* * *
It wasn’t just about what you could see with your eyes anymore.
It was more like… the atmosphere between them?
Hard to put into words, but it definitely wasn’t ‘awkward’ or ‘cold.’
Of course, Haimar Eilec was still a jerk.
But the sharp edge that used to constantly surround him seemed to have dulled, and that alone was shocking enough to make her want to shout.
As for Ben—who had once looked like he was about to be mind-controlled and devoured—he now actually seemed to stand on equal ground with Haimar.
Hard to believe, but it was starting to look real.
“…Well, if that’s the case, I guess I’ll welcome it with open arms. Hm?”
Murmuring absentmindedly as she sucked on the last of her Americano, Liran suddenly made eye contact with Haimar, who was sitting nearby.
“Urk.”
She’d messed up.
Her gaze had only lingered for a second, but her whole body tensed with unease.
She couldn’t imagine he hadn’t just read what she was thinking.
Liran gripped the cup in her hand hard enough to crumple it, pressing her lips together as she tried to gauge the mood.
She didn’t think her thoughts had crossed a serious line—but with that man, you never knew.
Her body instinctively went rigid.
“……”
Fortunately, it seemed neither Ben nor Moria heard her silent scream.
The conversation continued as naturally as ever.
Even the man who had definitely read her mind didn’t look at her again.
As if—thankfully—he’d decided to let it slide.
This must be what people mean when they say something “shaved ten years off their life.”
Liran swallowed hard and refocused on their conversation.
“Did you have a good meeting with the Director?”
“He was rambling about nonsense.”
Hmm…?
Haima’s tone was as flat as always, but Ben picked up on a faint—barely 0.01%—note of displeasure in it.
The fact that he could detect it, even in Haimar’s expertly neutral voice, made Ben feel oddly proud.
He was just about to press a little more, but before he could even try, Haimar shut him down.
“It’s nothing you’d find interesting.”
“Ah—okay.”
Ben’s lips, which had been on the verge of moving again, clamped shut like a clam.
Wait, shouldn’t I be the one to decide whether it’s interesting or not?
The way Haimar cut off the topic so cleanly left no room for follow-up.
Still, given what had happened yesterday, Ben was curious about the meeting with the Director.
But were they close enough for him to dig deeper?
It was hard to say.
They were an Esper and a Guide, sure—but even so, it didn’t feel like they’d had a real guiding session yet.
On the other hand, it wasn’t like nothing had happened between them either.
Ben felt like they’d gotten closer, but the distance between them was still very much there.
It left him with this… weird, disappointed feeling.
…Disappointed?
Why was he disappointed?
Maybe Haimar just didn’t want to talk about it.
Maybe it was classified.
Frowning slightly, Ben knitted his brows.
Haimar Eilec had always drawn clear lines between himself and others—but for some reason, he’d crossed that line with Ben.
And now this vague, uneasy feeling started out like a flickering candle and quickly turned into a full-blown wave of discomfort.
“Your eyes.”
“…Huh?”
Lost in thought, Ben suddenly felt his face being turned toward Haimar by the man’s hand.
“Look at me properly.”
Not that you’ll find anything just by staring into my eyes, Ben thought—but he obeyed.
Without even realizing it, the furrow between his brows had smoothed out, and now he was simply staring blankly into Haimar’s face.
Honestly, the silence was getting a little embarrassing, and he tried to avert his gaze.
But every time, Haimar’s hand guided his face like a toy, gently forcing his eyes back up to meet his.
Ben knew he couldn’t win this kind of contest of wills—not physically.
And just as he was about to snap in frustration, Haimar released him, and Ben silently returned to sipping his fruit juice.
Somehow, it tasted just a little more bitter than before—but he figured that was probably just his mood.
“Excuse me! Totally random, but—Moria Iren has a question!”
As their trivial back-and-forth resumed, Moria suddenly shot her hand up like a straight-A student asking for permission.
She waited just long enough to catch their attention before beaming at them.
“Out of curiosity—Haimar, what do you call Ben?”
At the unexpected question, Haimar propped his chin on his hand and stared at her.
But there was nothing but genuine curiosity in Moria’s eyes, and so, Haimar responded with his usual gentle smile.
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because even now, I’ve never heard Mr. Haimar call Mr. Ben by name! I mean, I call him Mr. Ben too!”
Even as she spoke, her raised hand showed no intention of coming down.
At her words, Ben realized something—Haimar had never called him by his name either.
While Ben called him “Mr. Haimar,” which made sense, Haimar usually referred to him as—
“Ben Plaskun, or just ‘you,’ or maybe ‘that person’… Yes, I suppose I do that sometimes.”
“How could you be so dry and emotionless?!”
Ben was just answering honestly, but Moria let out a dramatic sigh, yanking at the twin tails of her hair like the sky had split in two.
But really, did it warrant this level of disappointment from her, just because of how Haimar addressed him?
“Seriously! Just like how I call Liran ‘Liri,’ a relationship starts with using names! What is this ‘you’ and ‘that person’ nonsense?!”
Any trace of the shy student from earlier was gone—Moria slammed the desk, stood up, and marched to the podium like a fired-up lecturer ready to give a passionate class.
Even Liran Siu, who hadn’t intervened until now, tugged gently on Moria’s white lab coat, finally sensing danger.
“Momo, this kind of meddling might be too much…”
“No! Not at all! I listened to so many special lectures about this!”
Of course. It’s always those damn special lectures.
Ben realized where all this heat and fervor about names was coming from.
“You two have known each other for how long now? It’s about time you called him by name! Mr. Haimar, you can do it, can’t you? At the very least, ditch the ‘you’ and ‘that person’ already!”
“Momo—!”
He really wished she’d stop right there, but Moria’s blazing eyes showed no hint of fear.
There was no doubt in Ben’s mind—“you” and “that person” had ignited a fire in her.
Her determined gaze pinned directly at Haimar, and for the first time, Liran Siu looked visibly uncomfortable—more so than Ben had ever seen.
She’s flustered too. Maybe I should be the one to put a stop to this.
“It’s not the first time, it’s fine. It’s really nothing.”
Trying to brush it off with a shrug, Ben figured it wasn’t wise to rile up Haimar over such trivial matters.
He turned toward him for agreement, but—
“Isn’t that right, Haimar… sir?”
Wait.
What’s with that face?
Ben turned his head—and was met with an expression he hadn’t expected.
He was sure Haimar would brush Moria off with a “what’s that dog barking at now?” attitude.
But in his eyes was a flicker of amused intrigue.
Like a devil hiding behind an innocent face, his smirk curled, and he rested his chin in his hand—mischievous and dangerous.
And Ben had a terrible feeling.
Nothing good ever came out of Haimar when he looked like that.
“Mr. Ben, what are you saying? This isn’t nothing! It matters! Why can’t you say it?!”
“It’s fine. It’s not like I can’t.”
“Exactly! See, nothing hard abou—Wait, what?! Really?!”
Moria, taken aback by Haimar’s unexpected agreement, stopped mid-outburst and stared with wide eyes.
“It’s not hard at all. Isn’t that right, Ben?”
That last word—Ben—sounded painfully awkward.
Moria and Riran were both stunned, unable to look away from Haimar’s face, now right next to Ben’s ear.
‘Ben.’
The name echoed—
The way it rolled off Haimar’s tongue, the feel of his upper and lower lips brushing together, the crisp sound of it…
It clung to his palate.
It left a lingering taste—sweet, addicting.
As if once wasn’t enough, Haimar repeated the name like he was hooked.
“Ben. Hmm?”
* * *
