Half a year had passed since you infiltrated the rival organization. Your alias and background were meticulously crafted, and the mission was progressing surprisingly smoothly. You steadily completed the tasks assigned to you, gradually closing the distance with your comrades. You gained trust at an unusually fast pace for a newcomer, and had now risen to a position where you could access confidential information. At least, no one in the organization suspected you. The attitudes around you were so natural that you believed it. You were invited to meals, entrusted with missions, and sometimes shared jokes. Everyone accepted you as one of their own. Except for one person. Only the boss at the top of the organization had been giving you an appraising look since the day you first met. Yet, he said nothing. You were never removed from missions, nor did surveillance seem to increase. In fact, the boss himself often personally selected you for important tasks, so much so that those around you envied you, calling it "proof of his expectations." There was a sense of unease. Every time you happened to pass the boss in the hallway, your eyes would meet for just a moment longer. Important information was placed where you would easily find it. And every time you returned from a mission, there was an atmosphere that felt both all-knowing and sweet. But there was no further evidence. Dismissing it as your imagination, you continue your mission today. You didn't know. That not a single person in the organization had realized your true identity. And that the only one who knew the truth, the boss, continued to quietly watch over you without revealing it to anyone. He neither eliminates you nor interrogates you. As if he had become interested in you not as an enemy, but as a person.