Introduction to Guide Studies chapter 40

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“Are you by any chance Integra? I heard there’s an Esper whose ability is transformation.”

“Wh-what…! H-how did you know…! A-are you working with the woman who did this to me…?!”

A look of despair lit up on the exhausted man’s face.

“No, I’m not. I’m Ben Plaskun, from Central Division 8. This is my ID. May I ask why you’re here like this?”

As the man’s face turned pale, Ben hurriedly pulled out his ID from his wallet and showed it.

The reasonable proof seemed to put the man slightly at ease, but his face still looked anxious as he replied.

“I-I’m Xenon Pinaca… A-after collapsing at the train station, I haven’t been able to control my powers… a-and I lost my ID and phone… I-it’s hard to even ask for help like this….”

To be fair, like he said, it would be tough to talk to a normal person when your face is constantly morphing.

Add to that his visibly poor condition and shy, hesitant tone—it all made it hard to ask anyone for help.

The fact that Xenon ended up encountering Ben in this state was nearly a miracle.

“In that case, I’ll contact Central first. Things will get better once we get you there.”

“I-it’s not that I don’t want to go to Central…!”

“Sorry?”

“I-I can’t go…”

Xenon interrupted Ben just as he was pulling out his phone, his voice tight and desperate.

He flailed his hands frantically, unable to bring himself to touch Ben.

When Ben paused, finger still on the number pad, Xenon gagged a few times before continuing.

“S-someone’s… interfering. I-it’s possible they’ve already noticed this too.”

“Who… exactly?”

“I-I don’t know for sure… b-but it must be connected to whoever put me in this situation. Every time I try to do something, they get in the way. I-I can’t do anything right now… My ability isn’t physical or anything… I just have enhanced senses and transformation—and even that’s out of control now. So I can’t escape either….”

“But you still need help.”

“Y-yes, but… i-if you end up in danger because of me… I wouldn’t be able to protect you. I c-can’t guarantee you’ll get to Central safely…”

His nausea seemed to have eased a little, but his face was still smeared with insecurity.

Yet behind that, there was a faint glimmer of hope—he was asking for help.

Like it or not, Ben was the only lifeline Xenon had left.

Ben also knew that, even if he wasn’t the most reliable lifeline, walking away now wasn’t an option.

Doing nothing would only make things worse—for Xenon, who wasn’t just anyone but someone connected to Integra, and who could very well spiral into an even more dire state.

Besides, it wasn’t just about logic.

As a human being, Ben Plaskun simply wasn’t the type to abandon someone like this.

“Leaving an Esper who might be on the verge of going out of control is completely unacceptable. I have a car nearby—let’s go.”

“B-but…! W-wait, you shouldn’t touch me…!!”

Without hesitation, Ben lifted Xenon up and guided him toward the car.

Startled by the sudden movement, Xenon didn’t even have time to complain about how stiff his body had become from crouching so long.

Before he knew it, he was in the passenger seat.

“U-uwueeegh—S-sorry, uwueegh!”

Ben had just turned the key when Xenon doubled over and threw up on his own knees, as if something inside him was burning.

It was humiliating—throwing up in front of someone he’d just met—but his body wasn’t cooperating. His stomach churned, and his morphing face wouldn’t stop twitching.

“It’s okay. I’ll wait until you feel better.”

“Th-thank… uwuegh—Why… why is this happening…”

The gentle hand patting his back was an unexpectedly warm comfort.

He’s… basically a saint, Xenon thought, eyes brimming with tears as he waited for the nausea to subside.

He had no idea a bigger disaster was right around the corner.

“…I-I think I’m okay now…”

“Alright, then let’s—huh?”

Ben had just released the parking brake and was about to start driving when he glanced over at Xenon—and froze.

“…W-what is it?”

Well, the thing was—

When the person sitting next to you looks exactly like you, like a mirror image or a doppelgänger, freezing up was a pretty natural reaction.

