He approached the empty prime spot with pleasant anticipation. But the closer he got to the desk, the more Banteon’s steps slowed. After setting the book down on the pale paulownia-colored desk, he understood why this seat had been left unoccupied.
Though the warm sunlight streamed through the window and the soft, sheer curtains cast a perfect shade, occupying the perfect seat was a massive obstacle sprawled across it.
Even from several meters away, it was clearly visible. A low sofa sat against the wall next to the desk, and lying on it—completely out of place—was a towering man, resting a book over his face as he lay stretched out in comfort. A faint chuckle escaped Banteon’s lips at the red aura flickering around him.
Why on earth was he like this here when he had a perfectly functional dorm room?
“Don’t bother me. Get lost.”
Perhaps it was his usual sensitivity that let him sense someone’s presence from afar. Delroz’s voice was low and subdued, but laced with clear irritation. It made sense. After receiving a half-assed guiding session, he wouldn’t be in good shape. He probably hadn’t even realized the person approaching was Banteon.
Banteon took a few more steps and placed his book on the edge of the desk. A dull thud rang out as the hardcover hit the wood. At that sound, Delroz’s head shifted slightly.
“Didn’t you hear me say get lo—…hm?”
Delroz lowered the book from his face to his chest. His eyes, initially squinting in a scowl, widened when they met Banteon’s gaze.
“Banteon?”
“I don’t think a monster wrecked your dorm.”
Delroz quickly sat up, ruffling his unkempt hair and adjusting his loosened shirt. Watching him fumble with the buttons he had left open down to his chest felt oddly unfamiliar. It had been a while since Banteon saw him like this. When they first met, he was always a mess like this. Lately, Delroz had been showing up much more put-together—it had slipped his mind.
At some point, he’d started caring about his appearance. Probably around the time he’d been criticized for being unkempt while in solitary confinement. Ever since then, Delroz had made sure to appear neat and tidy whenever facing Banteon.
“Relax. I’m not here to interrupt your day off.”
“…Thanks.”
Didn’t seem like the kind of situation where thanks were necessary.
“Why are you here, anyway?”
“It’s the quietest place.”
The library was located in an annex, slightly removed from the Royal Esper Center’s main building. Most of the space was either dedicated to books or housed the librarians’ offices. Outside of the school term, it was the quietest place in the entire center.
Banteon’s brows furrowed in disbelief at Delroz’s claim that he came here for the peace and quiet. So instead of staying in his cozy dorm, he came all the way here to cultivate some kind of mood? Judging by the biting aura he was giving off, he must have driven away anyone who dared come close. There was a reason this library was so particularly silent today.
“I told you—you need proper guiding.”
Because he only received partial sessions, he’d become hypersensitive to surrounding noise and started experiencing auditory hallucinations, forcing him to seek out silence. The Esper dorms had special soundproofing materials embedded between the walls to block out noise, but that only worked for average Espers. For an SS-Rank like Delroz, it was useless. Under normal circumstances, he could regulate himself, but now it was clearly beyond his control.
If the soundproofing didn’t work, then being cooped up in the densely packed dorms must have felt like a cage.
“Since I’m here anyway, let’s finish the guiding.”
“Weren’t you here to read?”
Again, he avoided the subject of guiding. Delroz glanced over the book that had been placed on the desk. Even from a distance, he had no trouble reading the small print. His expression gradually shifted into something strange as he studied it.
“…That’s unexpected.”
“Don’t get the wrong idea. I didn’t bring it because I’m interested or anything.”
“Well, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Types of Constellation Espers, The Encyclopedia of Rare Esper Classifications… I didn’t know you were into this kind of stuff.”
“Shut up.”
Hearing the title spoken aloud only made it sound more pathetic. Just the fact that he had picked it out himself was embarrassing enough—why did it have to be him who saw it?
Banteon crooked a finger at Delroz.
“If you’re not going to do guiding, then talk to me. It’s about Rohan.”
There was a lot to say. Until now, he hadn’t had the time to go into detail about the day he met Rohan. That day had been pure chaos thanks to the monsters, and the next time they met for guiding…
He faltered as the events of that day—shoved to the back of his mind until now—surfaced again. Delroz, the one actually involved, didn’t seem to care, so why was he the only one stuck on it? Banteon quickly shoved the memory back into a mental corner.
“Let’s go to my study.”
Delroz’s expression had turned grim ever since Rohan’s name was mentioned. At Banteon’s suggestion, he nodded and stood up, finishing tidying his clothes. He buttoned his shirt up to the neck, tightened his shoes, and followed behind Banteon.
