking of your presence.

His sudden comment caused Welt to flinch slightly, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Of course someone like you would say that Caelus...” March responded, rolling her eyes as Stelle kept March close to her, silently attentive as the girl in a blue school uniform continued to eat.

He sighs dramatically. “I didn't even get to speak to her a lot though,” Caelus groaned, ruffling his hair in frustration as he continued to think about you.

“Oh shupf upf! Not our fault you continued to hesitate! You'll see herf againmf!” March exclaimed with her mouth full, as she continued to eat her snack.

In essence, the priority of your appearance and of your attractiveness was far back in Welt's list of worries and priorities for him, Welt, but when Caelus mentioned it, he couldn't help but think back to you in another light.

It was nothing serious, but it was definitely an unspoken agreement to his statement. He felt his cheeks grow slightly warm.

“Mm,” hs tinting cheeks come to a halt, as your figure coming into their line of sight, whilst you talked to Guangda (Realm-Keeping Orderly) in a hurry, leaving his thoughts in a slightly disorganized mess.

After greeting the guard outside, you opened the door to the office, swinging the door open with your labored breath, intertwining with the cold air of the office.

You were greeted with Jingyan's usual look of tiredness and disapproval despite her eerie, professional smile.

“Oh? There she is.” Songyan, your desk neighbor colleague hummed in amusement, causing your expression to grimace slightly in annoyance as you hastily walk to your desk full of scrolls and paperwork.

“Jingyan! It's been more than a week or so since the start of her tardiness, Y/N's been arriving late often now!" He continued, adjusting his glasses, looking towards the womanly official, the pillar of the Realm-Keeping Commission, complaining about you.

The woman with the eerie, professional smile then opened her eyes towards Songyan, her gaze unsettling and exhausted as she looks towards him with a glare.

“I shall remind you once more, Songyan,” she stifled to click her tongue. “She does more work and labor than you by 50%.” She said, her sinister smile remaining as her eyes glinted to him.

As if her glare was trying to say 'Leave me alone, or I'll fire you this instant.' Causing him to flinch at her gaze.

Rolling your eyes from the conversation Songyan instigated, you set your drink on the side, nestling in your seat as you begin to try and tend to your work, blocking out the noises within the office, your eyes hovering tiredly.

Eyes trailing, leading upon a specific sea of information that the people of the Exalting Sanctum have been submitting; noise complaints every night, a dark silhouette moving along the shadows under the moonlit darkness, someone spotting a female figure fighting mara-strucked soldiers in Cloudford, and unfortunately, many more that's related to the things you've been doing, only then finally realizing the severity of your accumulated actions.

Aeons, maybe it was because you've been absolutely tired? Sleep deprived? The drastic, negative turn of your diet and lesser food intake?

“Shit man,” You cussed under your breath, slumping your head over the table, the position you're in causes your eyes to instinctively feel more drowsy, your eyelids growing weak, fluttering your eyes close, struggling to stay conscious.

You were weak, your body was certainly not used to this unhealthy routine from years of doing the opposite. Your eyes flutter close, the cold, comfortable office air that smelled of paper and scrolls, envelopes you in your deserved slumber.

Jingyan and Dahao, the two main officials of the Realm-Keeping Orderly, let you rest, noticing your sleep deprived state that had been more frequent since the past week.

They know you work harder than anyone else, on par with Jingyan herself, they let you be as you doze off into your dreamland.

A few minutes after you began to nap, several voices are heard outside the main entrance, swinging open to reveal the Astral Express crew, yet you were in deep slumber despite their liveliness.

“Ah, the express crew.” Jingyan greeted, looking over to the familiar people that had helped them in several occasions.

“The Arbiter General is requesting your presence, The master diviner; Lady Fu Xuan is also waiting for you in the Alchemy Commission, but I shall momentarily lay several details of what's been happening at the moment,” she said, moving towards the surveillance footage area, sifting through a few videos before landing on a specific one—that had your hair flowing freely under the moonlight and the dim lighting of the warm colored lamps as you made your hasty escape into the night hours ago.

The group followed shortly after her movement, beginning to survey and observe the footage that was currently playing. “...What are we looking at exactly?” March said in her questioning tone, her confused gaze glancing back and forth towards her crew and Jingyan herself.

Thank the stars and Aeons for the dark night, your silhouette and face were very hard to determine despite the advancements of the Xianzhou's technology.

You were just a dark, female figure with an elegant looking spear, but that was bad—their options were been definitely dialed down to female suspects, you were still safe, for now.

