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[Zenless Zone Zero] Undercover: Soldier 11

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There is a threat to the proxies. One that Obol Squad decides to send in an agent undercover to assist and protect the siblings.

So naturally they let Soldier 11 do it.

But it doesn't turn out all that bad...

Soldier 11/Wise, Suggestive Themes, Romantic Comedy, One-Shot.
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AndrewJTalon

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- - -

The mission briefing had been terse, even by Obol Squad standards.

"Potential threat to Proxies Phaethon. Intelligence suggests surveillance on Random Play. Require deep-cover asset. Objective: observe and neutralize any hostile intent."

Soldier 11—real name Harin Onslaught—had volunteered immediately. No one asked why, though Trigger had a smug look on her face.

Two days later, a woman in a modest floral dress, apron tied neatly, hair pinned back with military precision, appeared at the door of Random Play carrying a single duffel.

"I am your wife," she announced to Wise, voice flat and formal. "We have been married for six months. I will maintain cover."

Belle, mid-sip of soda, did a spit-take. Wise just sighed and let her in.

Thus began Operation Housewife.

Soldier 11 approached domestic life like a tactical exercise.

Cleaning was flawless: shelves dusted in perfect parallel lines, floors mopped with geometric efficiency, every VHS tape aligned to within a millimeter. Belle walked in once to find her on hands and knees scrubbing baseboards with a toothbrush.

Cooking, however, was a war crime.

Anything that wasn't instant spicy noodles ended in flames. Literally. The smoke alarm became a regular soundtrack. Her "housewife" dinners consisted of one thing: extra-hot military-grade chili ramen, served at exactly 1900 hours with a salute.

She greeted customers with "Welcome to Random Play. State your business." Wise had to gently steer her toward "How can I help you find a movie today?"

But the military bearing never left: back ramrod straight, eyes scanning for threats, responding to "Harin, dear, could you pass the salt?" with "Yes, ma'am!" before catching herself.

Wise and Belle played along. Belle mostly because it was hilarious. Wise because… well, Soldier 11 in an apron was surprisingly endearing.

Then came the night everything escalated.

- - -

Wise was in the bedroom, changing for bed, when the door opened without a knock.

Soldier 11 stepped in wearing a sheer red nightie that was clearly bought from the "seductive civilian disguise" section of whatever catalog Section 6 used for undercover ops. It fit perfectly. Too perfectly.

She stood at attention, cheeks faintly pink.

"Husband," she declared, "it is time for us to engage in sexual relations. As your wife, I must see to this duty."

Then she held up a small whiteboard that read, in neat block letters: WE ARE BEING OBSERVED.

Wise's brain short-circuited for three full seconds.

He closed the door, turned off the overhead light, and flicked on the bedside lamp. Then he grabbed a notepad and wrote: How long?

She wrote back: Three days. Unknown listener. Possibly hostile.

He exhaled slowly. Okay. Serious.

But also… Soldier 11—Harin—was standing in his bedroom in lingerie, stiff as a recruit on inspection, clearly nervous underneath the discipline.

She spoke again, voice softer. "I… have never engaged in coitus. I do not know proper civilian procedure."

Wise rubbed his face, half laughing, half aching with fondness.

He wrote: We don't have to do anything you don't want.

She shook her head firmly. "Negative. Mission parameters require convincing cover. Also…" She hesitated, then wrote: I volunteered because I wished to be close to you. Orders would… assist.

Wise stared at the note. Then at her—beautiful, deadly, awkward, earnest Harin.

He sighed, smiled, and gave in.

"Alright, soldier," he said quietly. "First order: come here."

She obeyed instantly, stepping into his arms.

He kissed her—slow, careful, letting her adjust. She followed his lead with the same focus she applied to everything: precise, intense, learning fast.

Later, when clothes were gone and they were tangled in sheets, he suggested they "research" together. He pulled up a few carefully chosen films on the laptop—gentle, romantic ones about married couples, nothing aggressive.

Harin took notes.

Actual notes.

Pen and paper. Timestamped observations like "Subject A initiates affection at 12:47. Subject B responds with neck kiss—effective."

Wise couldn't decide whether to laugh or combust.

Eventually, the laptop was closed.

She looked at him, eyes wide, breathing quick.

"Requesting further orders, sir."

So he gave them—softly, affectionately, always checking in.

"Kiss me here."

"Touch me like this."

"Let me take care of you."

She followed every instruction with dedication that bordered on reverence, body responding eagerly even as her mind catalogued every sensation.

By the end, notes were forgotten. There were only gasps, quiet moans, and the slow, perfect synchronization of two people who trusted each other completely.

- - -

Morning came too soon.

Wise woke sore in places he didn't know could be sore, muscles aching, but smiling like an idiot.

From the kitchen drifted the smell of… not burning, for once. And singing.

Off-key, enthusiastic singing of a current pop song about love and fireworks.

He limped downstairs to find Soldier 11 in the apron again, happily stirring a pot of—miracle of miracles—edible scrambled eggs and not-just-noodles.

Belle was already at the table, grinning like a cat.

"Morning, big brother. You look… thoroughly debriefed."

Wise flipped her off behind Soldier 11's back.

The door chimed.

Trigger entered, boots thudding, expression somewhere between amused and apologetic.

"Mission update," she announced. "The 'spy' was a teenage fan of yours truly. Got overexcited, planted a cheap listening device. I… extracted her last night. She won't be a problem."

Soldier 11 froze, spatula in hand, face going crimson.

Trigger smirked. "Nice performance, by the way. Very… convincing."

Harin made a small, mortified sound and hid her face in the apron.

Belle clapped her hands. "Well! Since the mission's over and you're already moved in… you're free to stay as long as you like, Harin~"

Wise, still sore, still smiling, reached over and took Soldier 11's hand.

"She's staying," he said simply.

Harin peeked out from behind the apron, eyes soft.

"Affirmative," she whispered.

And then, quietly—so only he could hear—she added, "Husband."

Belle pretended to gag. Trigger just shook her head and left with a little smile.
 

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