Delroz wasn’t his bodyguard, yet he walked one step behind him like someone assigned to protect him. Today, more than usual, he resembled a well-trained Doberman. His footsteps were so quiet, you wouldn’t even know someone was following unless you noticed the shadow looming a full head taller.
They entered the study located at the end of a secluded hallway. After hearing the door close behind them, Banteon shut the window, untied the curtain cords on both sides, and pulled them closed. Just in case, he even activated the voice-blocking magic stone.
“Do you remember Rohan’s face from the festival that day?”
“Slick blond hair, right? And those damn annoying red eyes.”
Delroz’s recollection matched Banteon’s. Banteon remembered him clearly because Rohan hadn’t made any effort to hide his identity. From the very beginning, Rohan had approached Banteon with friendliness, hoping he would remember him.
How was it that Delroz remembered Rohan so precisely? Was it because of his high ability? Or was it simply because Rohan hadn’t bothered to hide himself?
“The only ones who recall him properly are you and me. Everyone else who attended the festival said they never saw anyone matching Rohan’s description.”
“What?”
“It was the same when I met him in the capital. He walked right past me, but not a single person said they saw him.”
“What a creepy bastard.”
Agreed. At this point, Rohan’s unknown identity and purpose were more than suspicious—they were downright unsettling.
“What I’m about to tell you… I’ve never told anyone else before.”
Not even the Center had been informed, nor had Tearot. Banteon met Delroz’s deepening gaze and slowly began to share what he knew.
It wasn’t a long story. Banteon didn’t know much about Rohan, and they’d only encountered each other a few times. Though the account was brief, its contents were anything but light.
An unregistered Esper. A being close to S-rank who harbored hostility toward the kingdom and could command monsters. From their very first encounter, Rohan had approached Banteon with friendliness, yet something about him had always felt off. Delroz’s scowl deepened at that remark, his expression turning even more menacing.
“Did he approach you on purpose?”
“I don’t know. He said he’d come for me when the time was right, so I’m sure he’ll show up again.”
…
Delroz’s crossed arms tensed, his clenched fists twitching with unease.
“You said no one noticed when you were talking to him. Is that even possible?”
“No. Not in any practical sense. He claims he’s a Psychic-Type Esper, so it must be a unique ability. But nothing like that has ever been officially recorded.”
“So that’s why you were digging through those books.”
Banteon nodded, and Delroz, deep in thought, spoke with clear reluctance.
“For now… drag that damn cousin of yours around with you. At least until I get back, that’ll buy you some time.”
It was an unexpected suggestion. Banteon had thought he’d be told not to leave the Center at all—or to only move with Delroz in tow. For someone who never stopped criticizing Tearot, it was surprising to hear him mentioned here. He probably didn’t know the current situation between the two of them, but still, the reaction had been completely unexpected.
“Why Tearot? You don’t even like him.”
“…Because I can’t lock you up.”
His curt answer was laced with irritation. It was obvious—even to him—that this wasn’t a solution he liked.
For someone who once claimed to have feelings for him, wasn’t that a rather passive response? Banteon asked teasingly,
“I thought you’d volunteer to stay by my side yourself.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. That’d be the most foolproof option.”
If they wanted to catch Rohan when he inevitably approached Banteon, that was the most certain way. If Delroz couldn’t stop him, no one else could. At that, Delroz’s lips curled into a crooked smile.
“You’re toying with me.”
He let out a hollow chuckle and uncrossed his arms with a sigh.
“I guess you want me to reaffirm that I still have feelings for you.”
His quiet murmur echoed through the stillness of the study.
“If I said I wanted to stay by your side, would you let me? If I said I wanted to guard you 24/7, keep everyone else away—would you accept it?”
“That’s… a bit much.”
“What if I said I wanted to lock you away somewhere safe, where not even a single hair on your head could be threatened? Would you run from me without looking back?”
The growl in his voice reminded Banteon again—he’d forgotten for a moment after seeing Delroz momentarily deflated. But this was the real Delroz. He’d only tucked away his claws and dulled his teeth around Banteon—but he was still vicious and domineering at his core. That nature hadn’t changed.
Delroz, who’d been speaking irritably, relaxed the crease between his brows and clicked his tongue in annoyance.
“Don’t provoke me. Just knowing that unknown bastard has his sights on you is already pissing me off enough.”
He raked his hand through his hair in frustration and took a step back. His arms remained tightly crossed, like he was trying not to pose any threat to Banteon.