“May we ask for context Miss Jingyan?” Welt stepped forward to the screen, analyzing the moving image of you, along with the rest of the crew.

Jingyan nodded, showing a few more clips of your hasty escape in the dark, your expert movement catching the eyes of the Astral Express almost immediately. “W-Whoa... She's really quick...” March exclaimed, bringing her hands to her lips to cover it in her surprise.

“...And really cool.” Caelus mumbled under his breath smirking with his arms crossed, his golden gaze "studying" the footage showing, the same goes for Welt.

“The... Arbiter General encountered—or... found someone near the docks to his office as he was walking towards the seat of the Divine Foresight.”

She paused, her fingers tapping and the screen reveals Jing Yuan and his Cloud Knight, talking to each other for a few minutes, it was normal at first, not seeing anything amiss, but then the next few sequences of the footage shows Jing Yuan's attention being caught, as he looks around for what seems to be something.

It caught the crew's interest in a blink in an eye.

The Arbiter General proceeded to go out the line of sight from the camera as—“Darn! Where did he go off to?” March spoke the rest of the crew's thoughts as her voice broke the slight concentration of everyone reviewing the footage.

“The General told me he heard... noises that I will not elaborate further.” Jingyan feigned a wry, cold smile, firm on her decision as she saw March's mouth part to question and immediately retracting back her words and her finger, putting her hands behind her back.

The two men's interests were piqued, confused by her statement, but they didn't have the chance to dwell on their thoughts as Jingyan continued to speak.

“The General had witnessed a spear tip of a silver, crystal-like blade in her escape, he saw when it got hit by moonlight, the blade would illuminate around her and her surroundings.

It was one of two things that he only saw from the scene as she quickly fled.” Jingyan finishes, her professional gaze serious and unwavering as she glances to the surveillance footage of you.

“So-...” March spoke up first from the silence and processing of the vague yet key information of your being, but she then gets cut off by Welt, as he adjusted his spectacles back to his nose bridge.

“Then... Miss Jingyan, what seems to be the problem?” He spoke in his serious tone, his eyes returning Jingyan's as she began to spoke in reply.

“If you are all unaware, there had been a mysterious person who have been apprehending criminals of all kinds and delivering them into the center of the lotus plaza every night, and Cloud Knights would find them tied up, beaten up and unconscious.” She said as her fingers tap again onto the surveillance screen, showing the lotus area of the Court of Tranquility.

The center of the plaza would be seen, along with the two individuals who were tied up, revealing your dark silhouette, your hair and spear illuminating in the darkness as you drag the tied up, unconscious Cloud Knight—“HUH.”

Both the twins yell before hastily bringing their gloved hands to their mouth, grabbing the attention of Dahao, Songyan and the rest of the workers in the commission, though you were still in your deep sleep, your desk was tucked in the corner after all, not noticing you at all.

The twins recognize the unconscious body you were placing in the center of the plaza, moving and inching closer to the screen, trying to analyze you closer as their eyes squint simultaneously, but to no avail.

Your illuminated hair were luckily covering the right spots of your features, and the darkness of the night didn't help them visualize you either.

The silhouette stretches in the footage, then a sequence of you making your hasty escape follows after, and the most noticable thing was only your spear—a beautifully crafted spear.

It was their only clue. Their eyes were drawn and focused on your weapon as you held it close to you in your escape.

Curious eyes observing on the length and size of your black spear as gold lighting or vein marks decorated the bottom of your spear and upwards, as the moon shone on your blade, there was an obvious crystal like main part in the middle, and the other two were downed in size, curved to the opposite of its direction.

It was radiating with elegance and intrigue.

Reminding them of someone they stumbled to as of recent.

Jingyan, and the rest of the express cree can't help but focus on who the spear wielder was as your spear enveloped with the nightly breeze, continuing to create an enigmatic riddle and for them to solve.

Welt Yang then cleared his throat, clearing the tense silence once again as he looked over towards Jingyan, his eyes serious and calculative.

“The unconscious body... is from Sanctus Medicus, correct Miss Jingyan?" He asked, glancing back to the footage again.

Before she had a chance to reply, she was cut off by Caelus, “B-But... but how? How did she- How did they... What the hell?” He said with an obvious dilemma, Stelle's expression mirroring the look of defeat on her twin's face as she crosses her arms with one hand towards her face, her index and thumb rubbing the bridge of her nose.

