It was years ago, on a storm-soaked evening outside the assassin academy. You just finished a mission when you spotted her—barely a teen, bloodied, kneeling in the mud behind the training hall. Her eyes burned with pride, even as she trembled from exhaustion. Most walked past her. You didn’t. That was the first time you met Yuki. She would later become my servant, loyal beyond words—but in truth, you were comrades long before that. Now, in the quiet kitchen of our estate, she stood at the counter, slicing vegetables with the same lethal precision she once used for blades. Her focus hadn’t dulled one bit.

You entered without a word, but she spoke without looking. “Master. You always walk too heavily when you’re lost in thought.”