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Remember who you are.
The Director had drilled that sentence into her like a mantra. Remember who you are. Don't forget yourself. Don't forget your place. Don't step out of line. Don't fall.
Who am I?
She's a soldier. A terrifying, heartless assassin. She follows her orders blindly, without fail. She never objects, never says no. She kills. She protects.
She is a dutiful, patient civil servant. She's never been anyone special. She's a quiet background extra. She's the stranger someone more important passes on the street. No one has ever noticed her and no one ever will.
And yet… luckily, she's an older sister to a hard-working, earnest young man. A stepmother to a compassionate, tenderhearted little girl.
She's a wife. She still can't wrap her head around that one. She is someone's wife. For one glorious moment, someone looked directly at her.
But actually… not really.
Don't forget yourself.
She is a fake wife. A placeholder, a co-conspirator. Someone who was in the right place at the right time and needed something from someone who happened to need something from her too. They shook hands in agreement instead of exchanging real vows declared with true love and honest intentions.
Never forget.
Eventually the deal will end and he will move on and walk away without another glance at her from over his shoulder. Thankful for her time and her cooperation, but not thankful for her. Never grateful for knowing her. For the miraculous miracle of meeting her and loving her.
In the end, he will be fine. She won't linger. Not in his mind, or in his heart, or in his soul.
She must never step out of line.
So when she falls, it's a mix of uncomfortable guilt, dizzying butterflies, and a beautiful, aching swell in her heart that spreads throughout her whole body.
It takes her a while to realize what it is she feels. And when the epiphany comes, she thinks: Uh-oh. Oh dear. Crap, goddammit, fuck, fuck, fuck.
She has certainly stepped out of line now!
That's why, she decides, it's a secret! Not a shameful secret. Love for someone like Loid could never be shameful. More like her own private, precious gem, hidden in the quiet and most safe parts of her heart.
She will protect him, and her daughter, their little family unit, with everything she has until she can't.
In her delusions, for the rest of her life.
In reality, until he tells her it's time to go.
For now, she is his secret protector, and she takes care of him as best she can, when he lets her. She's happy… content, like this. She gets to see him first thing in the morning, blue eyes hazy with sleep deprivation when he smiles at her from the kitchen, making breakfast for Anya, and for her. She gets to send him off with a friendly smile from their respective doors at night. She has the privilege of seeing him the way few others have, relaxed in his home, irritable from a long day or smiling softly as he puts Anya to bed.
She cherishes all of it. She tries really, really hard not to want more. His strong arms wrapped around her. The close press of his face against hers, breath across her lips. The feel of his skin under her fingers. His beautiful voice whispering in her ear as she drifts to sleep.
She's grateful for what she has. She will never, ever tell him. She will never dare ask for more. This is as far as she will fall, just a little tumble. He is never going to love her back. So this is good.
Her too big, squishy heart swells with love and gratitude for the chance to meet him and know him like this.
It's enough.
Her cold, cold assassin heart breaks into a million tiny pieces every time she looks at him. Gorgeous, kind, elusive. Completely untouchable.
It will never be enough.
So that's how life goes, for a little while.
Yuri calls her at work about some party, tears in his voice, begging Yor to come over as soon as she can. Before she clocks out, she fretfully changes into her regular clothes and fixes her hair, nervously smiling at her reflection in the mirror. Loid is at the party too.
This is her life now, when she thinks of seeing him. It's inconvenient, she sees him every day. She's more aware than ever of her body and her looks and the space she takes up. She wonders if he ignores her imperfections or if he somehow admires them. Does he still think she's pretty?
When Yor gets to the front door, she can't help but smooth the flyaways of her hairdo, biting her lip. She stares at the cherry wood in front of her, raising her knuckles to knock. She lets out a heavy sigh and straightens her shoulders. Remember who you are. She can't embarrass Loid or Yuri at this party. She must play her little part in this play.
When the door opens, Yor smiles brightly, and indulges Yuri's wails and hugs. She greets the hosts. Her heart always races so uncomfortably at this part, meeting new people and trying to make a good impression. These are Yuri's co-workers! Yor hopes they like her.
And then the crowd parts and she meets her husbands eyes and she forgets herself entirely.
Her heart swells to unmanageable proportions, her chest can't hold it in any longer. She almost floats away. His sweater looks so soft, she wants to fall into his arms like she did all those days ago and breathe him in until he fills her up and she is finally whole. His hair is down across his forehead, softer than his sweater. His smile is shaky. Loid, in contrast with her, looks like he's about to tip forward and collapse at the sight of her.
Yor immediately feels guilty on her little brothers behalf. Why did he drag Loid to this party with all these people he doesn't know? She remembers a while ago, Loid confessing to her that he doesn't enjoy social functions, just like her. It made Yor happy, that they had something in common. Reading his body language now, he is clearly uncomfortable here. She has to be his anchor. She has to protect him!
