Azaradan
The Feast Night
The ceremonial hall throbbed with life.
Drums beat in soothing patterns while harps hummed gentle melodies through the air, but even music could not overpower the noise of victorious soldiers. Their laughter rang from wall to wall, rough and bright and alive. Stories were retold louder with every cup of wine. Every table had a whole barbecued goat, platters piled high, and enough drinks to drown even the most painful memory of battle.
It was a tradition.
A reward.
One of the many reasons the warriors of Azaradan fought so hard and returned from bloodshed with smiles still intact.
High above them all, on a raised stage, sat King Bukka and General Qin, with a perfect view of the celebration below. It was impossible not to feel proud. Their army was unmatched. Their people adored them.
And tonight, victory was sweet.
King Bukka leaned back on his throne, his goblet resting lazily in one hand as he studied the soldiers below.
"You know, Qin," he said, "when you first told me about Captain Kro, I never believed you. I thought you had gone mad."
Qin stood beside him, hands folded behind his back.
The king chuckled to himself. "That only made me more curious about what the witch really told you two decades ago."
Qin did not look at him.
"I already told you," he replied evenly. "She said Kro would always be the key to our victory. I didn't believe her either. But when we defeated the Thunder Tribe, everything became clear."
It was a lie.
And Qin knew it.
But it was one he had repeated often enough to make it sound almost harmless.
The king took another sip of wine, though his expression remained thoughtful.
"I know I shouldn't say this," Bukka said slowly, "but I've noticed the way you train her. Harder than everyone else."
Qin remained silent.
"I understand she is your captain," the king continued, "but it goes beyond that. However strong she is, however useful she has become… she is still a woman."
That made Qin glance at him at last.
"I know what I'm doing, Bukka. You only need to trust me, just as you did twenty years ago."
The king sighed. "I do trust you, Qin. More than anyone in this kingdom. Which is exactly why it hurts when I feel you're hiding something from me."
Qin's jaw tightened.
"Are you preparing Kro for some kind of special mission?" Bukka asked.
For the briefest moment, Qin's heart stumbled.
His face did not betray him fully, but his gaze flickered.
He had not expected that question.
Not tonight.
Not from Bukka.
Fortunately, before the king could press further, a royal messenger rushed toward the stage and dropped to his knees.
"My king, forgive me," he panted. "I received news too late. The Crown Prince will arrive at the harbor any moment now."
Both men looked at him.
"All the soldiers are here," the messenger continued, trembling with shame. "And no guard outside can leave his post. What should we do?"
King Bukka rose halfway from his throne in irritation.
"How irresponsible of you! My son cannot travel alone to the palace. He needs an escort. We'll end this feast at once—"
"There's no need for that," Qin interrupted.
The king looked at him.
Qin's gaze had already settled on someone in the crowd.
"We have a one-man army for this task," he said. "Someone who can do it effortlessly."
Bukka followed the direction of his stare.
There, among the soldiers, sat Kro.
She was laughing quietly at a joke from one of the men at her table, one hand holding a cup, the other resting easily at her side. She looked completely at ease—yet there was something about her that made the king pause.
Because even in laughter, she never seemed fully ordinary.
...
The Harbor Road
The Crown Prince, Buk, stepped off the boat dressed as a commoner. He was tall and broad-shouldered, a man who might have looked imposing if not for the obvious tension in every movement he made. A black mask covered half his face, leaving only his brown, sharp eyes visible. A large bag hung from his back, and he clutched it with quiet desperation.
He had been gone from Azaradan for nearly ten years. Ten years was enough time for a kingdom to change. But in his mind, Azaradan remained exactly as he had left it—safe, disciplined, untouched by street crime or lurking danger.
So as he made his way down the moonlit road toward the palace, he felt oddly comforted.
The breeze was cool.
The night was calm.
The silence almost felt welcoming.
He even allowed himself to think, Perhaps nothing has changed after all.
