It started with messages.
At first, just professional.
> Yuki: "Ravager spotted in Bangkok. I'll handle it."
> Me: "Copy that. Be careful."
Then it shifted.
> Yuki: "You always forget to block your left side. I saw it in our sparring match."
> Me: "You always fake a right step before launching that crescent kick. I figured you out."
> Yuki: "Impressive. I'll change it."
It became a rhythm.
In the chaos of our world, she was my constant. And in my dreams, I found myself thinking about her more than I wanted to admit.
One evening, as I returned from a mission in Sarawak, I saw her waiting near the Skyspire transport gate.
"Yuki?" I said, surprised. "Did something happen?"
She shook her head, arms crossed. "No. I just wanted to see you."
That… wasn't like her.
Her voice was quieter than usual. "You've been pushing yourself too hard."
"I'm trying to protect my country."
"You can't protect it if you destroy yourself."
I looked at her, really looked at her. The cold aura she always wore seemed thinner tonight. Her face, usually unreadable, held something softer. Concern, maybe.
She turned away, her ponytail swaying behind her.
"I'm… not good at expressing things," she admitted. "But I don't want to see you die, Nezo."
I didn't answer right away.
Instead, I stepped beside her, letting the silence speak. The city lights shimmered below us, and the wind carried the quiet sounds of peace—for now.
"You're not alone, Yuki," I finally said. "Even the strongest need someone."
She turned to me slowly, eyes glinting with something deep.
"…Do I have you, then?"
I smiled gently.
"Yeah. You have me."
She looked away, but I could see it—that rare, barely-there blush dusting her cheeks.
---
The following weeks, we trained together more. Fought side by side. We were unstoppable—two of the world's top Rankers working in sync like we were born for it.
We laughed more, too.
Even when we were tired, injured, or surrounded by chaos, she'd lean over and say, "You're hopeless," with the faintest smile.
And I'd reply, "You love it."
I think, deep down, we both knew.
This wasn't just rivalry anymore.
It was love.