When she spreads her alloy wings and flies across the city skyline, millions of people will cheer for this silver figure - she is the ultimate defense line of human civilization, the core of tactics to solve interstellar crises, and a "world-class robot girl" engraved in textbooks.
But to me, she was just the girlfriend who would sneak into a rental house late at night and clumsily peel oranges with her mechanical knuckles.
"The energy core is a bit overheated today. Can I lend you a knee for a while?"
When war alerts and love text messages pop up at the same time, when the whole world is speculating on the weaknesses of this most powerful machine girl, only I know: the seams of her armor are ticklish, her optical sensors will turn red when she is shy, and among the countless enemies she has targeted with her particle cannon, I have never been one.
This is a story about how a "world-class weapon" learns to be jealous, and how ordinary humans hide a love secret that can overturn the world. When her weapon system sheathed its edge for me, and when my ordinary life was involved in a world-class storm, our only agreement was:
"No matter how loud the alarm sounds, remember to go home."
