Hospital
Early Morning
Kro arrived at the hospital almost running. The call she had received earlier had been short and alarming—Loro had collapsed. Now she stood outside the doctor's office, waiting while he finished speaking with another patient. Her arms were crossed tightly, her eyes fixed on the door.
She had been with Loro since the day she was born.
Kro had watched her grow from a tiny baby into a curious child… then a strong young woman… and eventually into the elderly woman she was today. The thought of losing her felt impossible to accept.
Her phone started ringing again.
And again.
And again.
Kro looked down.
Sue.
The marketing director of Krosmetics.
Today was also the day of the employee interviews, something Kro had been preparing for weeks. Sue kept calling every minute, clearly anxious about the schedule.
With a quiet sigh, Kro finally answered.
"Good morning, Miss Kro," Sue said, her voice slightly impatient.
"Hi, Sue," Kro replied calmly. "I'm going to be late today. Loro collapsed and I'm at the hospital. I probably won't make it to the first stage of the interview." She paused, "I should be there around eleven. Is that alright?"
"Of course, boss," Sue said immediately, her tone softening. "Take your time."
Kro ended the call.
At that moment, the door to the doctor's office opened. The patient walked out. Kro stood quickly and stepped inside.
The doctor already knew her well. He had been treating Loro for years. Without saying anything at first, he opened Loro's medical file and slid it across the desk toward Kro.
"Kro," he said gently, "Loro needs to rest now."
Kro's eyes immediately hardened, "Don't say that."
The doctor sighed. "Her heart is extremely weak. Installing another pacemaker battery wouldn't help anymore." He paused before finishing the sentence. "She won't last a month."
Kro's fingers tightened around the file.
"So you want to remove it now?" she asked quietly. "Can't we just wait?"
"We could," the doctor admitted. "But Kro… Loro is in a lot of pain." His voice softened even more. "She's old. Right now her body is torturing her. The only thing we can do for her is remove that burden."
He looked at Kro with sympathy.
"It's time to let her go."
Kro lowered her gaze.
For more than five centuries, she had watched the people she loved disappear one by one.
Friends.
Students.
Families.
Generations.
No matter how many times it happened, she never learned how to accept it. Saying goodbye never became easier.
And Loro…
Loro had lasted longer than anyone else.
Thirty years earlier, when her heart problems began, Kro had forced her to get a pacemaker. She had done everything she could to keep her alive. But now, unexpectedly, even that time had finally run out.
And once again, Kro was standing at the edge of another goodbye she wasn't ready to face.
...
Bazzad
It was the most exciting day of Misaki's life.
Today, she was going to interview for her dream job at her dream company.
Misaki was twenty-eight years old, the kind of person everyone instinctively liked the moment they met her. She had a gentle presence, warm eyes, and a naturally sweet personality that made people feel comfortable around her.
Her hair was cut into a neat, straight bob that framed her face perfectly, and her tall, slender figure carried an effortless elegance.
Outside, her small home was filled with plants and flowers. Gardening was her greatest hobby, and the yard she had carefully cultivated over the years made the house look like a tiny piece of Eden tucked inside the city.
But there was one thing Misaki had never fully made peace with. A birthmark rested on her cheek—dark, uneven, and noticeable enough to make strangers stare if she didn't hide it.
She hated the attention it brought.
So as she stood before the mirror that morning applying her makeup, she focused most carefully on the area around her cheek, blending and smoothing until the mark was completely concealed.
Only when she was satisfied did she lean back and study her reflection.
"Let's do this, Misaki," she whispered to herself.
Her voice carried quiet determination.
"Let's get a job on our own."
She finished getting dressed.
A simple black suit.
Small diamond earrings.
A modest gold watch.
Professional.
Clean.
Confident.
Misaki looked at herself in the mirror one last time and smiled.
"Now this," she said proudly, "is an interview-success look."
With that, she grabbed her bag and stepped out of the house, ready to chase the future she had dreamed about for years.
...
Hospital
Kro slowly pushed the door open.
The room was quiet except for the faint hum of machines and the soft rhythm of oxygen flowing through a mask.
Although she was facing the other side of the bed, Loro immediately knew who had entered. Kro had a scent unlike anyone else's—one Loro had known her entire life.
Loro slowly turned her head.
An oxygen mask covered most of her face, and IV bags hung beside the bed, dripping steadily into her fragile body.
Her eyes met Kro's.
The expression on Kro's face was exactly what Loro expected.
Sad.
But deeper than sadness… something close to jealousy.
Kro walked to the bedside and gently sat down. She took Loro's hand carefully, holding it the way a mother might hold a child's.
"How lucky you are," Kro murmured softly, gazing at her.
The words sounded strange—spoken with both tenderness and sorrow.
Loro's faint smile moved under the oxygen mask.
"I guess… you finally accepted to let me go."