Yor rushes to him and everyone around them collectively zeros in and analyzes every move they make in this dance.
"Hello! Are you okay?" Yor asks, stepping so close to him that the tips of their shoes touch.
Loid is off-kilter even more, somehow she has already made it worse. His eyes widen and he clears his throat before he answers.
"I'm fine. Of course I'm fine," he's giving off a frantic energy that no one but her seems to notice. "I'm glad you're here. How was work?"
She soars. Was he really? Glad? To see her of all people?
She feels her cheeks warm and then his hand is on her hip and he's twisting her in a different direction and she's too lost in the sensation of his hand on her body and his whole being invading her senses that she can only be led to wherever he wants to take her, her blood rushing through her veins and mind blank but for him.
It's just all a blur after that. Loid sticks close to her, way, way too close.
Yuri introduces her to people and his life is important to her so she tries, she does, but they are all just a fuzzy haze of names and faces.
There is one face she recognizes, hovering in the background, watching her closely. But Yor can only get a glimpse, unable to put the pieces together before Loid's hand on her hip squeezes and she stumbles as he spins her somewhere new.
Yuri is fuming, taking up most of the attention from the party attendees. It makes Yor giggle with pride, Yuri is always so full of energy, the life of a party! Unlike her. Beside her, Loid relaxes at the sound of her laugh, his shoulders easing down from his ears.
"Hands off my sister, Loi-Loi!! How many times do I have to tell you!" Yuri spits, lunging for them. He's stopped by a pretty, stylish girl Yor vaguely remembers being introduced to. Chloe. She's strong and formidable, to be able to pull Yuri back by the collar and turn him docile. Somewhat docile.
"Chill dude. They're just standing next to each other," Chloe laughs.
"He's got his arm around her waist," Yuri wails.
"And I've got my arm around your neck. Your point?"
"It's indecent!"
"It's really, really not."
Yuri huffs before straightening up, tugging Chloe's arm away from him. He holds it for a second longer than necessary, before slowly letting go. Yuri is quiet now, muttering something to the girl next to him. She only shakes her head and laughs again in return. It's subtle, but Yor notices. She quirks an eyebrow.
"Oh my," Yor whispers to Loid. He crouches down to her level, ear near her mouth. Another subtle gesture, but the kind a real husband would naturally, instinctually do with his real wife. Yor feels like she's drifting in a tide. She dares to whisper in his ear, leaning more into him. "Maybe Yuri's met his match?"
Loid's body sags further, an easy smirk slipping up one side of his face. "She's gutsy for sure."
His eyes are calmer, like the quiet, brilliant blue of the waters on that island all those months ago, that precious stop in the middle of a hectic work trip. Their eyes meet, and so close like this she can make out every single perfect way his eyes glitter at her in his charming amusement.
Yor holds herself still, taking in the exquisite features of his lovely face. Her cruel, helpless, once dead heart plays tricks on her. Loid can't possibly be looking at her the same way, his brilliant ocean blue eyes are not turning darker, growing more hungry, pulling her under and further into the depths with him…
What the heck are you doing? She scolds herself. Remember who you are.
The Director's voice in her head is stern and unyielding.
She blinks rapidly and looks away.
You are just his fake wife.
This is just pretend.
I am no one.
This doesn't mean anything to him.
The party winds down, the room empties slowly. Yor is glad Loid seems to have relaxed and maybe even enjoyed himself a little. He stuck close to her side and they stole glances and laughed at every interaction Yuri had with Chloe. It all felt so wonderful, despite herself.
Still, she feels heavy from all the acting and socializing. And a little hollow from having to constantly remind herself of her place. She is ready to go home, so she gives Loid's arm a tug and makes eye contact yet again. He smiles at her and turns to Yuri to start their goodbyes.
The man in the background approaches them. Yor feels a chill go down her spine, caution and awareness spreading throughout her body as Loid barely stiffens beside her. He has dirty blonde hair and a scar on the side of his face. He smiles warmly at her and holds out his hand.
"Nice to finally meet you! I'm Chad. I work with Yuri," the man says.
Yor goes very, very cold. Something is terribly wrong. She has met this man before, she is sure of it.
He instinctively makes her feel both very afraid and teeth rattlingly angry. She can see him standing before her, imposing in a green uniform in a dingy alleyway. She can feel the killing intent and rage rising inside her.
This man… works with… Yuri?
Why is he acting as if he has just now met me?
He threatened her family, all those months ago. How dare he- Yor was sure it was him. The man in the alleyway.
What is happening?
There was something about the way Loid is standing there next to her. He is just. Standing. His smile is polite. His eyes are warm. His posture is relaxed and natural.
