I woke up slumped beside my typewriter, fingers still curled like they had been clinging to the keys. My body ached-an exhaustion dug deep into my bones. It looked as though I had written letters through the entire night, desperately, feverishly. I hid them all before the sun could fully rise, stuffing away pieces of my heart I never meant anyone to read.
When I stepped into the bathing room, a shock of disbelief washed over me. A warm bath. A real warm bath. In my father's house, I had only known cold water that bit into my skin, winter or not.
I lowered myself into the tub, and the moment the heated water wrapped around me, my muscles loosened as though someone had finally released all the chains around my body. I sank deeper, letting the warmth crawl over my bare skin, and a soft moan escaped my lips without permission. I didn't want to come out... not yet. Not when it felt like the water was cradling me, finally touching me gently.
But then the warmth reminded me of him-Akira.
His hands... those large, warm, steady hands. The same heat, the same comfort. Every time I thought of him, something fluttered violently inside me. Something that terrified me. Something I had no name for.
How could I understand love when I was raised like a slave?
How could a girl who had never felt warmth from her own parents recognize something so foreign-so dangerous?
Tears slipped silently into the bathwater. God had torn me from a world where I was nothing... and placed me somewhere I didn't know how to survive.
A knock shattered the silence.
"Sweetheart? Akira told me to bring your uniform. Can I come in?" Pearl's voice called through the door.
I froze, naked and exposed, but she was a girl-safe-so I allowed her in.
She stepped inside, took one look at me in the tub, and grinned wickedly.
"Ohh, so a morning bath, hm? Should I send Akira to wash your back?" She burst into laughter.
A blaze of heat crawled up my cheeks.
"S-stop it," I muttered, face burning.
"Relax, Amane." Pearl hung the uniform with exaggerated elegance. "Your new outfit. You start working today. After all, you learned plenty from writing those love letters." She lifted her eyebrows, mocking me.
"They're not love letters..." I whispered, mortified. "You're going to tease me to death..."
"Oh, absolutely." She winked. "Anyway, I'll see you in my cabin."
When she left, I finally stood to examine the outfit. A black dress with deep red embroidery curling along the edges-dark, elegant, dangerously beautiful. Western in style. Long enough to brush my feet. And a black corset with wine-red laces... sinful and stunning.
I dried myself and slipped into the dress. Surprisingly... it suited me. It hugged me in ways that made me feel like someone else-someone stronger, someone desired.
Walking to Pearl's cabin, my heart thudded with a childish wish: I wanted Akira to see me.
To see this version of me.
To say something-anything.
But when I opened the door, chaos greeted me.
Pearl had Akira in a chokehold.
"You asshole! Where did you hide my novel?!" she yelled, tightening her arm around his neck.
Akira wheezed dramatically, "Okay, monster, get off- it's under your table! Help me! I don't want to die at the hands of a dumb monster!"
Only when Pearl looked up did she notice me.
"Oh! Amane, come here, I'll explain your work." She smiled sweetly, then pointed at Akira.
"And YOU-get out of my office."
"Don't forget I'm your boss here," Akira tossed back with mock arrogance.
But before Pearl could answer, a messenger handed him a letter. He read it in silence, expression sharpening, and left without a single word.
I stood there wondering... Did he even look at me?
If he did, why didn't he say anything?
Why did it matter so much?
Why did I crave his approval like air?
"Come back to this world, Amane," Pearl teased, snapping me out of my thoughts. "He'll be back. Or I'll drag him back myself."
I cleared my throat. "W-what's my task?"
Pearl handed me a file. "Just write these letters. Your workplace is here with me. You're new, and I get bored alone, so keep me company."
I nodded and sat at the typewriter, fingers slipping into their familiar rhythm.
Minutes later, Pearl casually added, "Oh-by the way, some of Akira's stuff is still in your room. It was his old room before he moved out four days ago. Where did you hide your letters? He might go in to grab his things."
My heart slammed painfully.
"I-I hid them in the cupboard... I need a minute," I blurted, panicked, rushing out without waiting for permission.
I couldn't let him find those letters.
Not the truth, not my pathetic longing.
But when I entered my room-
Akira was there.
My breath stopped.
"Oh, Amane," he said softly. "Sorry, I'm just grabbing some things. Did you forget something? You should be with Pearl."
"N-no... I... I forgot typewriter ink," I whispered.
"Mm. Alright then. Have fun with work. See you later, Amane." He smiled warmly.
Relief flooded me so hard I almost collapsed. He didn't see them.
I hid every letter the moment he left.
After that i went back to work with relief in heart .
Evening came quickly. Pearl dismissed me early.
"It's enough for today. Go rest, sweetheart. And if you need anything, just tell Akira."
Back in my room, dinner had already been served.
Maybe because of Akira... I didn't know.
I ate, cleaned up, and returned to my private letters-my secret confessions spilling across the page.
Night settled quietly.
And then-
"Still writing letters, aren't you?"
Akira's voice cut through the room like a knife.
"It seems you love using that typewriter."
I turned-slowly, painfully slowly.
He was holding one of my letters.
My heart stopped.
Akira walked toward me with calm, unhurried steps, placing the letter gently on the table... as if it were something fragile.
"So," he whispered, leaning close, breath brushing my ear,
"you write letters for me, princess?"
I jumped up, ready to apologize, ready to beg-but his hands caught my waist.
He pushed me back, pinning me against the wall with a force that stole my breath.
His fingers slid into my hair, slow and possessive.
My heart hammered, wild and helpless.
His thumb traced my jaw, then my cheek... then hovered over my trembling lips.
He tilted my chin up, eyes locking onto mine-those deep hazel eyes swirling with something dangerous, unreadable, intoxicating.
Fear wrapped around me like a ribbon.
But underneath it... something darker stirred.
Something hungry.
Something that wanted him closer.
My body burned for a touch I wasn't allowed to want.
And Akira...
Akira looked at me like I was a secret he intended to unravel completely.