* * *
“What if they hang up? Just answer already.”
“R-right. H-hello? Lus? What’s going on?”
As Elgran answered in a tense voice, Ben turned around on purpose to give him some privacy.
Hovering too close would obviously be distracting—and earn him a complaint.
But even from a distance, the tone of Elgran’s responses gave away the mood.
“No, it’s not that… Really? Yeah! I’m coming! Of course! I’ll be quick!”
The nervous tension disappeared. A bright, cheerful energy fluttered in from behind.
“No, it’s fine! I can make it! Of course. Just wait for me!”
From how the conversation was going, Elgran looked like he might sprint out of the line at any moment.
When Ben turned around, all traces of anxiety were gone from his friend’s face.
He was flushed, glowing with excitement.
“I’m out!”
“That sudden?”
“Lus said I can finally do the thing I’ve been wanting to! It’s a sign—we’re making up! This is no time to be standing in line.”
Ben had half-expected this, but he still asked quickly as Elgran ended the call and bolted out of the line.
“What about the cake?”
“Buy mine too! Medium-sized strawberry shortcake! I’m eating it with Lus!”
Managing to reconcile and get cake out of it—talk about efficiency.
But to be fair, for Elgran, this was probably his big green light moment. He wasn’t going to miss it.
“Take the car keys with you!”
“It’s fine. If I take the car, how are you getting home? I’ll get there faster without it.”
Fair point. Ben gave up on insisting and quietly slipped the keys back into his pocket.
Elgran could probably teleport to Central City with those freakish powers of his, but Ben, an average guy, would be stuck with the bus or subway—and take twice as long.
“Later! Byeee!”
With no care left for anything else, Elgran vanished, leaving Ben completely abandoned.
He could feel the sympathetic stares from nearby couples in line.
It was awkward.
Embarrassing, even.
Ben pretended not to notice and focused on fiddling with his phone instead.
Not that he was expecting any messages.
Elgran might’ve been right—Haimar probably wasn’t the type to constantly check his phone.
Still, it made Ben nervous, even if he tried not to admit it.
Bzzz—
Whoa!
The sudden vibration startled Ben like he’d been caught red-handed. He scrambled to check his phone.
[BTW, the fried streusel bread is famous too!11]
…Never mind.
It was from Elgran. Hastily typed, full of typos.
Even without asking, it was obvious he meant for Ben to pick it up as well.
After sending a reply to Elgran, Ben suddenly recalled the wave of pure emotion Elgran held for his guide.
An almost colorless, pure emotion that didn’t calculate or weigh anything.
Ben had always envied that kind of honesty—being able to express what he felt exactly as he felt it, without hesitation.
In contrast, Ben was only ever used to hiding.
He’d lived a life far more comfortable drawing lines between himself and others, keeping a consistent distance rather than growing close.
Even now was no different. Espers and guides were supposed to cross those boundaries, but ever since that moment, he’d been keeping a subtle distance from Haimar.
There’s no way Haimar didn’t notice.
Ben knew—he’d noticed, just like he always did, that his behavior was upsetting him.
The cause was obvious: it was Ben himself.
So he had no right to complain.
He was the one avoiding it. It was his own fault.
Would there ever be a day he could be as open and honest as Elgran?
If he were even half as bold and carefree as Elgran, who seemed to live without a single worry in the world, this might have ended as just a silly little hiccup.
Without even realizing it, Ben let out a sigh.
He knew the what ifs were pointless.
From the very beginning, he and Elgran had started from different places.
If someone asked whether he hated what happened back at Hermannsen, he’d say no.
If he had, he’d have kicked and screamed like his life depended on it.
He wouldn’t be here like this.
It’s just, to be really honest—
…It’s embarrassing.
“Sigh…”
Even though he acted like nothing was wrong, the truth was, it was all because he was embarrassed.
No, seriously! Every time he sees that guy’s face, it just pops into his head!
What’s he supposed to do!?
Sure, he gets that the guy’s annoyed, but Ben absolutely cannot say, “Oh, uh, yeah, sorry, I just can’t face you because I’m too embarrassed about that incident.”
Not even if he were dying.
A grown man saying something that cringey? No way.
Jesus. Oh my God. He’d rather die.
