* * *
“What Elgran is worried about isn’t really Integra itself. Strictly speaking, it’s between Integra and us…”
“Who said I was worried?”
At least it wasn’t Integra dragging their feet—that was a relief.
Then what was the issue?
“Is there some sudden reason it can’t happen?”
“Well, not exactly…”
“Why don’t you just say it outright?”
As Enten’s words trailed off, Haimar pushed back his platinum hair with a sigh and raised an eyebrow in boredom.
Unfortunately for Ben, unlike Haimar, he couldn’t read thoughts, so he had to wait for Enten to explain.
“I hate to say it like this, but… bluntly, we’re all scared of getting caught in the crossfire. You know how it is. I’m not looking to be the shrimp crushed between fighting whales.”
“Ugh. A bunch of cowards. It’s so obvious no one wants to take responsibility—it’s pathetic.”
Ah. Now it made sense.
In short, they were all busy debating who would take the fall if something went wrong with Haimar.
Since it was unprecedented to remove a control device like his, no one wanted to bear the risk.
Normally, the responsibility would fall on Integra, the guide, and Haimar himself—but if anything went wrong, the damage would be felt by Eternita.
Considering who they were dealing with, it was understandable that they wanted to avoid risk.
Still, to get this tangled up over one person—Ben was starting to feel fed up.
Was he really so terrifying they had to tremble like this?
Ben glanced at Haimar, who looked entirely unbothered, like it wasn’t his problem.
Or maybe he was just sick of seeing this same scene play out over and over again.
In any case, Ben figured that instead of worrying endlessly about problems that hadn’t even happened yet, it would be better for everyone to just solve it quickly.
Maybe in the past, he’d have agreed with them.
But now, Haimar didn’t seem particularly dangerous—or scary.
“Anyway, I get it. If something happens, we’ll deal with it somehow.”
Screw the rules and red tape.
Ben was about to mutter more with a grumble when his hand brushed Haimar’s control device—and he stopped.
Perhaps sensing it, Haimar simply responded by lounging deeper into the couch like a sun-drenched feline, lips curling slightly.
Clueless to Ben’s thoughts, Enten relaxed, relieved that the conversation had wrapped without issue, and changed the topic.
“Well, I feel kinda bad. Let’s drop the subject. What are you doing for lunch? I’ve got a packed meal from the wife.”
Trying to bury the topic he’d rather not revisit, Enten tapped the empty teapot with his finger, hinting that it was nearly lunchtime.
Elgran, sprawled out like a cat, perked up at the word “lunch,” stretching with feline flair.
“I didn’t want to eat here, so I asked Lus. I was craving panini and croque-monsieur. I got yours too, Haimar. And Ben’s. He should be about done and on his way to pick them up now.”
“Ours too?”
“Duh. We were going to order just for us, but Haimar told him to include yours too—what was I supposed to do!”
Elgran’s cheeks puffed with a sulky pout he couldn’t quite hide.
Ben didn’t care what they had for lunch, but it was true—going down to the cafeteria with this crew would definitely draw some attention.
As he nodded in reluctant agreement, Haimar added:
“The cafeteria’s serving stir-fried asparagus today. You hate that.”
“What? You hate asparagus?”
“I never said that.”
He didn’t like it, sure—but he hadn’t gone as far as to say he hated it.
Everyone has a few foods they’re not fond of, but it’s embarrassing to complain like a picky kid.
It was just that once, by accident, he’d gotten a dish with asparagus tempura and barely touched it after a few bites.
He thought he’d covered it well—but Haimar had apparently noticed and remembered.
“But how’d you even know the menu…? Ah, right. You must’ve heard without leaving. Silly question.”
“Anyway, we’re not going to the cafeteria. Since we’re buying lunch, it might be too heavy for Lus to carry alone. Could you go meet him and help bring it back?”
“Hmm, sure.”
If it had sounded like an order, Haimar would’ve shut it down cold—but Elgran knew how to handle him, using a playful tone to frame it as a favor.
Ben didn’t have a reason to refuse, so he set down his teacup and stood.
