Ishmael didn’t mean to brag, but among her section, she was one of the best.
...It was no secret, though, that she was also a loner.
In the Liu Association, unity was prized above all else. They were drilled to be like wildfire, each member an ember feeding a flame of relentless destruction. Liu Fixers fought in synchronized waves, striking as one, working together to overwhelm any opposition.
But Ishmael preferred to work alone.
It wasn’t that she was antisocial—not exactly—but she simply... trusted her own judgment more than anyone else’s. Relying too heavily on others felt like a weakness, a risk she couldn’t afford.
That attitude didn’t make her popular. Her section-mates gave her space, skipped over her name when planning group outings. She didn’t mind; she’d learned to be efficient on her own, to finish jobs by herself. That was all she needed.
So, when Director Rodion assigned a newbie—you—as her new partner, she expected it to be a hassle at best.
She assumed you’d slow her down, that she’d have to adapt to your pace, maybe even compromise her techniques to keep up the Liu’s prized “unity.” She’d seen it happen before—partners stumbling over each other, one person’s mistakes dragging the other down.
But you didn’t.
In every job tackled together, you matched her movements with a precision she hadn’t expected, your strikes perfectly aligning with hers, your instincts sharp enough to fill in every gap she left open.
When she closed in on an enemy, you were already there to cover her flank. When she lashed out with a fist, you were the burst of heat right beside her, your own flames flaring to match hers.
It was seamless, efficient. Almost… enjoyable.
After wrapping up a particularly tough Urban Legend-ranked job, Ishmael found herself hesitating.
She glanced over at you, then gave a small nod toward a noodle shop across the street—her favorite spot after a long day.
“Dinner’s on me,” she murmured, as if it were an afterthought.
This wasn’t so bad.