“Excuse me, are you ready to order?”
Ben’s daydream shattered as he realized the line had shortened and it was his turn.
“Ah, yes! Then—”
In the display case below the clerk, a sweet bakery scent surrounded the rows of cakes, each boasting their own charms.
Castella sponge cakes with fruit layered between pillowy sections, whipped cream-filled rolls ready to burst, warm muffins fresh from the oven—this was a bread lover’s paradise.
Ben took a moment to admire the baked goods, then pulled up the mental list he’d made earlier and began reciting it to the clerk: two matcha roll cakes, one medium-sized strawberry cream cake, two streusel buns, and two slices of shortcake.
A pretty big order for just one person, so the clerk’s hands grew increasingly busy with the packaging.
“All right, I’ll ring you up.”
After paying with his card and collecting his bags, both of Ben’s hands were full of bakery goodies.
He headed back to where he’d parked to return to Central, managing to open the car door with some effort and carefully place the cake boxes and bread bags on the back seat so they wouldn’t tip over.
Among the jam-packed cars in the city center, Central’s official vehicles were especially outdated.
They were always the same make and model.
As he opened the driver’s side door, he briefly recalled the last one he’d smashed up.
But this time, he figured, nothing like that would happen.
Except—just before getting in, he spotted a white scratch near the gas cap.
Probably someone had scraped it while parking.
It wasn’t even his own car, but he’d only just made up his mind to treat it properly, so the sight annoyed him.
He scowled and leaned in for a closer look.
It wasn’t a huge scratch, but since this was one of the older Central cars with no dashcam, whoever did it probably just drove off.
The car next to it was gone too.
Ben looked around for any security cameras—nothing. Not even a streetlamp.
Giving up on finding the culprit, he turned back toward the driver’s seat—
He wouldn’t have noticed if it weren’t for the narrow alley tucked between two buildings.
Despite it being midday, the alley was so narrow that sunlight didn’t reach inside—just wide enough for a single person to squeeze through.
The kind of alley you see all the time.
Nothing unusual.
Except there was something unusual.
Something shifting and sluggish deep inside.
Ben would’ve missed it if he hadn’t gone around the car to check the scratch.
A large mass was slumped flat on the ground, subtly squirming.
From a distance, it might’ve looked like someone had dumped a giant trash bag, but something about it felt… human.
Ben cautiously approached.
The hidden alley was thick with trash and a rank smell.
Stepping over litter like empty drink bottles, he finally got close enough to see that his guess had been right.
A person was on the ground, head pressed to the concrete, writhing in pain.
“Are you all right?”
It was clear they weren’t—the vomit on the ground said it all—but Ben crouched down and called out.
The person shifted, and after a few moments, began speaking in a weak, broken voice.
“…Who… who are… urghhh.”
“You seem to have had a lot to drink…”
Unless someone had been drinking heavily in broad daylight, there was no reason to be throwing up in a random alley.
A fair assumption.
Ben raised a hand to pat his back when a desperate voice stopped him.
“P-Please don’t touch me!”
“What’s—”
And then he saw it.
Ben was about to ask a question, but the moment the man raised his head, the words died in his throat.
He didn’t need to ask anymore.
He understood.
He saw exactly what was happening.
The man’s facial muscles twisted and contorted, shifting from one form to another.
One moment, he had delicate, almost feminine features, the next he morphed into a red-faced man.
Even his body shape began to shift.
“M-My power… I can’t control it. It hurts… it hurts so bad…”
The whites of his eyes, shrouded in shadow, were turning red.
He hadn’t lost control yet, but he was on the verge.
There was no mistaking it—things were not good.
“You don’t have a guide?”
“N-Not yet… are y-you… are you a guide?”
Well, yeah, technically.
But no way could Ben say he was an F-rank guide in a situation like this.
Unable to answer, Ben hesitated with an awkward expression, and the man visibly trembled harder, sinking further into despair.
Come to think of it, were there any Espers with transformation powers?
Ben had never heard of one.
Wait—
Could it be?
“The new rookie who just joined—they said he got an S-rank because of some unique trait. What was his ability again… shapeshifting, maybe? I haven’t seen it myself though.”
Something he’d only overheard a few minutes ago suddenly came rushing back to him.
* * *