But Yor can practically sense the panic in his mind bouncing around the inside of her own. Can hear his stomach grumbling in anxiety. Can feel his knees going weak.
Why?
Why is her husband acting this way?
Why has he been avoiding this man for an hour?
Why is this happening?
Why why why why why why-
The man falters at whatever he sees in Yor's eyes. His own narrows, his hand lowers slowly. Somehow, everyone around them seems to perk up in awareness. Preparing themselves. The atmosphere grows so thick with tension, Yor starts suffocating. Only Yuri glances around in confusion, and Loid stands there with that simple smile. Just stands there. Faking. Pretending. Acting.
For some reason it makes Yor sick.
She does not want to face this right now. Possibly ever. Something is very wrong and she cannot deal. Might not ever be able to. It is going to break her into pieces. Tear her too big, too naive, too lonely, too cold, aching heart apart. Blow up her life as she knows it. Destroy every one and every single thing she loves.
Whatever this is, it is very, very bad.
She is not doing this.
Yor reaches for the man's hand quickly and shakes it enthusiastically. A wide, plastic smile on her face. Just get through this and then run away and ignore ignore ignore. It is fine.
"Nice to meet you! I'm Yuri's sister!" Yor practically shouts at him. She cringes at the shrillness of her voice. Loid lets out a small, unnoticeable, frightened breath next to her.
Chad chuckles easily and the temperature of the room drops back down a few degrees. "Trust me. I know. Yuri never stops talking about you. I've heard so much about you."
Yor's stomach plummets further. She does not want this man to know her. She can only laugh weakly in return, scrambling for a response.
"Ahahahaha, Yuri is so sweet, I love my brother, it was nice to meet his co-workers, my co-workers are nice, I worked a lot today, I am so tired. Hahahahaha," Yor has no idea what she is saying anymore.
Loid gently puts his hand to the small of her back. Yor jolts and feels the tension in the room return in response. Loid glances at her helplessly, but she can't return eye contact. Everyone here is dissecting them like bugs under a microscope. She just wants to run.
Loid is just such a good actor. Too good. "I think that's our cue to head home so Yor can get some rest. Thank you so much for having us," he turns to another man who is squinting at them both.
Despite whatever he sees, the guy smiles and shakes Loid's hand. "Hey, thanks for coming by. And no hard feelings about all the grilling," he shares another easy laugh with Loid. He turns to Yor, pointing a thumb at Loid and grinning wide. "You got a good husband here, he put up with a lot for you tonight! It's obvious he loves you very much."
Despite everything, Yor's foolish, squishy heart swells with hope.
Loid quickly steps away from her, hiding his face, pretending to struggle with his coat. The hope vanishes as soon as it arrived.
"You think so?" she asks this stranger.
"He said so himself. And I think he proved that to your brother by now. Right? Yuri?"
The whole room turns to Yuri, too young and too stubborn. He shoves his hands in his pockets and stares down at his shoes. "Tch. I guess so."
Chloe laughs next to him and shoves him forward. Yuri snaps out of it and glances at Yor. She looks away. She can't do this.
Something is wrong.
Yuri steps closer to her and crouches to her eye level. The confusion on his face makes Yor want to cry. "Sis?"
Yor ignores it all and smiles wide at her little brother. "See you later Yuri!" She sings in that fragile, airy voice. Like she used to when she was little and scared about surviving the night, but desperate to hide it from him. She hugs him lightly, quickly, tapping him on the back twice.
She can barely look at his young face, his questioning smile as he happily says his farewells.
Yor and Loid walk home in silence.
The sun is setting, the air is cold with a flimsy, early spring breeze. The world is orange and purple and blue and full of promise and Yor feels none of it. All she can feel is confusion and sickening dread.
For the first time, she confronts the horror of falling in love head on.
All those weeks since she realized she loved Loid, sitting there with Anya with a hand on her pathetic heart, she had justified it to herself to make herself feel better.
Oh, but it was just a stumble!
It's a good thing, to love someone good like Loid for as long as she can. It would be good for her, to experience a love like this. Quietly. From a distance. An achingly sweet, rosy wonder, her love for her husband has been. She is connecting with the world more and discovering what it means to be a full, complete person and not just some heartless killer. She is trying. She is protecting good people, people she cares about and is proud of. People she would die for.
In the end, it would all be worth it.
When she realized she loved him, she also immediately came to conclusion she would never tell him. She is not a good girl. She certainly did not deserve the kind of love someone good like Loid offered to the world. He is too good. A good boy.
The idea that wonderful Loid Forger would ever love her back is laughable. Impossible.
She forgot herself. How could she forget herself?
She forgot her place. She allowed herself to wish for more. She is not a good girl. She can never have more. That's why this whole damn thing has been a secret!
This is what she deserved. This is why everything is falling apart right now, from some confusing party attended by a bunch of liars.
