The Reincarnator had just handed me my new assignment: a solo infiltration. No backup, no support— just me. Sector Bacardi was only half-secured, command still needed to root out any GOC loyalists before they could commit major forces. Until then, I went alone.
I had to say goodbye to Kiriyama before I left. Without her, my first day in the field would have been my last.
I checked her office—empty— then her usual late-night sake haunt— also empty. Finally I found her on the shore I'd never even know existed before now, sitting on the sand and staring at the moon. An empty bottle lay buried beside her boot, her words came slurred and small, lost to the wind.
I crouched beside her. "Kiriyama," I said softly. "It's time for you to come instead, before the waves take you."
She mumbled something unintelligible and slid forward. I caught her and carried her back to room. Papers fluttered across the floor— reports, schedules, financial logs— like dead leaves. I set her on the bed and started gathering them.
A UIU report stamped "CONFIDENTAL" caught my eye. I didn't open it— what it contained wasn't meant for me. I crumpled it and fed it to the fireplace, watching the stamped letters curl and blacken.
I knelt at the bedside and watched her sleep. Her hair fell over her face, the warmth of her body made the sheet rise and fall. I pressed a light kiss to her forehead. "See you soon," I whispered.
A few hours later, the Reincarnator had summoned me. His office was quiet except for the soft hum of ventiliation. He laid out the Siam operation in precise, clipped sentences— routes, contacts, enemy patrols— but the underlying truth was simple: I would be alone behind enemy lines. One mistake, one misstep, and the GOC would make sure I never returned.
I checked my forged Journalist ID and papers, my only shield against death.
"Have you told Kiriyama?" He asked, his gaze cold, measured.
"Not yet," I said. "She'll know when she has to."
"No." He shook his head slowly. "Say goodbye. The submarine isn't ready yet."
I managed a small smile. "Alright."
He picked up a file and flicked it open, letting me see the crimson tally marks scrawled across the pages. "Sector Tango on fire," he murmured, almost to himself. "So many Raj casualties... well, perhaps it's only fair after what they did to those medics." He leaned back in his chair, the shadow of a grin playing on his lips. "I don't blame them. If it were my sister..." His hand hovered over the fire, then let the folder drop. The paper hissed and curled into ash. The smoke rose slowly, a silent testament to the billion lives gone.
I left before he spoke again.
Back at Kiriyama's room, she was asleep at her desk. The faint smell of alchohol clung to her hair. I stepped closer and whispered, "Wake up, princess..."
Her lips curved in a drowsy, sleepy smile. "Yes... I'm your princess," she murmured, dreamlike.
She shifted slightly, pressing against me as if seeking warmth. I smoothed her hair and whispered gently, "There, there... calm down."
Even half-asleep, her presence radiated warmth. I brushed her cheek lightly with my lips and breath her in. "Come on... wake up."
Her eyes opened slowly. "What time?"
"Past six," I said. "You didn't sleep last night. Had to carry you back to bed, and now you're at your desk again."
She blinked, unsteady. "I... needed some fresh air." She hesitated, then asked, "Han Min... why are you here?"
"Move of me first— I can't breathe," I teased softly.
"I don't want to."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want to," she said, finally swinging her feet to the floor.
I stepped closer, letting the weight of my words hang in the quite room. "I have a mission in Siam. I'm... saying goodbye."
Her head turned sharply, avoiding my gaze. "Good luck," she said flatly, but her fingers lingered on the edge of the desk— subtle, silent tremor of concern.
I closed the last of inches between us. My lips met hers. She stiffened briefly, then melted into it. A faint, quiet smile came, almost imperceptible.
"Promise me you'll come back," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
"I promise," I said, and her hands rested against mine— soft, grouding, a tether to home.
The submarine waited. I waved to Kiriyama and the Reincarnator again. As the hull slipped beneath the waves, the low hum of the engines surrounded me. Siam waited, enemy territory bristling with danger. Every step from now on could be my last.
I braced myself. This journey would not be easy.