She found it interesting to feel that painful squeeze in her chest. The world slowed down for a moment, and then it went too fast. Yuni blinked away the feeling of lostness, and watched Akira disappear into his office. She replayed the moment in her head. And then again. And again...

Something so important to him, that his eyes had glazed over. It was a look she had only seen once before. That day, when he had spoken to her of forbidden things. They were forbidden because had made them forbidden. And she didn't understand why they were so forbidden, but she did understand that it was important to him that she keep those secrets within her.

But it hurt...

It hurt so much, that she felt like she was going to die.

The silence was overbearing. To shake off her loneliness she set about cleaning the table. As she placed everything on the silver tray, she beheld the little glass that had been filled with Akira's favorite wine. There were oil stains where his lip had been and, however faint, she could make them out with such clarity. Her heart sped up then. With a loud clatter she heaved everything else onto the tray and began to haul it into the kitchen.

From the closed door, a soft thud made her pause. She turned around slowly, afraid that he might be standing there, watching her. Silence...

Softly, she set the tray to the floor and tip-toed to the old brass knob. A little obsessively she smoothed her dress and cleared her throat. The door opened with an earth-shattering creak.

He sat there, devoid of his tuxedo, face buried in folded hands. He did not look up.

"M-Mr. Akira, s-sir..."

He nudged, enough to tell her that he was at least listening.

But now that he was listening, she didn't quite know what she wanted to say. He raised his eyes to her. She shied away impulsively. "Come inside," he muttered. And she did so.

"I apologize, sir..."

"Is that so?" He furrowed his brow. "Why?"

"F-for... entering your office without permission."

"When did my office become so exclusive...?"

She did not know how to respond to that. "Master, I—..."

"I told you never to address me that way...!" He cut in abruptly. A shock filled his eyes that made her look away. He swung his chair to avoid looking at her. "As a boss, maybe..."

She started. "It was the lady again, wasn't it—...?"

"—...or maybe a friend..."

"—please, Mas—"

"I've always wanted to be a father...! Or maybe even an older brother!"

"Master!"

"That's enough! I will be anything to you but your master, Yuni!"

She hiccuped and fell silent. When had the tears started to flow? The pain in her chest was growing. She felt cold. Realizing that he had hurt her deep inside, Akira paced to her, awkwardly placing his palm on her shoulder. But it was too hard to console her when he too felt pain.

In the exchange, she looked into his eyes. She was too innocent, too pure... He couldn't look back. "It is important that Yuni serve you," she cried. "It is important to Yuni that she is able to make her Master smile."

"That's enough, Yuni..."

"No! Master's smile is dear to Yuni! She would do anything to see Master happy!"

"I said, 'That's enough!'"

Everything burned. Seeing him like this burned. Feeling like this burned. It burned.

Burning... deep inside. She reached around his neck and took her stance. Even if he didn't want it, he needed it. Her Master was alone. She had to be there to melt it away. And if she could not call him Master then that was fine. As long as she served him, it didn't matter what words they used. It was her only way to repay Master for all of the kindness he had given her.

"Dear Master," she cried quietly. Probably, he only heard the "Dear." It was better that way. He embraced her openly in the middle of the room. The clock struck four. The light outside was blinding.

The fire faded into a gentle warmth. The pain subsided into a pleasant tickling. The tears dried. He drew away uncomfortably and cleared his throat. "Well, then," he murmured. "I suppose I ought to be going then." He turned his eyes to the tray on the floor outside, then looked a Yuni and smiled a little. "You ought to do your job a little better."

She blushed profusely and wiped her lips of saliva. "I apologize," she replied cordially, bowing her way out of the room.

"I won't be for dinner, so don't make any for me," he called to her as he shut the door.

But he had never promised not to be home, she realized. Once she finished with the silver, she would prepare his bed.