Karina took one slow step toward him.
"I'm asking you politely."
Ukraine's voice came out rough. "Politely?"
"Yes."
"You wait by my car, tell me you know me, and ask me what my boss is—and that counts as polite to you?"
She held his gaze. "I know you're closer to her than most people in that building. I've seen it. I've been watching."
That sentence sent an ugly chill straight down his spine.
Ukraine stared at her.
There it was.
Not a fraud.
Not just a liar.
A watcher.
A plant.
And suddenly Misaki's fear didn't sound paranoid at all.
He forced his face into something steadier than he felt.
"You're asking the wrong person."
Karina's eyes sharpened. "No. I'm asking the right one."
Ukraine slipped his hand slowly into his pocket, fingers closing around his phone.
"She's my boss," he said. "That's what she is."
Karina didn't blink. "You know that's not what I mean."
He gave her a cold smile. "And you know I'm not stupid enough to help a stranger stalk her."
The word stranger made something flicker in Karina's expression.
Very small.
Very fast.
But enough.
Ukraine saw it.
And realized that, whatever game she had been playing until now, she was no longer fully in control of it.
"I'll ask you one more time," Karina said quietly. "What is Kro?"
Ukraine took a breath.
Then another.
And chose the only answer that could protect Kro long enough for him to think.
"She's the worst possible woman for you to be asking about."
Karina's jaw tightened. "That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting."
He opened the car door, but before he got in, he looked at her again—fully, directly, without the old fear that once made him flinch around anything Kro-related.
"You made one mistake," he said.
Karina frowned.
"You assumed I'd choose you over her."
A staring contest.
Neither of them spoke.
Neither of them moved.
They simply watched each other, each one trying to read the other's face for the thing that would slip first—fear, guilt, recognition, a mistake. Something in the air between them had already shifted. It no longer felt like two coworkers standing in a parking lot at the end of a workday.
It felt like a trap.
Ukraine's mind raced.
Misaki's suspicions.
Karina's lie.
Her creepy confidence.
The way she had watched him.
She had just taught him a lesson he would not forget: never underestimate the quiet ones.
Karina, on the other hand, could feel time slipping through her fingers. The silence had gone on too long. She needed to steer it back before it started looking like what it really was.
Finally she laughed softly.
"I guess I need lessons on how to ask questions. You look like you've been exposed."
Ukraine's eyes stayed cold.
"No," he said. "You're the one who just exposed yourself."
Karina tilted her head.
"Oh really? And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean."
She sighed, then shifted into a smoother voice.
"Fine. Let me make this easy. I heard you used to be Kro's PA before me. I only asked because I wanted tips on how to be more casual around her. Like you were this morning when you came to deliver that paper."
Ukraine almost smiled.
"What? You need tips? That's surprising."
Karina folded her arms.
"What's wrong with asking? We're colleagues."
"Are we?" he asked. "Because I'm trying to understand why someone who supposedly worked as a minister's assistant and got this job through recommendation would need advice from a nobody like me."
That made something flicker in Karina's eyes.
Ukraine saw it.
Then, before she could recover, he opened his car door and slid inside.
Karina stayed where she was, watching him drive away.
The moment his car disappeared beyond the gate, the smile vanished from her face completely. Her left eye twitched. Her hands slowly curled into fists at her sides.
She had failed.
Worse—
she had shown too much.
And she hated herself for it.
...
Azaradan
The Market
Kro and Buk walked side by side through the busy market, moving slowly enough to savor the ordinary magic of it.
She wore her army attire.
He wore the commoner's disguise he had once used as Atta.
To anyone watching, they might have looked like nothing more than a soldier and a village man walking through the market together.
To Buk, it felt like paradise.
After a long silence, he said in the gravest tone possible:
"I'm dying."
Kro looked at him sharply.
"You're dying?"
"Yes," Buk said solemnly. "I'm dying to hold your hand."
Kro rolled her eyes.
"Your choice of words is alarming."
A grin pulled at his mouth. "You're saying my words flatter you, my queen?"
"A little."
Buk brightened.
"So that means I can hold your hand?"
Kro raised a brow.
"What will people say if they see their captain walking around hand in hand with a man?"
Buk frowned like an offended child.
"I hear Poqo carries you on his back sometimes. I don't see why me holding your hand is suddenly the scandal of the century."
The jealousy in his voice was so obvious it nearly glowed.