Kro lowered her eyes. "It wasn't an easy decision," she admitted quietly. "But I hope you'll finally rest in peace."
Her fingers tightened slightly around Loro's hand.
"It feels good knowing I fulfilled Poqo's wish—to take care of his family. I'm sure he's happy, wherever he is."
Loro looked at her lovingly. "It's been an honor serving you," she said softly. "You've been my mother, my sister, my best friend… and my boss." Her breathing slowed as she spoke. "I know how hard this is for you."
Her voice gained a faint urgency.
"But when I'm gone… Please don't stay alone."
Kro looked up.
"Find someone to take care of you," Loro continued. "Make sure you eat. And keep your calm… even when people remind you of the past."
Kro exhaled deeply. "I'm jealous," she admitted. Her voice was bitter and tired. "Death comes to you so gracefully. You don't even have to try."
She studied Loro's fragile body.
"Look at you… dying as if it's a gift." Then she looked down at her own hands. "While some of us don't even bleed anymore."
Her eyes grew distant.
"My heart stopped beating centuries ago. I'm like a walking stone."
Loro shook her head weakly. "Don't say that, Kro. You're perfect." Her voice was faint but certain. "Everything happened for a reason. Your time will come too… and you'll leave this place one day."
Kro gave a small, hollow laugh.
"When is that? Another five hundred years from now?"
She already knew the answer.
Loro smiled gently.
"You'll be alright. You've taken care of our family for centuries." Her fingers squeezed Kro's weakly. "This will be nothing compared to that."
Kro looked down again, her voice quiet and raw.
"When you see Poqo… tell him something for me."
Loro's eyes softened. "What is it?"
Kro gave a tired smile.
"Tell him life without him really sucks."
Loro's faint smile returned.
"I will."
...
Krosmetics Headquarters
Interview Hall
Ukraine arrived.
It was the true beginning of his mission.
He looked sharp in a perfectly tailored black suit, the kind that made people take him seriously before he even spoke. His ash-brown hair was tied neatly—half up, half down—giving him a polished but relaxed appearance.
He stepped into the waiting hall.
The room was packed.
Dozens of applicants filled the space, their heads bent over notes, whispering answers, rehearsing introductions, or silently mouthing possible interview questions. The air buzzed with nervous energy and quiet competition.
Ukraine frowned slightly. He hated environments like this. Everyone looked tense, guarded, calculating. And the last thing he wanted to do was stand around awkwardly pretending to be one of them.
His eyes scanned the room, searching for someone who didn't look like they were preparing for war.
Then he saw her.
A bob-haired woman sitting alone.
Calm.
Quiet.
Not frantically reviewing notes like everyone else.
Perfect.
Ukraine walked over and stopped beside her.
"Good morning," he said politely.
The woman looked up, slightly surprised. No one else in the room seemed interested in talking—everyone looked far too competitive for casual conversation.
But she smiled warmly. "Good morning."
"I'm Ukraine."
She opened her mouth to respond.
"I'm M—"
"MISAKI AKESHI, DOLLY FARGO, UKRAINE SONG, AND GABRIEL CANE!"
The secretary's voice rang loudly through the waiting area.
"Enter the interview room now!"
Ukraine blinked.
Misaki blinked.
Both of them stood at the same time. So much for introductions. They walked toward the interview room, followed by the other two candidates whose names had just been called.
...
Inside, four empty chairs waited in front of a long table.
The candidates sat down politely.
Behind the table were three interviewers.
Two men.
And Sue, the Marketing Director.
There was also one empty chair, placed between Sue and one of the men. Clearly, someone important had not arrived yet. Sue adjusted the papers before her and smiled professionally. Her curly hair framed her face, and the crisp white pantsuit she wore made her look both elegant and authoritative.
"Welcome," she began. "We want this interview to feel comfortable and respectful for everyone here." She folded her hands. "So let's begin by introducing ourselves."
Misaki spoke first.
"I'm Misaki Akeshi, twenty-six years old, and a university graduate with a degree in cosmetology and marketing."
The interviewers nodded approvingly.
Their attention moved to the next person.
Ukraine.
"My name is Ukraine. I'm twenty-nine years old—"
The door opened.
Every head in the room turned.
Kro walked in.
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Even the air seemed to carry her presence, a subtle scent drifting through the room that made the space feel strangely different—almost unreal. The candidates didn't recognize her immediately. But the interviewers did. All three of them stood up immediately. A silent sign of respect.
Kro calmly pulled out the empty chair and sat down first. Only then did the others sit again.
Sue cleared her throat and resumed.
"I'm sure some of you may have guessed already," she said. She gestured toward Kro. "This is the president of Krosmetics—Miss Kro."
Ukraine swallowed.
His eyes stayed fixed on her.
She looked exactly like the photographs.
Exactly.
Not a wrinkle.
Not a single mark of aging.
No signs of surgery.
No signs of anything unnatural.