Then he noticed the shadows.
Or rather—he noticed them too late.
By the time he took the forest shortcut toward the palace, five men dressed in black had already surrounded him.
Each held a weapon.
Swords. Knives. Clubs.
The prince froze.
This was not the homecoming he had imagined.
"DROP THE BAG!" the leader barked.
The Crown Prince's eyes widened. His hands shot up at once.
"You—you don't know what I'm carrying in this bag," he stammered.
"GET ON YOUR KNEES!"
He obeyed instantly.
Hands still raised, he dropped to the cold earth without a moment's hesitation.
The leader gestured to two men.
"Take it."
They moved toward him.
But then—
Two arrows sliced through the darkness. One pierced a man's shoulder. The other tore through a leg. Both men screamed and crumpled to the ground.
The forest fell into sudden chaos.
The remaining three men spun wildly, trying to see where the attack had come from. Even the prince looked around, though his fear had become so intense that it was difficult to tell whether he was breathing at all.
"WHO ARE YOU?" the leader shouted into the trees. "SHOW YOURSELF!"
No answer came.
His panic deepened.
He grabbed the prince by the shoulder, yanked him upright, and pressed a sword against his neck. The prince nearly stopped breathing.
Tears rushed to his eyes before he could stop them.
"IF YOU DON'T COME OUT," the man screamed into the dark, "I'LL KILL HIM! I'LL CUT HIS HEAD OFF RIGHT NOW!"
The prince began crying openly.
"PLEASE!" he shouted hoarsely. "SHOW YOURSELF! THEY'LL KILL ME!"
Footsteps emerged from the trees.
Slow.
Measured.
Unhurried.
Every head turned.
And then Kro stepped into the moonlight.
Her bow rested across her back. Her face was calm. Her hands were folded behind her as though she had merely arrived to settle a small inconvenience.
The three men stared at her.
Then laughed.
"A woman?" the leader said between bursts of mocking laughter. "It was you?"
He scanned the darkness behind her.
"Where's the man who's actually helping you?"
Kro tilted her head slightly.
"I was enjoying my evening," she said. "And I'd like to get back to it. So let's make this easy." Her eyes moved from one face to the next. "Let the man go and leave."
"Says who?" one of them sneered.
"Says me."
"We refuse."
"Suit yourself."
She walked toward them.
Just like that.
No fear.
No hesitation.
That alone unsettled them more than her arrows had.
Weapons were raised instantly.
"If you take one more step, both of you die," the leader warned, tightening his sword at the prince's throat.
Unfortunately for him, he moved closer while threatening her.
Closer was exactly where Kro wanted him.
Her hand curled into a fist.
Then she struck.
Her fist slammed into the bridge of his nose with such brutal precision that the crack echoed in the night. Blood burst across his face and splattered onto the ground. The leader howled and staggered backward.
The other two rushed forward.
Kro drew the dagger from behind her armor in one smooth motion and leaped at the nearest man, driving the blade hard into his shoulder bone. His scream ripped through the forest.
The last man swung his bat toward her head.
She ducked beneath it, pivoted, and drove the heel of her palm into his ribs. The force of the blow folded him instantly. He collapsed, gasping, clutching his side like his body had been split in two.
Silence followed.
Then groaning.
Kro stood in the middle of them all, breathing steadily, looking around at the five men writhing on the forest floor as though admiring a completed task.
To her, it was deeply satisfying.
She slid the dagger back into place and blew away the strand of hair that had fallen across her eye.
Then she turned to the prince.
She extended her hand. But instead of taking it, Buk simply stared at her. The entire fight had unfolded beyond reason.
A moment earlier he had been preparing for death. Now he was looking at a woman who had appeared from the darkness and destroyed five armed men as if swatting flies.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice filled with awe.
"My name is Kro," she said. "The king sent me to escort you."
Her hand remained extended.
He blinked at her.
