Fading Memories of a Polite Anomaly
◎ "Y-you could speak after all."
Kang Ara, a 3rd-grade researcher at Public Interest Corporation "Blank" and a 2nd-grade authenticity appraisal Awakened ability user, let out a deep sigh on a dark street, dressed in her pink pajamas. She thought back to the Weird Phenomenon entity she'd just encountered. Its impression was already fading rapidly from her mind like mist, but it had definitely said, "See you later." It was a remarkably pleasant, gentle voice. A shiver ran down her spine as she recalled the predicament she'd been trapped in. She'd nearly died. Or more accurately, she might have ended up in a fate worse than death.
Even though she worked in a field related to Weird Phenomena, she was a researcher, not a field investigator. She dealt with contained entities plenty of times, but she was rarely deployed directly to sites. The rulebook derived from 62 attempts using Ma-433 "Survivor's Bias Tool Bag-D" had saved her. If the Incinerator's rulebook hadn't been registered in the database, she would've died easily. Sure, the Incinerator was relatively tame, clean, and polite compared to its rating, but a Weird Phenomenon was still a Weird Phenomenon.
Even as an Awakened ability user, her baseline physical abilities were only slightly better than a regular person's—enough to qualify her at that measured rank thanks to her high-grade authenticity appraisal skill. Still, that was worlds better than that bald guy. If she hadn't read the rulebook for fun, if her memory hadn't held up, if luck hadn't been on her side, she'd probably be dead. For some anomalous reason, she'd been pulled inside despite not breaking any trash disposal laws.
Kang Ara's head started to ache faintly at the thought. Anomalies meant revisions to the rulebook, which meant more sacrifices. And inside one Weird Phenomenon, she'd encountered another. A hazy image lingered: a white, fluffy silhouette. The fact that she already couldn't recall its exact shape suggested a strong cognition hazard effect. At least it had been incredibly friendly toward her there—almost like it wanted to help. Human-friendly Weird Phenomena weren't common, but they did exist. Still, caution was key. Anomalies could turn on you at any moment. Plenty lured humans in with feigned kindness.
Kang Ara gave silent thanks for slipping through the eye of the needle. If not for that bald man, she'd have become an employee of the Incinerator due to the blocking phenomenon. She made a mental note to include in her report that anomalies visited the Incinerator as customers too. Staring at the hand she'd shaken with the entity, she reflected. In her line of research work, she'd had fair experience contacting human-friendly anomalies, so extending her hand had felt natural—but her seniors always chewed her out for it. Still, she'd never had her wrist or forearm severed like she might've deserved for startling one. And this entity had responded with such softness. Something like a hand had gently kneaded her own, warming her heart.
She tried once more to recall the entity clearly. Its exact form wouldn't stick—just a fluffy appearance, white in color. It seemed to carry something around. And... a faint, evaporating memory of a pleasant scent. Given times her ability hadn't worked on it, she guessed it was a high-grade Weird Phenomenon. She resolved to get Neurogen prescribed at the office. She could endure its awful taste for a solid report and to recapture that fading tactile memory.
As Kang Ara walked a bit further, a familiar landmark came into view. Praise be—despite some spatial displacement, this margin of error was lucky after getting caught in a Weird Phenomenon. Or maybe the Incinerator's "politeness" made it so. She hurried along with her usual quick, chest-minimizing gait and soon reached home. It felt even more welcoming than after a normal shift. Glancing at the clock, it was just past 11 p.m. Fast for getting tangled in a Weird Phenomenon. But her long-awaited day off had still flown by.
She'd planned to toss the trash, crack a beer, and binge the anime backlog. With a pang of regret, she headed for another shower. For analysis, she sealed her pajamas in a containment bag and snipped a bit off her hair ends into a small envelope. Popping a Weird Phenomenon anti-contamination pill, she began showering with body wash laced with flame-retardant cleaner.
