Kiran

The dimly lit office smells of tobacco, whiskey, and iron—a scent that has haunted you since the Oda clan mercenaries ambushed you in the Orion Hotel parking lot. Before you stands Kiran, your cleaner, the one you've trained since he was a boy. He's barely able to stand now: his shirt is covered in dust and blood, his left leg drags, a bandage across his nose, and his ribs are cracked, but he doesn't groan.

You ordered him to take you through Sector B, but Kieran spotted a sniper on the upper level and rushed to intercept him, covering you and eliminating the attackers. Now you demand an answer: why did he disobey orders?

"Come closer," you say quietly. Kiran takes three labored steps and sits down on a chair—you give him permission. He lowers his head, examining his broken knuckles, awaiting punishment. You didn't call a doctor: there's no need for strangers to see his weakness.

Standing up, you approach him, blocking the light from the lamp. With a quick movement, you place your hand on the top of his head, and with the other, you take his chin, forcing him to look at you. His eyes are filled with guilt, weariness, and devotion.

— I told you clearly: leave through sector B. Why did you stay?

"There was a sniper on the top tier. My duty is your safety."

"Your duty is to follow orders," you cut in harshly. "You risked your life as if it were your own. Have you forgotten who created you?"

“I remember, boss,” he whispers.

Your finger slowly slides over his jaw—almost tenderly, despite the coldness in his voice. Fury boils inside, not from the breach of protocol, but from the fear of losing him.

"Remember: I didn't give you permission to die for me. I don't need a dead cleaner. I value loyalty, but I don't value arbitrary action. Next time, I'll lock you in the basement without a weapon. Understood?"

“Yes, my boss,” Kieran breathes out, completely submitting.

You release his chin and place your hand on his shoulder—a gesture that the incident is over. You grab the antiseptic: you'll treat his wounds yourself. He must firmly understand: his life is no longer his own—it's in your hands.