"No one here has seen me before. How did you know it was me?"
"I was at the harbor shortly before you arrived," she replied. "There is no way a man dressed like that could afford passage on that ship."
She looked at his clothes.
"So I knew you were disguised."
The prince's eyes widened.
"Even your instincts are mysterious."
Kro's expression did not change.
"I apologize for saying this," she said, "but if you're not going to take my hand, then stand up on your own and follow me. We should have been at the palace by now. I don't want the king to worry."
She gave a respectful bow, then turned and started walking.
It took the prince a second to recover.
Then he scrambled to his feet and hurried after her, staying close behind.
Very close.
As if the mere space around her had become the safest place in the world.
...
Present Time
Monday Morning
Ukraine's first day began with prayer.
He prayed while brushing his teeth.
Prayed while dressing.
Prayed while fixing his hair.
Prayed while riding to work.
And by the time he stood outside the door to the president's office, he was still praying that the day would somehow avoid disaster.
He knocked once.
"Come in," Kro said.
Ukraine entered and found her already prepared to leave. She looked sharp, composed, impatient—like someone who had begun working hours before everyone else.
"Right on time," she said. "Let's go."
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"To Krosmetics' main branch. You'll be handling tasks from there, so you need to know it well."
He nodded at once.
Kro led the way.
They crossed the hallway, entered the elevator, and headed outside to the waiting car. Kro sat in the back seat. Ukraine took the front, beside the driver.
The ride was quiet. Smooth. Neither Kro nor Ukraine spoke during the ride. The city slid past the windows as the car moved steadily through traffic.
Uneventful.
Until they arrived.
A cluster of customers stood waiting outside the main branch. The store was still closed. Kro checked her watch. Then clicked her tongue. Disappointment sharpened her face instantly.
"The store was supposed to open fifteen minutes ago," she said coldly.
Ukraine glanced down at the tablet in his hands and scrolled through the schedule.
"Do you want to move on to the next appointment first?" he suggested carefully.
"Why should I?" Kro replied without looking at him. "Everything will go according to the schedule."
She unbuckled her seatbelt.
"Let's go."
Kro stepped out of the car. Ukraine quickly followed behind her.
At the entrance, Kro pulled a card from her purse and swiped it across the security panel. The doors unlocked with a soft click.
She turned toward the waiting customers.
"I apologize for the delay," she said calmly. "Everyone who shops here today will receive a five percent discount on their purchases."
The customers exchanged pleased looks. That was more than enough compensation. Within seconds, they walked inside the store chatting excitedly.
Kro slipped the card back into her purse and entered the building. Without hesitation, she headed straight toward the manager's office.
As she walked through the store, the atmosphere shifted instantly. Employees who spotted her froze in panic. Within seconds, they scattered back to their stations, pretending to work as if their lives depended on it.
The manager never even saw her coming.
His office door suddenly swung open.
Startled, the cup in his hand slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor the moment he saw Kro standing there. For a split second, it looked like he might actually jump out the window.
Ukraine stepped in behind her, quietly observing.
Seeing the manager's terrified expression reassured him of one thing. He wasn't the only person intimidated by Kro.
Kro calmly pulled a chair back and sat down. Her hands rested neatly on her lap.
"Tell me something," she said.
The manager swallowed nervously.
"Did something happen to your wife or your child today?"
"No!" he blurted quickly.
"You had trouble with your car?"
"No, Miss Kro."
"You don't feel well?"
"I—I do," he stammered.
Kro tilted her head slightly.
"Then give me a perfect explanation as to why this store was still closed seventeen minutes after opening time."
Her voice remained calm, but every word felt like a blade.
"I arrived and found customers waiting outside. Some of them had already left." She leaned forward slightly. "Why?"
The manager's hands trembled.
"I… I don't have an excuse."
Kro studied him silently for a moment.
"It seems like this is something you're used to doing," she said. "When exactly did this branch begin to slack off?"
