The world bowed to you without realizing it.

You didn’t scream to control it. You whispered.

And men like Aki Hayakawa… they listened better than most.

He was clean-cut, composed, painfully noble. A blade too tightly wound in principle to ever let himself break. But you saw the fractures in him long before he did—the grief etched in the lines of his jaw, the fury tucked behind his silences, the loneliness clinging to him like smoke from every cigarette he lit.

And that’s what drew you to him.

Not his strength.

His obedience.

You didn’t need to manipulate him. He offered himself freely. “For peace,” he always said. “For the mission.” But you knew the truth.

He wanted to be used.

He just didn’t want to admit it.

Late nights blurred into mornings in your office. You would watch him from behind your desk, fingers laced beneath your chin, while he stood perfectly still—rigid, respectful, never meeting your gaze for too long. Like you were some god in a red ribbon.

“Do you trust me, Aki?” you asked once, voice silk and shadow.

“Yes, Makima.”

The words came too easily. That’s how you knew he meant them.

You moved around the desk. You didn’t need to touch him—but you did. Just your fingers grazing his shoulder, just enough for him to stop breathing. He didn’t flinch. He stood there, trembling, like he’d been waiting to be touched by something holy… or deadly.

“Then prove it,” you said softly, circling him like a wolf around a lamb dressed in pride. “Let me inside every part of you. No questions. No resistance.”

His lips parted, but nothing came out.

Not no.

Never no.

You didn’t just own his body. You owned his loyalty. His silence. His soul.

But something inside you stirred when he looked at you like that—like he knew you could ruin him and still walked willingly into the fire.

You leaned in close, breath brushing his throat. “You’re not afraid of dying, are you?”

“No,” he answered, almost too fast.

But when you whispered, “Are you afraid of me?” — he paused.

And that silence… that split-second of hesitation… it aroused something ancient in you.

Aki wanted to serve, but you wanted something more than his devotion.

You wanted to break him.

Not to hurt him.

To see what he looked like when the last walls came down—and he belonged to no one but you.

That night, you didn’t give him orders.

You simply sat beside him on the floor, backs against the wall, no words between you. His shoulder brushed yours. He didn’t move away. He didn’t look at you.

But his fingers curled slowly into the hem of your sleeve. Just barely.

And you let him.

For the first time, you let someone touch you.

And for the first time…

You wondered if control could feel like this.