Their look of defeat were understandable as March tried to comfort them with chuckling as her face secreted sweat, her hands patting both of their backs as her gaze returns to the repeating footage of you dragging their unconscious bodies.

“Jing Yuan is certain that she'd had been the one delivering us criminals in the darkness for several years-” Welt, and the other three's ears perk up.

“Several... years.” He repeated almost immediately, sighing, his brows furrowing, rubbing his thumb along his cane.

The twins then were taken towards the seating area by March, as they wallowed in defeat, their dulled expressions lowering to the floor as March continued to comfort them both.

“So, It's safe to say she's a registered citizen of the Xianzhou Luofu, her attire... is different yet familiar.” He inspected the silhouette of your whole being, narrowing his eyes to the hologram footage.

“Precisely, we've already narrowed it down only to; Female, a Xianzhou Luofu resident, and someone from the Exalting Sanctum.” Jingyan responded, laying out the facts that have been confirmed prior to this.

“But... What seems to be the problem?” Welt stepped in, his brown eyes returning to the footage of you before continuing,

“You said that she'd had been... fighting against criminals and delivering them to you for a few years now. Isn't that good Miss Jingyan?” He said, bringing up his hand to his chin, his mind racing in deep thought.

Jingyan also pondered to herself deeply as well, but before she could respond, Dahao walked up behind them.

“That may be the case Mr. Yang,” he'd step in.

“but this... person figure fought a 100 year old former Cloud Knight, and apprehended the two formiddable oppresors that we, the Realm-Keeping Commission, as well as the whole Alliance also had trouble dealing with for a good amount of time.” Dahao then looked towards the footage of you making your hasty, skillful escape, showing the part of your visible elegant spear, his expression turning more serious.

“She is a formiddable... that is without a doubt, and someone dangerous like her is roaming around the Xianzhou Luofu. What makes it difficult is that, she isn't a former Cloud Knight as well as her fighting style heavily differs to the training regiments of ours, and we aren't aware of her intentions at all.” He said glancing towards the two men who were listening intently.

Welt Yang had started to realize the seriousness of the situation, as his expressions mirrored his serious and stern features. “The General himself as well as the Realm-Keeping Commission realizes of her good deeds, but despite our priorities... we have been also trying for years to get ahold of her, just so we could interrogate her of her questionable actions.” Dahao continued, as the Welt nodded.

“So, the Cloud General, would like to request us to perhaps... get ahold of her whereabouts?” Welt said, his right hand firmed to his cane, quite determined as he, himself was confused by your intentions to do so.

Baffled as his mind continued to wander, he was thinking as to why this person would go such lengths for several years, doing this especially in hiding.

Your intentions did not make sense to the veteran, there had to be more to it.

You, doing this occasionally often whenever you can, for several years, without showing yourself and remained in hiding, for what?

Why wouldn't you want to take credit?

Why wouldn't you want to be known for your great deeds that was helping the Luofu itself?

Especially now once you encountered and brought one of the main problems that the Luofu was experiencing when it came to mara-stricken individuals or victims of the deathly disease.

“That would be ideal Mr. Yang, but as Jingyan previously mentioned, the General had requested your presence in the Alchemy Commission, regarding a serious situation about Sanctus Medicus.” Dahao paused, grimacing as he lowered her gaze, crossing his arms.

��The situation... is absolutely bizarre, our Xianzhou troops were more ways in one formiddable, yet we struggle in heavy amounts.”

Dahao then faced Welt, his eyes full of worry. “We shouldn't keep you waiting guests of the General. Lady Fu Xuan is assumingly in the midst of dealing with the situation right now.” He continued, bowing down, as Welt did the same, calling upon his fellow crew members before setting their destination towards a new, trifling and dangerous adventure that awaited them.

The Luofu already had a lot in their plate, dealing with a re-kindled battle against the phantom ways of the old, against the people who pledged to the Abundance, to continuous mara-struck cases, to the Sanctus Medicus finally acting out in hiding.

The Luofu was a devastating mess, and your mysteriousness just added an unnecessary layer stress and uneasiness, all caused by the flames of desire to wield your dearly beloved spear against a foe, deemed formiddable of it.

You were an existence that had yet to be solved, to the four crew members of the Astral Express, the Xianzhou Alliance, and the rest of the Realm-Keeping commission. Not knowing that you were here, in the office, in the same room as them and your worried coworkers, dozing off your fatigue and stress away.

And they all wanted to solve you.

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