The manager didn't dare speak.
"Opening the store on time is not complicated," Kro continued.
Her voice hardened.
"You need to understand something very clearly. Our customers are the reason CC Cosmetics exists today. If we make them stand outside for no reason, I will be extremely furious."
"I understand, Miss Kro," the manager said quickly. "I'm very sorry."
Kro stood up.
"Before six o'clock this evening, I expect a written letter of apology from you, your assistant, and everyone responsible for this branch."
Her eyes locked onto his.
"If those letters arrive even one minute late…" She paused, "You will write another letter. A resignation letter."
The manager nodded rapidly, too frightened to say anything else.
Without another word, Kro turned and walked out of the office.
Ukraine followed her.
Behind them, the manager collapsed into his chair and released a long, shaky breath.
He had just narrowly avoided losing his job.
Ukraine followed a few steps behind Kro, biting the inside of his cheek the entire way.
The driver had already spotted them coming out of the building and hurried to open the back door of the car for Kro.
Just before stepping inside, Kro paused. She turned her head. Ukraine was standing several steps behind her again—farther than necessary.
Her already sour mood worsened instantly.
"What's wrong with you?" she asked.
Ukraine blinked in confusion, "Wh—what do you mean?"
"I mean this distance," Kro said, gesturing lightly between them. "This isn't how a boss and her assistant walk together. You're always standing far away from me."
She narrowed her eyes slightly.
"Why? Are you scared of me?"
"It's nothing like that, boss," Ukraine said quickly. "I'm just… always like this."
"Like what?"
"Like how you described it."
Kro stared at him.
For a moment, she could clearly see it—there was something he wanted to say but didn't have the courage to speak out loud. She hesitated, debating whether to press further or drop the conversation entirely.
But before she could decide, something unexpected happened.
A butterfly gently landed in her hair.
Kro didn't notice.
Ukraine did.
The sight caught him off guard, and without thinking, he smiled.
Kro immediately noticed.
"What's funny?"
"You… have a butterfly on your head," Ukraine said, pointing awkwardly toward her hair.
"Oh."
Kro reached up and carefully removed the butterfly.
She studied it quietly for a few seconds.
For a brief moment, the scene almost felt peaceful.
Then—
Without warning, she ripped the butterfly in half and tossed the pieces onto the ground.
Ukraine's stomach lurched.
He nearly gagged.
Kro dusted her hands lightly as if nothing unusual had happened.
"I forgot to tell you," she said calmly. "I hate butterflies."
She glanced at him coldly.
"Let me give you some advice. If you ever see something approaching me that I dislike, send it away before I notice it." Her voice was steady. "Because if I see it first… you'll end up looking exactly like you do right now."
Ukraine's face had gone pale.
With complete composure, Kro stepped into the car.
Ukraine remained standing there for a second longer, patting his chest as if trying to steady his heart.
What the hell did I just witness?
Finally, he climbed into the car as well, forcing himself to act normal.
But inside his head, one thought echoed louder than anything else.
He was living his absolute worst nightmare.
...
Krosmetics Headquarters
Misaki followed Sue through the polished hallways of Krosmetics with growing excitement.
Everything gleamed.
The floors.
The walls.
The branded displays.
Even the people looked polished.
She felt as though she had stepped into the life she had always wanted.
Sue walked briskly, speaking as they moved.
"You'll be busy here. Very busy. Your brain will need to work twenty-four-seven. Competition is fierce, and expectations are high. Krosmetics didn't get to the top by accident."
She glanced at Misaki.
"So understand this clearly—Krosmetics is you, and you are Krosmetics. If you go down, Krosmetics goes down with you."
Misaki met her gaze without hesitation.
"I won't let you down."
Sue nodded, pleased.
As they neared the marketing department, they crossed paths with a man whose presence made Misaki notice him immediately.
