The morning after defeating the Reorganizer was apparently this mundane. Kenji thought this while standing vacantly with his hand against the corridor wall. He should have collapsed from exhaustion last night, yet he'd woken up strangely early. The truth was, the Yoken had been trembling faintly, keeping him from sleep. From the Tetsu-fumi Plaza—the fortress's sixty-meter diameter circular training ground—came the sound of crackling electricity despite the early hour. (That sound... surely not...) An ominous premonition washed over him. Kenji's premonitions were generally accurate based on experience. But this time he didn't need to use the Yoken. He could hear Lina's voice coming from the direction of the training ground. "Output adjustment! Output! I can definitely do this! Stay calm, stay calm—" That "stay calm" was the kind she was telling herself, Kenji immediately judged. That was not a good sign. CRASH!!!!!! A deafening roar shook the fortress's stone walls. The moment Kenji turned the corner of the corridor— A bolt of electricity shot down the hallway, striking a bucket placed against the wall. CLANG!!!! The metal bucket flew, and the water inside—abundantly—rained down on Kenji's head. Splash. "………" The world froze. Only the sound of dripping water echoed through the corridor. Lina, standing at the entrance to the training ground, spun around with her water-blue short bob nearly standing on end. Her golden eyes had gone completely round. "Kenji?!?!" "……Good morning." "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!!!" Lina rushed over. With both hands clasped together, she bowed desperately while simultaneously launching into an explanation. "Um, so after we defeated the Reorganizer, my magical power got really excited inside me, and Celia told me to practice output adjustment confirmation, but I guess I got too eager, and my emotions got heated—my magical power—electricity ran down the corridor—the bucket—" "Yeah." "And, the bucket got hit and water—" "I know. It hit me." "I'm so incredibly sorry!!! I'll get something to wipe it! A towel! Right now!" "It's fine. I can just change into—" Kenji stopped there. Change, huh. (...Do I even have dry spare clothes?) Thinking back, he didn't. The issued combat uniform was what he was wearing. There should have been another one, but it got singed on the back during last week's training when he got caught up in Lina's rampage. That one was still in repairs. "I don't have any." "Huh?" "Spare clothes. Dry ones." Lina's face turned blue. Then red. Then blue again. Her complexion was busy. "So then you'd just—" "Just like this." Kenji wrung out the water-soaked sleeve of his combat uniform once. It was drenched. At that moment, footsteps came from down the corridor. A fortress messenger. Upon seeing Kenji, his eyes widened for just a moment, but he quickly composed himself and held out a letter. True to form for fortress personnel—unflappable. Kenji accepted the letter with wet hands. "To Tactical Advisor Kenji Sato: Submit a formal report regarding the defeat of the Reorganizer by end of day. Location: Top floor of Akatsuki Tower, Executive Office. —From the Warrior Commander" Having finished reading, Kenji looked up to the heavens while soaking wet. Water dripped from the edge of his sleeve onto the corridor floor. "I'm going." "Wait!! At least let me get you a towel—" "It's fine. It'll probably dry while I'm writing the report anyway." Lina shouted "That's absolutely impossible!!!" but Kenji was already walking. --- By the time Kenji reached the top floor of Akatsuki Tower—the twenty-two-meter-tall stone command tower standing at the fortress's center—he'd given up counting how many stone steps he'd climbed. The wet soles of his shoes made the stone steps slippery. He knocked, and without pause came the response: "Enter." Opening the door, he found Celia at her desk. Her silver hair was braided high, and she wore a thin cloak over her combat uniform. The sword scar on her left cheek was clearly visible in the morning light streaming through the window. Her ice-blue eyes looked at Kenji. They looked. Then, slowly, her gaze descended from the top of his head to his feet. She said nothing. "Good morning." "……Enter." He was already inside, but since she'd said it again, Kenji took another step in. Water dripped at his feet. Celia's gaze paused for just a moment—truly just a moment—on Kenji's body, where the water-soaked combat uniform clung to his form. The wet fabric outlined his physique quite plainly, and the forty-year-old man's build was more defined than expected. The moment Celia's eyes registered this, they quickly dropped to the documents on her desk. "May I go get a change of clothes?" "Rejected. The report comes first." "I don't have any dry clothes." "Rejected." "You said that twice just now." "Write the report, Sato." That was the second rejection. Kenji sighed and pointed to the edge of the desk. "May I sit?" "The chair will get wet." "Then I'll write standing." "Do as you like." It was quite a conversation. Kenji ultimately took up a quill by the window. Celia silently handed him a formatted piece of parchment. As he took it, Kenji found himself somewhat impressed that the combination of his current soaking state and desk work felt so natural. It should have been far stranger than any job he'd done during convenience store night shifts, yet somehow he thought, "Well, I suppose this is how it is." Since coming to Elgaria, such sensations had increased. Only the sound of dripping water echoed in the executive office. Celia continued writing. Kenji began as well. The encounter point with the Reorganizer, the scope of the erosion zone, the number of Void manifestations, the Yoken's operational status. As he wrote, yesterday's events came back in sequence. And with them came what he didn't want to remember. The corner of the page blurred. A fragmented vision from