* * *
“Hey, you sure you don’t wanna switch with me for that day?”
“I’ll go get the coffee. What would you like?”
He hadn’t asked to go, but there was no way he was handing an easy day of work to Zereno.
Instead of flatly rejecting him, Ben pulled his card from the drawer and sidestepped the request entirely.
“Uh… iced Americano! Sorry to ask when your arm’s still hurt, but I’d really appreciate it.”
“Understood.”
His polite but unyielding dodge landed cleanly.
Zereno, seemingly aware from the start that his request wouldn’t fly, didn’t argue.
He just waved a bag of pastries as he watched Ben head out.
Ben welcomed the opportunity. His head was a mess, and it was a convenient excuse to get away from his loud deskmate.
Without a backward glance, Ben stepped out.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Elgran.”
When Ben arrived at the café on the first-floor lobby, his eyes were immediately drawn to a man with hair shimmering in an oddly blue hue.
Even in the shaded area untouched by sunlight, the hair radiated such a vivid color that Ben had no trouble guessing who it was.
As he stepped closer and greeted him, Elgran, who had been crunching through a pile of cookies scattered across the table, flicked his pale violet eyes up at Ben with a lazy, disinterested glance.
Slouched in his chair, picking up cookies with an indifferent air, he looked so unruly that one could almost mistake him for a misbehaving alley cat.
“What are you doing during work hours?”
That’s what I want to say to you, actually.
“As you can see, I’m on a coffee run.”
“What the—coffee run? That’s creepy.”
Elgran wrapped his arms around himself and gave an exaggerated shudder.
His silky hair, draped over the backrest, swayed with the motion.
Ben, having nothing much to say in reply, glanced over the menu and asked,
“Would you like anything to drink?”
“Oh? You’re buying?”
“Of course.”
“Then I’ll have a hot chocolate. I really don’t like how the weather’s been getting colder lately. Snow’s nice, but I hate winter. Can’t we have snow without the cold?”
Even while grumbling, Elgran kept busy, shoving chocolate cookies into his mouth.
Snow was meant for winter, but for a cold-type esper like him, it seemed an unacceptable tradeoff.
“Someone like you, Mr. Elgran, could probably make it snow even in spring or summer.”
“I could, but it takes a long time, drains a ton of energy, and I just don’t like doing it.”
Ben placed the drink order while listening to that predictably dissatisfied answer.
As he waited, one thought cut through the tangled mix of emotions in his mind:
Could Elgran possibly know what Haimar and the Director talked about?
There was no way someone like Elgran wouldn’t know what Moria Iren might be guessing at.
All the more so if he belonged to Integra.
At the same time, Ben felt a bitter twist—why did he have to go the roundabout way instead of asking Haimar directly?
But since Haimar Eilec had made it clear from the start he didn’t want to talk, Ben doubted asking again would get him anywhere.
Before that, if he had to ask himself why he even wanted to know what happened between the Director and Haimar—
It just… nagged at him.
It couldn’t not bother him. It bothered him a lot. A lot.
What was so wrong about him knowing?
And what if the reason he wasn’t told was because Haimar Eilec didn’t trust him?
That thought was more troubling than hurtful.
“One iced Americano, one milk tea, and one hot chocolate.”
“Thank you.”
Since he was already meeting with Elgran, there was no reason to hesitate.
Even though Zereno’s iced Americano would be melting by now, Ben hadn’t exactly said he’d be quick, so he deftly carried all three drinks over and placed them on the table littered with cookie crumbs.
“No shame—I’ll enjoy this.”
“Mr. Elgran, there’s something I’d like to ask.”
“Oh, so this was a bribe, huh?”
Elgran’s hand, which had been reaching confidently for the hot chocolate, froze at Ben’s words.
Suspicion dripped from both his voice and his narrowed eyes.
“It’s not like that. Please hear me out—if it’s too much, you don’t have to answer.”
“Well, let’s hear it then.”
Blowing gently over the steaming mug, cooling it with his own chilly aura, Elgran casually threw one leg over the other and studied Ben as he took the seat across from him.