And Kro, to her own surprise, found it deeply satisfying.
She laughed.
"This is oddly enjoyable."
Buk looked wounded. "Not to me."
Kro leaned slightly closer and lowered her voice.
"We did more than hold hands at the bell tower."
That alone quieted him.
Then she added, soft but certain:
"You can't be compared to anyone. You have your place. Poqo has his."
Buk's expression eased immediately.
"I know," he said. "I trust you."
He was silent for a moment.
Then his eyes lit up again.
"Well, since my first wish was denied, how about my second?"
Kro sighed. "What is it now?"
"I want to see you in a dress."
Kro stopped walking and looked at him as if asking the heavens why this man had been created.
"Oh, gods."
...
The Fabric Shop
Buk could hardly stay still.
He was waiting outside the dressing room with enough nervous energy to startle the shopkeeper. His feet tapped the floor, his hands refused to settle, and every second felt absurdly long.
Then the curtain parted.
Kro stepped out.
She wore a silky ocean-blue dress with pale fur trimming the sleeves. The fabric followed the lines of her body in a way no armor ever had. Her hair, usually tied away with soldierly neatness, had been let down, falling in a dark sheet to her waist.
She stood there.
Just stood there.
And Buk forgot how to blink.
Even Kro, uncomfortable as she was, tried a slightly girlish pose just to see what it did to him.
It destroyed him completely.
"Wish two granted," she said dryly. "Can I take it off now?"
Buk cleared his throat, still openly stunned.
"Wait."
He reached behind his neck and unclasped the necklace he had been wearing.
It was simple.
Silver.
But at its center rested a white stone shaped like a moon—smooth, pale, and unlike anything Kro had seen before.
Buk stepped closer and held it out.
"I made this," he said. "With my own hands. Ten days' work."
Kro stared.
"This stone is called Qatasti. It used to be found high on the mountain, but after the eruption twenty years ago, it disappeared. This was the last piece left."
Very gently, he placed the necklace around her neck.
The moonstone rested against the blue dress as if it had always belonged there.
Buk smiled.
"You're like this stone to me," he said.
And for once, Kro had no quick answer.
...
Present
Restaurant
Misaki checked the address one last time before stepping inside.
It was correct.
The restaurant was bright, warm, and thankfully not too crowded. Leo had told her to look for a man in a plain white shirt, and she spotted him almost immediately.
He looked up just as she pulled back the chair across from him.
A quick surprise crossed his face, followed by visible relief.
"I'm here," Misaki said with a smile that tried very hard to hide how exhausted she really felt.
Leo noticed anyway.
"Are you okay? You look down."
"Family matter," she said. "Nothing you need to worry about."
He studied her for a second.
"We can postpone this if you need to deal with it."
Misaki shook her head.
"No. I need to stop thinking for at least an hour. So let's talk about anything else."
Leo nodded.
"Then first things first. What are you having?"
The waiter arrived just then.
"Steak. Medium rare," Misaki said, handing over the menu.
Leo smiled.
"I'll have the same."
The waiter left.
Leo leaned forward.
"I need to interrogate you."
Misaki arched a brow.
"Go ahead."
"Are you absolutely sure we've never met before? Because I can't shake the feeling that I know you."
She gave him a look.
"Are you trying to flatter me?"
"No. I'm serious."
He really was.
Misaki laughed softly.
"Nope. Never seen you before. But when I met you, I wanted us to be friends immediately. That's why your name stuck in my head. So yes, I'm very happy we're here having lunch."
Leo smiled.
"We can do it more often, then. We're friends now."
"Sure, why n—"
"MR. LEO? MR. LEO!"
A voice rang across the restaurant.
Both of them turned.
A girl in her early twenties was hurrying toward the table with far too much excitement in her steps.
Leo's smile turned awkward instantly.
Misaki noticed.
That alone was enough to make her suspicious.
The girl reached them and beamed directly at Leo.
"Mr. Leo, you look so different in casual clothes! I almost didn't recognize you."
"You look different too," Leo said politely. "Omega."
"Yes! I braided my hair today. You always see me in ponytails, so I thought, why not change it?" she giggled. Then, without being asked, she pulled out a chair and sat at their table.
Misaki stared.
Leo looked suffocated.
Omega, however, seemed perfectly comfortable.
"Mr. Leo, about the lecture last Thursday—"
"Sweetie," Misaki cut in sweetly, leaning forward with her hands clasped together, "what was your name again? Omega?"