If Elgran were told to go, he’d definitely whine about the cold—and since they were the ones eating, it felt wrong to make Lus haul everything back alone.
Besides, the shop Elgran mentioned was only about a fifteen-minute round trip.
Ben assured them he’d be back soon and stepped out.
But as always, people’s expectations are just that—expectations.
Reality doesn’t always follow suit.
Just like running into Lus in the lobby.
CRASH—!!
A sturdy mug shattered against the pale marble, fragments scattering everywhere.
The brown liquid it held raced across the floor like a burst dam, white shards dancing in its wake.
Seeing the soaked, startled Lus, Ben raised an eyebrow.
“You all right?”
“Ha… I just wanted a cup of coffee. Seems I’ve made a mess instead.”
Lus must’ve seen Ben too, because he looked troubled and began picking up pieces of the shattered mug from the floor.
Ben quickly knelt down to help him, gathering the shards into a pile and using tissues handed over by the onlookers to roughly mop up the spilled coffee.
“Sorry about this. What brings you here, Ben?”
“I heard Mr. Elgran was planning to leave for the shop, so I came to lend a hand.”
“I see. Let me finish this, then I’ll head out with you.”
“No, please let me handle it. You should do something about your clothes.”
As he bundled up the soggy, brown-stained tissues, Ben gestured toward Lus’s outfit.
From the top of his shirt to the hem of his pants, a vivid trail of coffee marked his clothing.
It wasn’t as if he could remove the stains completely right now, but it seemed better to at least tidy up a bit than to go out looking like that.
“Well, this is…”
Lus looked down at himself and, with a twist of his lips, didn’t argue back.
When someone’s hesitating like this, a little push is best.
Sensing Lus might keep wavering, Ben decided to drag poor Elgran into the conversation.
“If you go out with me looking like that, Mr. Elgran might give me an earful.”
“Oh, come on. If that happened, Haimar wouldn’t let it slide either.”
“Now that’s a joke. But still, I doubt Mr. Elgran would be pleased to see me.”
“Well… I agree. Ahem. Sorry, but I’ll leave it to you.”
In the end, it only meant one person carrying what two people would’ve shared.
Still, if that small sacrifice meant avoiding Elgran’s sharp-tongued nagging, it was a fair trade.
After quickly finishing up the cleanup, Ben watched Lus disappear down the hallway and then headed out of the building.
But, to reiterate—
Expectations are only average predictions based on typical situations.
No one had foreseen that, instead of simply picking up warm paninis and croque-monsieurs from the sandwich shop, Ben Plaskun would end up meeting a strange woman radiating a very odd atmosphere.
∗ ∗ ∗
Irina Sheril had her heart broken.
Whether the end of a one-sided crush could really be called heartbreak was up for debate—but for her, that’s exactly what it was.
The end of a long, unrequited love.
A deeply personal tragedy.
She cried for days.
Tears came when she opened her eyes in the morning, and while eating meals.
After calling in sick for vague reasons and spending several days at home, she finally returned to work—only then did she start to think about the cause of her heartbreak.
Irina Sheril was an Esper.
More specifically, a C+ grade telepath-type Esper affiliated with the Neadegu Central Branch.
She once had a Guide who was deemed a match for her by the compatibility analyzer.
She would never forget the moment she first met him.
It was awkward at first, but the man who became her Guide had approached her with kindness and warmth.
Every time their fingers brushed, a thrilling jolt warmed her chest, and she found herself falling deeper for the compassion and gentleness ingrained in his every move.
If she gathered and pieced together the emotions she felt then, it was undoubtedly love—real, honest love.
Guiding with him was pure bliss, and each day felt like a dream.
She truly believed it would last forever.
She loved him passionately and had no doubt he loved her too.
She thought they understood each other without words.
She believed as long as she loved him, the compatibility results would never fail, and indeed, they always came back as “compatible.”
She was convinced they’d eventually understand each other’s feelings and imprint.
To Irina Sheril, who was hopelessly in love, that was an immutable truth.
* * *