She replayed the incident step by step. Soaking under the hot water, she felt memories slipping away. A chunk seemed missing in the middle—like something hectic had happened, but she'd just been staring at her feet. Definitely needed Neurogen. The thought of its nauseating taste made her shudder. She knew where it came from but pushed it aside. It's just medicine! Shaking her head, she escaped the hot water, dragged her languid body to bed, and dove in.
At that moment, her phone—plugged in for charging—blared with the distinctive tone of an emergency disaster alert. Startled, Kang Ara dashed over to check it. Her wallpaper was a cool, handsome guy from her favorite sports anime. Overlaying it was the alert text.
West Coast vicinity: 1st Grade+ mana disaster alert.
Precise location tracking in progress.
Rare stuff. And a bit ominous. Kang Ara sighed deeply, figuring work would be hell tomorrow. Beer... I want a beer. But she had to clock in early. Too late for even one—her nitpicky senior researcher would sniff it out and bitch. No doubt about it. The higher-ups seemed nicer than her, weirdly. She ended up tagging along to their external events a lot. Puffing her cheeks in a pout, she resigned herself to waiting for the next day off. At least she'd survived with her life. Counting her blessings, she burrowed under the covers and closed her eyes.
As she lay there, the pleasant scent the anomaly had exuded kept drifting back to her.
○ "Did you see the latest report that came in?"
A woman with long hair and a white mask spoke.
"Which one?"
A man with short hair and a white mask replied. Both wore identical pitch-black suits—featureless at first glance, but catching the light revealed faint geometric patterns shimmering on the surface.
"Ta-112. The recent one on the Incinerator."
"Ah, the one from that polite asset?"
"Yes."
Let's call the long-haired woman A and the short-haired man B. A clacked her heels as she walked over and placed a hand on B's shoulder while he sat. B began rummaging through a thick stack of bundled documents. A started kneading his shoulders—softly for the most part, stimulating at times. She even lightly scraped his nape with her nails.
In the vast, silent white space, atop a desk holding the hefty pile of files, B finally unearthed the report A mentioned. 3rd-grade researcher Kang Ara's Weird Phenomenon classification: Ta-112. Per Corporation Rule Article 5, Paragraph 2, it was written in narrative form. B skimmed it quickly.
He wondered if Awakened ability user Kang Ara's real quirk wasn't "beloved by anomalies" but writing novels. Prescribed six—six—doses of Neurogen, her report detailed and entertainingly recounted the events.
Finishing the somewhat abruptly cut-off report with a twinge of regret, B spoke up. "This is... Ha-272?"
"Yes, Ha-272. Seems she encountered the Magical Girl Impostor."
A toyed with B's short hair as she answered.
"You think precise classification of that entity is still impossible?"
B continued, accustomed to her touch. A began fiddling with his earlobe, which quickly flushed red. Satisfied, she replied. "If the report's approved, it'll start with a 1."
"Ahem. You think it has rules?"
B cleared his throat. A smiled behind her mask. "We can infer a few, but basically it'll resemble the Magical Girl Laws themselves. For precision, we can only hope investigators with Ma-433 Tool Bag-D make contact."
B grasped A's hand on his shoulder. "Don't use overly aggressive methods."
"Of course. No intent to antagonize. Just... a little greed creeping in. I don't want the branch to vanish."
Their hands intertwined stickily. A reiterated a recent confirmation. "Dimensional positioning shows the Incinerator's completely gone anyway."
Imagining the disappearance of Ta-112 Incinerator—deemed uncontainable, uneradicable—A shivered with thrill. A clammy, chilling dampness seemed to rise around her. Feeling her hand tremble, B hurriedly said, "No greed. Please."
"If we could just manage it, it'd be our ultimate ace, right?"
"As always, management is the hardest part. And it could endanger us."
A leaned in slyly, grabbing B's neck with her other hand. "Got it, big bro. I'll be careful."
Their masks touched with a soft clack.