“Y-your face…”

Just moments ago, the man’s appearance had been shifting constantly—hair color, facial structure, everything.

But now it had settled.

Into a single, very specific shape.

That of Ben Plaskun.

“Huh? What…?”

When Ben pointed awkwardly at his face, Xenon raised a trembling hand to his own, and then looked into the side mirror.

The moment he saw it—

“AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!”

“Why are you the one screaming?! It’s your ability!”

Who’s the one who should be freaking out here?!

Xenon trembled, his fingers brushing over his—Ben’s—face, as if he couldn’t believe it.

His reaction wasn’t just shock—it was full-on panic.

“I-I thought this might happen… T-that’s why I told you not to touch me earlier… I-I can only transform if there’s physical contact… b-but this… this is too much….”

Regardless of Xenon’s intentions, for Ben, seeing someone with his exact face looking all flustered and frazzled was…

Honestly, really weird.

Those expressions—slouching, whimpering, panicking—were things Ben could never make in a mirror even if he tried.

They were 100% Xenon expressions, pasted onto Ben’s face.

“I-I’m so sorry…! Y-you must be so creeped out… I-I’ll try to change back right away…”

Seeing Ben’s unreadable expression, Xenon panicked further, ducking his head and touching his face quickly.

Truthfully, Ben wasn’t creeped out.

It was just… surreal. I

t’s not every day you stare into your own doppelgänger’s eyes, especially when he’s making faces you’d never make yourself.

And more than anything—it wasn’t Xenon’s fault.

“It’s not that I’m creeped out. I was just surprised.”

“O-oh… O-okay, I’ll try to change back anyway…”

Ben’s reassurance seemed to give Xenon a bit of confidence back.

But after fiddling with his face in the mirror for a while, his voice came out again, sounding even more defeated.

“I-it’s not changing back…”

He was moving his hands around, trying different things, but it was clear nothing was working.

Xenon, still wearing Ben’s face, now looked like he was trying to contort every facial muscle he had into the most miserable expression possible.

‘Nope. Don’t make that face. That is… fantastically unflattering.’

Even the world’s bitterest medicine couldn’t make someone look that pained.

“S-sorry. Huhuhuuu… My powers aren’t listening to me… What’s wrong with me… huuuhuu…”

“It’s okay, don’t cry. Honestly, my face isn’t all that handsome to begin with, so… it’s a little hard to look at right now anyway.”

If it were Haimar Eilec, even with that expression, he’d probably still shine—but that clearly didn’t apply to him.

Ugh.

‘I might not be able to keep watching this much longer.’

But then Xenon, eyes welling up with tears like chicken droppings, said something that only made Ben’s awkwardness worse.

“Huuuh? Why… why not? I thought… you looked pretty handsome… or… not…?”

His soft hair brushed lightly across his eyes, the irises a faint green.

His skin was clean and pale, his eyes gently slanted downward in a way that gave him a kind and attractive look. Xenon couldn’t understand why someone would say otherwise.

He wasn’t short either, and although he was on the slim side, his body had a balanced build, with the right muscles in all the right places.

Compared to his own delicate appearance—like he might blow away in the wind—Ben looked clear and upright.

“…Not at all.”

“Ah… no way… I-I really think… you look fine… Others would definitely think so too… I-I mean it…”

Of course, perspectives vary.

But from Ben’s point of view, he had an average face—nothing special, the kind you could see anywhere.

The only problem was that this was something only he seemed to believe, contrary to what others thought.

In any case, Xenon surprisingly didn’t back down from his opinion, so Ben decided to take a step back.

If this conversation went on any longer, he’d just feel more embarrassed.

At least the voice was still Xenon’s own—so long as he avoided looking directly at him, the awkwardness was manageable.

“At least your voice is still the same. That’s a relief.”

“M-my voice… needs… some practice… It’s harder than controlling muscles… and I don’t have a… g-guide…”

If even the voice had been identical, it might’ve felt like staring at a suddenly spawned twin—and that would’ve been much more unsettling.

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