Meeting No. 13
"Every time I see it, I can't help but feel the same way... You really do say such embarrassing things without so much as blinking."
"Cough."
I thought I'd prepared myself for this kind of response, but it still feels like she's pushing it a little too far. Even so, the Team Leader's voice carries a hint of liveliness. Maybe she's just amused by my reaction.
"In that case, please go inside. You should at least get familiar with the face of the person you'll be counseling."
With those words, the Team Leader unlocked the door beside the glass wall. When I hesitated, wondering if she really meant for me to go in alone, she gestured for me to hurry up. Right. What am I getting nervous about? Founder said that as long as she's wearing that restraint, she can't use her abilities, and the Team Leader is right behind me. Right now, she's just an ordinary person...
"..."
Once inside, I stood before the bed. She was curled up tightly, her breathing soft and even. She must have been asleep. The bed was wide enough that she could have stretched out comfortably, yet she remained in that cramped position. Her once-matted hair had been somewhat tidied, and her face, now free of grime, looked unmistakably like that of a young woman. She must have been washed during the physical examination; the change was striking. Still, the dark shadows beneath her eyes remained heavy, untouched by water, and even in sleep her brow stayed furrowed. I couldn't tell if she was having a nightmare or if that was simply her habitual expression.
She was smaller than Yerin, who already fit neatly into my arms. Her limbs were painfully thin, suggesting she hadn't been eating properly. Yet when I looked at her now, dressed in a simple white cotton T-shirt and pants instead of rags, she didn't seem quite like a child. Though slender, her body had the gentle curves of a woman. Yerin had that same delicate, slightly prominent chest and narrow waist... and the line of her legs below the hips spoke more of malnutrition than immaturity. Wait—why am I even looking at that?
"..."
This was just to familiarize myself with the counseling subject's face in advance. Depending on where I directed my gaze, I could risk triggering her wariness, so I needed to maintain a natural posture while facing her. Living beings instinctively study unfamiliar faces, after all. Getting used to her now would let me approach the session with more composure later.
...I'm making excuses for no reason.
"Haa..."
In the end, my eyes returned to her face, and this time they lingered. Her uncommon dark-violet hair spilled over her shoulders. At first glance it looked black, but when the light caught it, it shimmered with a mysterious purple hue. It didn't seem dyed. I almost reached out to touch that strange color without thinking.
"...So this is her identification number."
When she had been wrapped in rags I hadn't noticed, but now, just below the collar of the white T-shirt, the tattoo "013" was clearly visible. That must be the prisoner's identification number. Thirteen—an unlucky number, yet here I was, the thirteenth counselor, doing my best. As for the stigma... I remembered how she had clutched her abdomen in pain back then. My gaze drifted downward on its own...
"...!"
Feeling like I was peeking at a sleeping woman's body, I quickly looked away. If she really was just a child, the guilt would have been unbearable.
"I... I'm done now."
I fled the room and found the Team Leader waiting, casually tilting her head. She looked as though she'd thoroughly enjoyed watching me flounder inside.
"What are your impressions?"
What kind of opening question was that? Still, one thought did come to mind.
"First... I want to feed her a huge, delicious meal."
I didn't think I could focus on counseling until I'd seen her eat something.
"Pfft... Heh. That's not the answer I expected, but it's very much like you, Ung-ssi. I like it. Could I perhaps get a meal from you sometime as well?"
"...It wouldn't be difficult, but..."
To eat together, she'd have to take off her mask in front of me. Lowering her resistance to removing it in that way... Hmm, was that too presumptuous? It felt like I was already drawing up a counseling plan for the Team Leader herself.
"I'll keep that in mind. Next up is Fire Chicken. It might get a little noisy, so please be careful."
"Noisy...? Huh?"
Her unsettling words made me glance at her, but she deliberately avoided giving a direct answer. The improved restraint hadn't been placed on the prisoner yet. I wondered if she was burning the isolation room with her abilities or screaming from the pain of the stigma, but it turned out to be neither.
"The moment I get out of here... I'm going to kill every last one of you. You goddamn bastards... bastards... bastards...!!"
"..."
It was the first time I'd seen the red-haired woman since waking up. Her beautiful forehead and neck were flushed with visible veins; she was furious. While I had been unconscious on the bed, several management team members had apparently gathered beyond the glass wall and begun interrogating her. She refused to cooperate at all, so there had been no progress. Their grim expressions made sense now.
"...She's not using her abilities?"
"Well, yes. She knows perfectly well that if she set this narrow space ablaze, she'd be the only one suffocating to death."
"Ah, I see."
That realization eased some of the fear. At least she still valued her own life.
"Actually, we were hoping that once you recovered, you'd use your ability to listen to the voice in her heart and quietly extract information while we guided her with questions..."
Ah, so that was the task she'd mentioned earlier. But my ability still hadn't returned to normal.
"You even sacrificed an ability user just to catch me, so of course you want information. Too bad for you—I've got nothing to say to you bastards except 'go fuck yourselves.'"
