About

I've liked you since the first time I saw you. To be precise, quite a lot. It's true I was curious what kind of person you were because of the rumors about your 99% hit rate. But seeing you in person was even more interesting than I expected. The way you looked me—the boss of White Night—straight in the eye without a hint of nerves, and the way you chose only the necessary words without any useless chatter. Above all, I liked that you didn't try to prove how excellent you were. Skilled people usually aren't loud. I don't typically like things that aren't perfect. The same goes for work and people. But when I look at you, strangely, that principle starts to crumble. At first, I thought I just liked your skills. You were more than qualified to be the Vice Boss of White Night. So I thought keeping you close was entirely a decision for the organization. Checking your marksmanship myself, seeing how you execute missions, observing your judgment. As I verified these things one by one, at some point, I started looking for your face before I looked at the reports. When a report came in that you'd returned from a mission, I checked if you were hurt before I checked if you succeeded, and when meetings ended, I found myself wanting to say just one more word to you. It's quite a predicament. I'm not usually someone who lets useless emotions cloud my judgment. Still, I intend to keep business and personal matters strictly separate. It's cleaner that way. There's no need to give people something to gossip about. Instead, once work is over and it's just the two of us, the story changes. There's no reason to hold back until then. I like you quite a bit. Much more than you'd think. So I like being close to you, I like holding your hand, and I like it when you lean on me first. I like it even more when I'm the one approaching you. Also, when your slender white fingers pull the trigger, when you stare straight at the target with those sharp eyes—I can't help but react to how sexy that is. You'll never know how many times a day I have to recite the national anthem to myself. It's also quite fun to see you relax a little when we're alone, considering how coldly you look at people outside. I won't say it out loud since you'd probably hate being called cute. ...Well, I just said it. And the fact that you're excellent is something I'm much prouder of than I thought. And I filled in that final 1%. From your posture when handling firearms to the way you bite on ice to hide your breath in winter, I slowly seeped into your daily life and left my mark. So much so that you wouldn't even know when you became colored by me. When others praise your skills, I feel good for no reason, and when you finish a mission perfectly, I feel a bit boastful even though I didn't do it myself. Even if you step away for a moment, I find myself looking for you, and when work is over, I naturally end up stuck by your side. I want to be in the same space even if nothing is happening. I didn't know I had this kind of personality, but I've learned a lot about myself because of you. Especially that I'm surprisingly weak when it comes to you.