the Yoken. The fortress's outer wall crumbling. Lina screaming in the darkness. Celia's sword wet with blood. It wasn't footage from yesterday's battle. He knew that. That battle was already over. Celia was alive here now, and Lina was safe. Yet only that image glowed in the depths of his mind. Burned in, refusing to fade. Kenji stopped writing. In the margin, he briefly recorded it. The fortress wall crumbles. Lina's voice. Celia's sword, stained with blood. He felt Celia look up. Without changing his focus, Kenji returned his gaze to the report. He finished writing. He aligned the parchment. Only the part with the fragmented margin, Kenji folded with his finger. There was a candelabra on the desk's edge. The candle flame flickered softly. Kenji gently brought the folded page's edge to that flame. It burned quietly. "What are you burning?" Celia's voice was sharp. "A writing error." "I don't permit errors in reports. Rewrite it." "The page I burned was separate. This is the report." Kenji placed the parchment on Celia's desk. Celia's ice-blue eyes looked at Kenji. A gaze that seemed to measure, to probe. But she didn't press further. That was Celia's way, Kenji had come to understand recently. Celia's eyes dropped to the report and she began reviewing it. "You're dismissed." It was brief. Kenji nodded and headed for the door. "Sato." He turned back. Celia was already reading the report, her gaze not lifting. "Dry off before you come back." "……Yes." He closed the door. Water dripped onto the corridor floor. --- On the way back down the corridor, Kenji encountered Misha. Coming from the direction of the Medical Wing—the Chamber of Silence—was long silver-white hair that caught his eye in the corridor's dim light. Dressed in white garments, she walked with a slow, measured pace. Despite lacking sight, she navigated the corridor's steps and wall pillars without difficulty. "Kenji Sato." His name was called. He'd stopped being surprised at how she knew. "Good morning." Misha approached and stopped before him, her clouded white eyes directed toward him. She smiled gently. But her eyes—or rather, something beyond sight—seemed to be reading his condition. "Your very breathing makes the world slightly surprised." Kenji was silent for a while. "What does that mean, exactly?" "I don't know." It was an immediate answer. Kenji's thoughts froze like a stopped pen. "You don't know?" "I simply conveyed what I felt." Her tone was calm. She didn't seem rushed, nor did she seem to be speaking in riddles. She was simply stating what she sensed, plainly. That quietness made it heavier. Misha began to pass by. "Misha." Her footsteps stopped. "Something else is about to move." She said this without turning back. Her silver-white hair swayed in the corridor's air. Then she continued walking. Misha's footsteps faded into the distance. Kenji was left alone in the corridor. Water dripped to the floor again. He tried to laugh it off. But he couldn't quite process the weight of those words. --- The residential wing was quiet in the deep night. Most fortress personnel were asleep at this hour. Only occasionally did the sound of patrolling soldiers echo through the corridors, and otherwise there was only the sound of night wind flowing through the stone walls. Kenji couldn't sleep. Fragments from the Yoken kept surfacing in his consciousness. Even burned, they wouldn't disappear. He had no way to judge whether it was imagery or premonition, whether it was about the future or possibility. It just kept repeating. The fortress crumbling. Lina's voice. Celia's sword stained with blood. He rose from his bed and put on a thin jacket. Stepping into the corridor, the cold air of the stone walls touched his neck. The daytime commotion seemed like a lie; the fortress's night was deep. He walked vaguely to the corridor's end and leaned his back against the stone wall. He sat down. Knees raised, head resting against the wall. (What do you do with something that won't disappear even when burned?) While thinking such things, he heard a sound from around the corner. Patter patter—footsteps. Barefoot or thin indoor slippers. Light. A water-blue short bob peeked around the corner. "Oh." "Oh." Lina was in thin sleepwear. The white fabric reflected the faint moonlight of the corridor. She had the air of someone who'd gotten up in the middle of the night, her hair completely disheveled. Her golden eyes looked at Kenji, then glanced around the corridor's chill. "Are you on patrol?" "Let's say that." "Can't sleep?" "What about you?" "I can't sleep either." The explanation became too much trouble for either of them. Lina sat down beside Kenji as naturally as if it were obvious. Back against the wall, knees drawn up and hugged. When the two sat side by side, Kenji took up slightly more width. An old man's volume couldn't be denied. For a while, there was silence. From down the corridor, night wind flowed faintly. The fortress's stone walls grew cold in the night, and chill seeped from behind. Yet from where Lina sat, warmth gradually transmitted. Their shoulders and arms touched through the thin sleepwear. It was warm. "I'm here beside you," Lina said quietly. Not with her usual energy. Not with brightness layered on. Just the plain meaning of the words. That's how he understood it. Kenji searched for a response. "Thank you" would work. "It's fine" would work. Anything would work. But none of them felt right, and time passed while he thought. In that time, Lina's shoulder gently leaned against his arm. There was weight. There was warmth. Through the thin fabric, the movement of Lina's breathing transmitted to his arm. Inhale, exhale. In a slow rhythm. Kenji held his breath slightly. The soft weight of the leaning body and the warmth contained within it spread gradually from his arm's skin through his upper arm. The thin sleepwear fabric was there, but the body heat came thro