Just a calm, serious young woman sitting across from him.
And somehow that made his confidence drop instantly.
"Sorry I'm late," Kro said casually while opening the files in front of her.
Her eyes moved across the four candidates' applications.
"Where were we?"
"Mr. Ukraine was introducing himself," Sue replied.
Kro looked up.
"Oh," she said softly. "Please continue, Ukraine."
Ukraine cleared his throat.
He resumed speaking.
And as he answered the questions that followed, Kro watched him carefully.
He spoke well.
Clearly.
Confidently.
Even the arguments he formed made sense.
For the first time during the interview, Kro felt something unexpected stir in her curiosity.
Ukraine Song was… interesting.
...
Seven Centuries Ago — Azaradan
The marketplace exploded with cheers.
The army rode through the streets victorious.
While most soldiers rode horses—
Kro sat on the shoulders of a giant man.
Poqo.
He was massive.
Tall.
Broad as a mountain.
Kro's closest ally.
Her ride-or-die.
Poqo was the greatest swordsman in the kingdom. But Kro was the master of the bow. They called her "Targeter." Because she never missed.
At the palace gates, General Qin waited.
The army dismounted and knelt.
Kro stepped down from Poqo's shoulders and bowed.
"We're back, General. We bring the victory we promised."
Qin beamed proudly.
"THE KING INVITES YOU ALL TO A FEAST TONIGHT! TO HONOR THE GREATEST ARMY IN AZARADAN!"
The soldiers erupted with cheers.
Qin stepped forward and hugged Kro tightly.
"You keep making me the proudest father alive," he said. "I'm proud of you."
"Thank you, Father."
Then Qin turned slowly toward Poqo.
Poqo immediately looked nervous.
"Where are your horses?" Qin asked.
Poqo glanced toward Kro.
She was already sneaking away.
Blowing him goodbye kisses.
Poqo glared at her.
"You sold them again?" Qin roared. "You always sell your horses and come back riding on each other!"
He pointed at Poqo.
"Next time you go to war on foot!"
Poqo saluted desperately.
"FORGIVE US, GENERAL! It won't happen again!"
But both men knew it absolutely would.
...
Pix Village
Greenhouse
Kro quietly stepped into the greenhouse.
Sunlight filtered through the glass ceiling, scattering warm patterns over rows of flowers, herbs, and climbing vines. The place smelled of earth and petals, a peaceful world hidden inside the household grounds.
Kenna stood near one of the flower beds, carefully trimming a rose stem.
Without making a sound, Kro walked behind her. She covered Kenna's eyes with one hand while keeping the other hidden behind her back.
"Guess who?" Kro asked playfully.
Kenna didn't even hesitate. "Who else? It's you, Kro," she said calmly. "I can smell blood all over you."
Kro quickly let go and sniffed her own sleeve in confusion.
"Blood? But I showered!"
Kenna turned around immediately and wrapped her arms around her sister.
"I was kidding," she laughed softly.
Kro shook her head with a small smile.
The two sisters could not have been more different.
Kenna was the second daughter of General Qin, and unlike Kro's wild warrior energy, Kenna embodied quiet elegance. Her long red hair—said to be the longest in the entire kingdom—flowed down her back like a curtain of fire. Her eyes were a deep ocean blue, calm and mysterious.
She rarely spoke much.
Kenna preferred the peaceful company of flowers to the noise of people.
From the crown of her head to the delicate jewelry wrapped around her ankles, tiny ornaments shimmered and jingled with every movement she made. In Azaradan, she was easily one of the most desired women in the kingdom—appearing on nearly every nobleman's list of ideal brides.
"Congratulations, Captain," Kenna said warmly. "Another victory. Father is very proud."
Kro shrugged lightly, "I just saw him," she replied. "Thank you, beautiful."
Her eyes wandered across the greenhouse.
"So… another garden, huh?"
Kenna nodded. "Yes. But something is missing."
Kro folded her arms thoughtfully.
"Let me guess… butterflies?"
Kenna blinked in surprise. "Exactly. How did you know?"
Kro grinned. "We're sisters."
Then she finally revealed what she had been hiding behind her back.
In her hands was a small decorative cage, delicately woven with green leaves and lilac flowers. Inside fluttered six butterflies, each with different colors and patterns on their wings.
Kenna gasped.
Her quiet composure vanished instantly as joy filled her face.
"Kro!"
She carefully took the cage and opened its door.
The butterflies floated out one by one.
For a moment they drifted lazily through the warm air of the greenhouse, their wings flashing blues, yellows, and soft violets as they settled among the flowers.
Kenna watched in awe.
And suddenly the garden felt complete.
The butterflies moved through the flowers like fish through the ocean, turning the greenhouse into something magical.
Kro leaned against a nearby pillar, watching her sister's happiness with a quiet smile.
For someone who spent most of her life surrounded by war and blood—
Moments like this were rare.
And precious.
***