Yor can't understand how or why, but she knows somehow that the end is near.
Whatever happened today at that party is the first deep cut.
She stops walking and uses every ounce of strength to hold herself up. Otherwise she'd fall to the ground in her grief.
A few steps ahead of her, Loid stops and turns to her and it hurts.
It hurts to look into his eyes this time.
Soon, she is going to have to stop loving him.
His eyes are like the dark blue water in a freezing lake underneath a deep, impenetrable layer of ice. Calculating. Cunning. Deceptive. And she is trapped.
"Loid," she gasps, drowning again and again. She watches him inhale.
This is not the pleasant, patient Loid Forger. This is someone she would not ever be allowed to know.
He studies her, eyes narrow, measuring her up. He is assessing her as if they are about to fight, rough and relentless, to the death, right here at twilight in the middle of a random suburban street. This man breaks hearts, manipulates and lies and cheats and he is still so perfect and so beautiful and it hurts.
He is just going to leave her behind and watch her drown, sinking deeper and deeper while he swims to the surface alone.
He is going to make her stop loving him.
He is going to consume her, make her feel everything her body and soul can possibly feel, she just knows it. She's shivering from the pleasure and despair of him all over her already.
And then he will break her apart with his bare hands.
He is going to walk away from her and not look back at her once. He will forget her immediately, all while he lingers inside of her for the rest of her life.
Her husband built walls too high and she walked straight into them. She is still waiting at the bottom, walking back and forth, searching for a crack.
There is that endearing furrow in the middle of his brows. The wind ruffles the edges of his hair. His eyes glow as he looks at her. A lush, vibrant, intoxicating pull. The last sunset light hits his hair and skin and turns all of him golden. Etheral. The gold reflects in his blue eyes and now they are electric, like lightning in a glass bottle. She gasps for air like she has never breathed before, heart pounding out of her chest.
Longing for him.
She realizes, as much as she loves his warmth and his sincerity, god dammit, she wants this version of him, standing in front of her, whatever it is, whatever it means, so, so much more.
She is transfixed by him. Whoever he is. He is so incandescently, terrifyingly everything she wants in this world. She will take him and everything that he is, over and over. She will accept him and love him and nothing else and she will never, ever complain. He can chew her up and spit her out for all she cares, as long as it feels as good as this feels. Him looking at her with that burn in his eyes.
She is going to say it.
If the end is near, why not just say it? What does it matter if he breaks her pitiful little heart now or later? It's a guarantee either way.
He should know, at least, that she has never stopped looking at him since that very first day.
She opens her mouth.
She's either going to choke it out in agony or scream it at him in a hopeless rage.
He told that man he loved me.
"Loid, I-," she whispers.
His eyes flash again and she shatters.
He was lying.
He is such a damn good liar.
How could he ever possibly want her back?
Remember who you are.
I am nothing to him.
What will she do if he tells her it is time to go? How will she hold on to all of the pieces of him, all of the memories? The parts of him she wants but he won't show her?
How can she possibly let him go? How can she possibly let Anya go?
She isn't ready. She hasn't had enough time to love him yet. She wants to be selfish, for just a little longer.
She's not ready to confront all of the glass shards all around their feet. She wants to sleep for weeks, forget whatever happened at the party. Forget that he is lying to her.
If she can just hold on to this for a little longer, if he will just let her stay for a little longer, she will tiptoe and spin and dance around this mess until her fighters body gives out from the exhaustion of pretending.
She shuts her mouth. She crumbles in defeat.
"Never mind," she sighs.
There is another flash in his eyes. Not a good one. Annoyance? Disappointment?
Regret?
She is projecting. She is just his fake wife.
But then he sighs. A tremulous release of the breath he has been holding since she called for him.
"Okay," he whispers back.
Then he slowly holds out his hand.
She stares at it as she fights against the way her heart flutters helplessly. He's beguiling and steady in front of her while she trembles.
She looks up into his eyes. There is a gray blue melancholy deep, deep in those depths she can't comprehend. That something he is trying to hide from her.
She could look at him until the sun sets and rises again.
But she takes his hand, laces her fingers between his. There is no other choice for her.
He is so very warm and alive and she knows he is keeping secrets from her. And his secrets are the kind that are going to destroy her.
And yet, she still wants him. She wants to hold his hand and walk with him forever, side-by-side, their shadows merging into shapeless monsters in the street.
Remember who you are.
Don't forget yourself. Don't forget your place. Don't step out of line. Don't fall. The Director's voice echos in her head. Torturous and unforgiving.
Who am I?
She is an older sister and a doting mother. She is an obedient soldier and a heartless killer.
She is this mans wife. For better or for fucking worse. She is going to stay with him for as long as she can. Until the day he tells her to let go.
She clutches his hand tightly. He squeezes back. They don't speak another word.
They hold onto each other and drown.