The girl turned to her, already annoyed.
"Yes."
"It's the weekend," Misaki said softly. "That special time of the week when you stop thinking about school and let people eat in peace."
Omega blinked.
Then bristled.
"This is none of your—"
Misaki's smile didn't move.
"Listen here, little lady. The law states that if a teacher fails to keep a decent distance from his student—or if the student keeps crossing it—it can end very badly."
Her voice dropped further.
"I've watched you move your chair closer to him every twenty seconds. Why?"
Omega's face tightened.
The confidence began slipping.
Still, she tried one last move.
"Is he your boyfriend or something?"
Misaki didn't even blink.
"He's my husband. And you are?"
Leo nearly choked on silence.
Omega looked from one to the other.
"I don't see a ring on his finger."
"Hey, Omega—" Leo tried.
"No, Leo, don't interrupt" Misaki said calmly. Then she faced Omega again, "You look like trouble, and I honestly hate trouble. So, here's a thing; If you don't get up and leave us alone, I'll slap you so hard on your face with a hot steak. So, if I were you, I'd leave this table before our food gets here."
Omega huffed. "You wouldn't dare."
Misaki's expression remained neutral, unreadable. Then she glanced toward the kitchen.
"Oh look. There's our food."
The waiter really was approaching with the plates.
Misaki turned back to Omega, a psychopathic smile resting on her face.
"Stay," she said with her eyes, I dare you.
Omega looked at the waiter.
At the table.
At Misaki.
And finally understood she had already lost.
"Screw you, lady," she spat, getting up and storming out.
Misaki leaned back.
Leo was staring at her with the kind of admiration that made her want to laugh.
"What?"
"Were you actually going to slap her with the steak?"
Misaki looked offended.
"Do I look insane to you?"
Leo laughed.
"You're amazing."
He gave her two enthusiastic thumbs up.
Misaki smirked.
"Stick around me. I'm an entire circus."
Inside, Leo felt absurdly pleased.
He was heading in the right direction with her.
Slowly.
Carefully.
And exactly the way he wanted.
...
Midnight
The Mother-in-Law's House
Kro stood at the gate of the house nearly four hours later.
The drive had been long, the road increasingly isolated the deeper she went, and by the time she stepped out of the car she felt as if the woman she had come to confront was either hiding from the world or training to become a ghost herself.
A tiny wireless earbud rested in Kro's ear.
Leo's voice came through softly.
"The address is right, walking dead. That's the house."
Kro looked around.
"It's ridiculously hidden."
The gate opened automatically.
Kro slipped through without hesitation and crossed the yard as if she belonged there. The house inside was dark and silent, every hallway thick with the stillness of deep sleep.
"I'm in," Kro whispered. "I'm going straight to her room. If she has Zoe's papers, they'll be there."
"I'm with you," Leo murmured.
Kro entered the mother-in-law's room and found exactly what she expected—
the woman asleep.
Without wasting a second, Kro began searching.
Drawers.
Closet.
Under the bed.
Safe.
Nothing.
No documents. No school name. No records. Nothing that could reveal where Zoe had been sent.
Kro stopped and exhaled sharply.
"She's smart," she whispered. "She doesn't keep anything important here."
A full minute passed in silence as both she and Leo tried to think.
Then Kro, standing by the window, turned her eyes back toward the sleeping woman.
"Kro," Leo said, voice tighter now, "you have one option left."
She already knew what he meant.
"No."
"It's the only way."
"Are you insane? I swore I'd never do that again. It's too dangerous."
"We can make it work. You know it can."
Kro's jaw tightened.
Because he was right.
And that made it worse.
"Her dream is already in progress," Kro said quietly. "If I enter now, I have to blend in immediately or she'll wake wrong. And if I stay more than a minute…" She looked down. "You know what could happen to her."
Leo did know.
And still he said:
"Please. We need Zoe's location. Let's help Sue."
Kro stared at the woman in the bed.
She was silent so long Leo almost thought she wouldn't do it.
Then, slowly, she crossed the room and sat at the bedside.
"Talk to me in a minute," she said. "I'm going in."
"You'll go to heaven for this," Leo muttered.
Kro took the earbud out and placed it beside the lamp.
Then she laid her hand against the sleeping woman's forehead and closed her eyes.
"God," she whispered, "everyone trusts me. So I'll trust You."
And then—
her body vanished.
***