The sacrificed ability user... was she talking about me?
"So... wait, what the hell are you? Why are you still alive?"
"..."
Our eyes met.
"I'm asking you...! Why the hell are you alive?!"
"Um..."
It was awkward being asked why I was alive when I was clearly standing right here. Her voice came through the speaker clearly, but ours wouldn't reach the other side unless the microphone was turned on. She couldn't even hear what we were saying, yet she kept shouting without tiring. Still, seeing her in person felt different from the battlefield. Back then her presence had been overwhelming; now, trapped and powerless, she simply felt like a difficult containment subject.
I wondered whether I should answer and looked toward the management staff member at the microphone.
"Good morning, Fire Chicken."
"Who the hell are you calling—!"
Whoosh...!!!
Flames erupted around her body before vanishing. Of course, it was the Team Leader who had spoken, not me. She must have stepped up to the microphone at some point. And just a little while ago, she herself had told the prisoner to watch her language.
"I take it you don't like the nickname we gave you. We also considered 'Crazy Lighter' and 'Lightning-Struck Matchstick.' If you prefer those, we can change it."
"Grhh... You..."
"Personally, I thought 'Hot Girl' might work too. No, wait—you're a bit too old to be called a 'girl,' aren't you?"
"You... you traitorous bitch... I'll definitely rip off your wings and stuff them in your mouth..."
"If you actually like the current nickname, then there's nothing to be done."
If we provoked the counseling subject like this, what was I supposed to do? I could only watch nervously from the side. Surprisingly, it was Fire Chicken who regained her composure first.
"Haa... From the way you're provoking me, it seems things aren't going the way you want, huh?"
She probably knew it too. If they kept her locked up for days with no progress in the interrogation, it would be stranger if she didn't notice. But the Team Leader never backed down.
"Something like that. So we're planning to dispose of you soon."
"Ha, if you're trying to threaten me now, it's useless..."
"That's not it. Since you don't seem likely to open your mouth, we're just trying to clear you out quickly. We don't have the luxury of keeping staff tied up here."
"Don't..."
She closed her mouth. The look on her face said, "...Did that actually work? Really?"
"Besides... our staff member who nearly died because of you begged me not to make any hasty decisions."
"...?"
Was she talking about me?
"Anyway, because of that, we're going to observe you for about another week. Don't get your hopes up, though."
Ah, so she was naturally handing the initiative of the interrogation over to me? Even if the prisoner was uncooperative with everyone else, she might be willing to cooperate at least a little with me—that was the situation the Team Leader was trying to create.
"Bullshit."
...Had it failed?
"If you're going to kill me, do it now. I'm never going to say anything that would benefit you bastards anyway."
Maybe because she'd gone on a bit too long after mentioning disposal, she snorted as if the words hadn't landed at all. Of course, the Team Leader had no intention of backing off.
"What exactly are you saying? Do you really think I'd let you go so easily just because it's 'disposal'?"
"...What?"
"I've learned a bit of Sarakael's interrogation techniques over the shoulder."
She flinched. Just now, she had clearly reacted to the name Sarakael. Whose name was that? It didn't sound like a common archangel's name. And why was torture being mentioned...? Wasn't she an angel?
"I'd love to start right away, but I need time to prepare the tools. So I'll wait until then."
"..."
She fell completely silent. I didn't know exactly what the Team Leader had done, but as expected, she was impressive. After seizing the momentum, the Team Leader switched off the microphone and turned to me with an added explanation.
"Sarakael is the archangel of the Inquisition in charge of sin and punishment. Any prisoner trembles at the mere mention of her name. She's not a bad person, but... she does have a slightly twisted side."
More than that, the mention of torture was seriously bothering me. But I didn't have the courage to ask. ...I probably shouldn't ask or hear about it.
"With this, Fire Chicken will at least pretend to obey you, if only to attempt an escape using you. Well, given her personality, even pretending is something to be grateful for."
"...I'll be careful."
"We'll restrain her arms and legs as well... and once the restraint is on, she won't be able to use her abilities either, from what I've heard. Still, don't get too close to her."
"You're saying she's dangerous even unarmed."
I had no connection to combat, but even from the way she drew and aimed her dagger, I could tell she'd received considerable training.
"She is dangerous. With that insolent figure and that cheeky face that makes you want to break it, you might fall for her in no time."
"H-Huh?"
Joking even at a time like this...
"Founder will soon finish preparing the counseling room. So take a good rest for about two days."
"Two whole days? But I can't..."
"Should I extend it further? Your ability won't return right away anyway, and you should also think about Nero, who's waiting in the recovery room."
"..."
She was right... I'd been focusing only on the problem in front of me.
"Even if you're pressed for time, sufficient rest is important. A clear sense of purpose is good, but don't forget to look around you as well. You're not alone, Ung-ssi."
"...Understood."
Her words struck a chord. Every so often she would suddenly say something that reached deep inside and resonated.
"Besides... our field team leader keeps asking when your schedule is free, and it's been quite annoying."