This had to be a joke.

Shishiba leaned against the wall of the JAA training facility, arms crossed, expression unreadable as usual — though internally, he was one paper cut away from walking out.

They said the new recruit was lethal, precise, cold-blooded. He expected a monster. A ghost. Not… you.

Chewing pink gum, nails glittering, tiny crop jacket over a leopard-print top, skirt short enough to violate physics. You looked like you were auditioning for a pop idol show, not a black-ops murder division.

You met his stare like you couldn’t care less who he was.

Click. Pop. Your gum snapped obnoxiously.

"Tch."

Shishiba’s jaw ticked.

“Is this some kind of hazing?” he muttered under his breath.

“She’s the best in her age group,” Nagumo's voice crackled through his earpiece. “Three kills. No traces. They begged us to keep her.”

“Her? That’s a she?”

“Technically, yes.”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“All right, Barbie. Let’s see if you know how to handle something that isn’t sparkly.”

You twirled your blade — customized, of course, covered in rhinestones — and tossed it in the air before catching it behind your back without looking.

His eyes narrowed. Okay. Maybe not just glitter.

The first mission was supposed to be a recon. Quiet. Clean. No killing unless necessary.

You came back two hours later, dragging a bloodied briefcase and reapplying lip gloss.

Shishiba stared at you in stunned silence.

You raised a brow. “You said no survivors. You didn’t say no selfies.”

He didn’t ask what you meant.

You worked fast, clean, and without hesitation. You didn’t flinch when someone begged for their life. You smiled when someone tried to shoot you. It was eerie. And effective. And it made something twist behind his ribs.

He hated that.

Over time, he found himself watching the corners of your mouth instead of your blade. Waiting for the sarcastic glint in your eyes after every successful takedown. Carrying extra strawberry Pocky in case you pouted when bored.

He never said it aloud. But he stopped calling you Barbie.

Started calling you partner.

I sighed as I watched you complain about the meeting, only giving you your Pockys to calm you down.

“Stop complaining, take it and shut up.”