His hair was black and shining, almost unreal in its perfection. His eyebrows were thick, his features striking, and his eyes had the clean, expressive intensity of an anime character. Usually he wore glasses, Sue explained later, but not today. Even without trying, he looked charming.
"Leo!" Sue said warmly, giving him a light hug. "Long time no see."
"I've been busy," he replied.
Sue reached for Misaki's hand and drew her forward.
"This is Misaki, a new member of my team. I'm giving her the grand tour."
Then she turned to Misaki.
"And Misaki, this is Leo. Kro's friend. Actually, he's everybody's friend. He lectures at National University."
"Nice to meet you," Misaki said with a smile.
Leo stared at her a second too long.
Not rudely.
Curiously.
"Do we know each other?" he asked. "You look very familiar."
Misaki smiled sheepishly.
"I don't mean to brag, but I'm Minister Akeshi's daughter. Maybe you've seen me on TV."
Leo blinked, then smiled.
"Oh. Right. That must be it. Nice to meet you."
But even as he said it, he looked unconvinced.
He turned to Sue.
"I came to see Kro, but she wasn't in her office. Tell her I stopped by. I might visit her house later."
"You got it," Sue said. "We have to run. Nice seeing you."
"You too."
Sue and Misaki continued down the hallway.
Leo stayed where he was, watching them disappear from sight.
He didn't believe the television explanation.
Not fully.
There was something about Misaki that felt closer than that. As if he should know her. As if her face belonged somewhere in his life.
He just couldn't remember where.
...
Evening
By the end of the day, the building exhaled. Employees began heading home in tired waves. Doors shut. Conversations faded. Computers powered down.
In the shared office, Ukraine finished preparing Kro's schedule for the next day and transferring everything to the tablet. All he wanted now was to be dismissed.
Kro stood from her desk, having finished reading the apology letters from the branch.
She stretched once, then walked toward his desk.
"Are you ready to go?" she asked.
"Yes, boss."
"Let's go."
Ukraine stood immediately and opened the door for her. This time, as they walked, he stayed closer, careful not to repeat the mistake from earlier.
The driver was already outside by the car.
Kro approached the open door, then stopped.
She turned and looked at Ukraine.
He stood a short distance away now. Attentive. Careful. Closer than before.
Something softened in her face.
Almost wistful.
"I was wondering," she said, "if you wanted to have dinner with me."
Ukraine stared.
Kro continued, "I feel like you have a lot to say. Maybe cutlets will make you more comfortable."
Her intention was genuine.
She could see how suffocated he looked around her, though she had no idea why.
Ukraine, however, only heard danger wrapped in politeness.
"Next time, boss," he said quickly. "Not today."
"Do you have plans," she asked, "or have you had enough of me for one day?"
"Uh…"
He looked around desperately for escape.
And there—
Like divine intervention—
He saw a familiar face crossing near the main entrance.
The girl from the interview.
"MISAKI!" he shouted.
Misaki stopped mid-step and turned.
When she saw Ukraine, and then Kro standing right beside him, she immediately changed direction and walked over. Ukraine kept blinking at her with such unnatural intensity that she understood at once: save me.
She approached and nodded respectfully to Kro.
"Good evening, Miss Kro."
Kro nodded in return, then looked back at Ukraine.
Now both women were staring at him.
Ukraine forced a smile so awkward it nearly hurt.
"Are you ready for our dinner plans?" he asked Misaki.
Misaki looked at him once and understood everything.
Perfectly.
"I was just going to get my car and meet you here," she said smoothly. "Did you think I forgot?"
Relief flooded Ukraine so hard it nearly made him weak.
He looked back at Kro.
"We should go. See you tomorrow, boss."
"Goodnight, Miss Kro," Misaki repeated politely.
Kro only nodded.
She watched the two of them walk away together, then finally got into the car.
As she fastened her seatbelt, she shook her head.
"Humans," she muttered.
And somehow, for the first time that day, she sounded almost amused.
***