My Instant Death Doomed Firefly to a Lifetime of Regret

[Age 15]

Your mastery of the Molten Knight earned Caesar's approval. Imperial resources flooded your way—power, wealth, influence. None swayed your heart.

You trained obsessively at the Mountains, honing skills that lacked only battlefield baptism.

Liuying fought tooth and nail against your deployment. Arguments erupted, always ending when her tear-streaked face shattered your resolve.

You promised to wait until graduation. She knew it was inevitable. As your mentor, she drilled every survival tactic into you—anything to keep you alive.

"You've grown taller."

Liuying tiptoed to tap An Ming's crown, pouting. "Fifteen and already my height… How unfair."

An Ming set a coffee cup before her, smiling. "Taller means you'll spot me anywhere."

"True~"

She dragged her chair closer. "You saw it too, right? The Dead Sea doubled."

The unspoken truth hung heavy: the Swarm War escalated. The Empire's lies neared collapse.

An Ming recalled B31—replaced by B97 after a mission. Cold numbers masking extinguished lives. Once, he'd asked B31: "Would you choose to be ordinary?"

The reply still haunted: "Better never born. We're ash for the Empire's dawn."

Ash… and dawn.

He stirred two sugar cubes into Liuying's coffee. "War's unavoidable."

"These years… felt like a dream. No battles. No Swarm."

Liuying treasured this borrowed peace. But in Gramr, happiness was always fleeting.

Moonlight bathed the dorm. Fireflies flickered outside.

Post-coffee, they retreated to separate rooms. Liuying tossed restlessly. Why no sleep tonight?

Barefoot, she crept to An Ming's door.

Moonbeams revealed him sprawled inelegantly across sheets.

"So serious awake, such a child asleep."

She crouched, poking his cheek. A yawn betrayed her. Drawn by his warmth, she curled beside him.

Dawn broke with a shriek.

An Ming lunged for his sword, only to freeze—Liuying clung to him, tearful and trembling.

"Y-you… down there… it's…!"

Oh.

His face burned. "N-normal physiology! Nothing… unusual."

"R-really?"

She peeked again, cheeks blooming. Though clueless, instinct whispered this was… intimate.

They never spoke of it.

But Liuying began "accidentally" sneaking into his bed nightly. An Ming's octopus-like cuddling—face buried in her chest, limbs entangled—became routine.

One night, he mumbled "Mom" in his sleep.

Liuying held him close. "We only have each other now."

Could this last forever?

Watching his peaceful face, the words slipped out:

"An Ming… I really like you."

…Huh?

Her own confession stunned her. Like—cake-like? Or…

She leaned closer, confused yet compelled.