Elgran was impulsive—if he felt like it, he’d answer anything Ben asked.
He’d even once freely spilled stories that the Deputy Director had desperately tried to dig up, so there was nothing really stopping him now.
Besides, he didn’t expect Ben to bring up anything too serious.
“I heard Haimar had a meeting with the Director today.”
“He did. So?”
Even with the blunt response, Ben calmly smoothed his fingers over the chilled, dewy surface of his milk tea and continued, looking a bit heavier in expression.
“Do you know what they talked about?”
Elgran placed his mug on the table with surprising care after taking a sip cool enough not to burn his tongue.
He furrowed his brows, as if weighing his words.
Ben took a sip of his own drink while waiting for the answer.
“So, what you’re saying is… you don’t know what they talked about, and that’s why you’re asking?”
“Yes.”
He sounded faintly incredulous, like he couldn’t believe Ben didn’t know.
Like it didn’t make sense.
“You don’t know? Seriously?”
“……No.”
“Why not?”
That’s exactly why I’m asking.
But Elgran didn’t seem to need Ben’s response.
Propping his chin on his hand, he drifted into deep thought.
“A reason for you not to know… wait, don’t tell me—”
He twitched his eyebrows, switched how he crossed his legs, and eventually ran a hand roughly through his neatly braided hair.
His eyes cut sharply toward Ben.
“Wait. You and Haimar haven’t done it?”
“…Pardon?”
“I’m asking if you haven’t had sex.”
Ben vaguely remembered getting a similar question earlier today.
But before he could say anything, Elgran interrupted with sharp irritation.
“I figured it’d take some time to undo all three of Haimar’s control locks, but seriously? Not even once? Then what’s with him being all quiet lately like he’s not some monster?”
The barrage of questions came rapidly, and though aimed at Ben, it felt like Elgran was half-asking himself too.
“Yes, but… is that a problem?”
There was a subtle hesitation in Ben’s tone, like he feared uncovering something he hadn’t realized.
A tight tension coiled in his chest.
He couldn’t think of anything wrong—they were getting along better, if anything, and Haimar hadn’t brought anything up.
And yet.
That creeping unease kept pushing in.
It was written clearly in the deep crease on Elgran’s brow.
“That’s it?”
“Unless there’s something I’m missing…”
“Are you kidding me?”
Clatter—!
He barely nudged the table, but it made a loud sound as cookie crumbs rained down.
The untouched Americano sloshed dangerously, and Ben flinched, pulling the cup closer just in time. Elgran, in turn, shoved his own cup aside with visible annoyance.
“Do you even get what you just said? You basically admitted you know nothing about your esper. That means you haven’t been doing your job guiding him properly.”
Ah.
This time, it was Ben’s milk tea that dropped limply onto the table.
“I thought the Director was overthinking things, but damn—he was right to be panicking.”
The now-empty cookie wrapper crumpled harshly in Elgran’s hand.
To Ben, the tightly wadded lump of trash looked like a physical manifestation of Elgran’s tangled mess of irritation and anger.
“…Is Mr. Haimar in worse condition than we thought?”
“Shouldn’t you be the one to know that?”
A wave of confusion surged through him, clouding his head.
Disjointed fragments of thought whispered in his ears.
You’re doing something wrong.
“Do you have any idea how closely the Main Central is watching Haima? He hasn’t even officially returned to active duty with [Integra], and now he’s completely off the radar. They’re practically on edge. To top it off, his Guide is apparently an F-rank and labeled as an irregular. And we haven’t heard a single thing about whether the Guiding’s going well or if he’s stable enough to remove the control device. It’s a goddamn joke.”
Yet Elgran’s voice, icy and cutting, drove itself clearly into Ben’s ears.
“And now the so-called Guide doesn’t even know the condition of his own Esper, half-assing the Guiding like that. Of course both the Main Central and this place are freaking out. Are you finally starting to get it? The kind of conversation Haimar might’ve had with the Director?”
* * *
