Bunny Ears at the Door
The time spent waiting for the elevator always carries a strange mix of anticipation and unease. Even though she drops me off at the entrance before parking, I still end up waiting like this every time until she finishes and comes up. Fortunately, the elevator I called from the basement hasn't left yet.
"Did you wait long? Thanks."
By any measure, she's the one who's usually kept waiting for minutes or even hours, yet she still thanks me before stepping into the elevator that has just opened.
I can't bring myself to look at her directly, whether we're alone or in public. Too many things have happened between us. Instead, I steal glances at her profile through the mirrored wall. Standing this close, the height difference becomes obvious, yet she never feels short in daily life. That's because her proportions are exceptional—short torso, long legs, the kind of figure most women would envy. From a distance she looks easily 170 centimeters tall, but up close you realize she's closer to 160. It's oddly fascinating.
Her small head completes the proportions. The sharp, slightly upturned eye makeup, the striking blonde hair, the constantly changing nail colors, and the neatly tailored office look that somehow suits her perfectly despite seeming mismatched at first glance. Nothing about it feels strange on her.
"Got something to say?"
"...! No, nothing."
She must have felt my gaze. The enclosed space makes the air feel awkward, or maybe it's just me getting caught staring. We both end up watching the floor numbers change on the small display in silence. She speaks first, perhaps knowing that silence only makes the voice in my head louder. In a way, I suppose I failed to be considerate.
"Want a drink?"
"Ah, um..."
I know she never stops at just one glass, but for once I feel like joining her. Still, Nero is still at the facility. I can't just get drunk alone at home. The words stick in my throat.
Ding!
While I'm still hesitating, the elevator reaches the 22nd floor without waiting. I was about to say I'm tired and suggest we talk tomorrow, but I feel her footsteps following me out.
"...?"
"What?"
She should be getting off on the 23rd floor. I turn around, genuinely puzzled.
"This is the 22nd floor...?"
"Oh, I had something to tell you but forgot while we were talking. Let's go inside for a bit."
"..."
Did she notice my hesitation about the drink? Once she sits down, I won't be able to kick her out anyway. Part of me is ready to give in if she pushes a little more. Then I remember something.
'Come to think of it, she did say she had something to pass on.'
From her tone, it really does sound like she forgot.
"Ah, if that's the case... come in."
I check her expression to see if she sounds disappointed, then unlock the door. With so little furniture and Nero gone, the dark apartment feels even emptier than usual.
"...?"
I close the door and start taking off my shoes when a strange sense of unease makes me freeze. The feeling is like suddenly remembering you left the hair dryer plugged in while you're already out the door—too late, and oddly out of place. Anyone watching would have found it unnatural.
"What's wrong?"
She must have noticed how strange I looked.
"It's nothing. The doorknob just felt... different."
Or rather, the door itself felt heavier than usual. I hadn't noticed while the lights were off, but now that the sensor light has turned on, the discomfort grows. Maybe I'm just tired today, but everything I normally ignore suddenly stands out for no reason. It's an odd feeling.
"You're more sensitive than you look. I didn't think you'd notice."
"?"
Her words send a chill down my spine. I whip my head around, but she casually kicks off her heels and walks inside ahead of me.
"It's not dangerous or anything, so don't worry. If anything, it's the opposite. I heard the Field Team Leader and the Founder stopped by this afternoon and fixed the entire building in place."
"Fixed...?"
Buildings are already fixed to the ground. Fixing it again doesn't immediately make sense. She continues as if expecting my confusion.
"It's like anchoring an object's spatial coordinates. Explaining it gets complicated, so here's an example..."
She holds her phone out in front of me.
"What would happen if I let go right now?"
"It would fall, obviously."
"I'm not asking because I don't know. The kind of fixing I mean is that even if I let go, the phone would stay floating in the air."
"...The more I hear, the less I understand."
Setting aside whether it's possible, I still don't see why they would do something like that to this building.
"Well, they say seeing is believing, right?"
"What are you planning to do?"
She pulls out a short, cross-shaped object from her waist. Before I can react, she swings her arm downward. A metallic clack echoes as the segments lock into place. Only then do I realize it's a collapsible baton meant for self-defense.
Startled, I raise both hands and step back. She just smirks and walks over to the living room window. At least it's not a gun like the one she pulled out when we went out with Harpy. Still, one solid hit from that thing would shatter bone.
But what is she going to do with it... huh?
"Hup!"
She swings the heavy baton straight at the glass. I squeeze my eyes shut and turn away, already imagining the sound of shattering windows. Instead, I hear a dull, heavy impact.
Thud!
It isn't the sharp crack of breaking glass or the ringing bounce of metal. It sounds like striking a solid alloy block. I cautiously open my eyes and look back. She's tapping the window with the tip of the baton as if asking whether I saw it properly.
"A couple of missiles wouldn't even scratch it. The President ordered it for your safety."
"Even if that's true... what about the door and windows?"
If the whole place is fixed like she says, how can we open and close anything? We just walked through the door without issue.
"The Founder handled that separately. She replaced them with special materials. Unless someone tries to break them on purpose, even heavy machinery would struggle."
"..."
So the unusually heavy doorknob wasn't because I was tired. The door really had become heavier.
"If they really target you, this might not mean much. Still, think of it as a minimum safety measure."
She collapses the baton back to its short form and tucks it away at her waist. Having delivered her message, she heads back toward the entrance with light steps. She seems quite pleased with how much she startled me. And she calls this the minimum...
"Oh, right. Do you know why the President is going on a business trip next week?"
"No... I don't know the reason."
It was only a few days ago that the Team Leader said she'd try to arrange for me to accompany the President so I could meet Dorothy through Harpy's story. I wonder if she passed the message along. Now that I think about it, I never actually asked why the President was traveling in the first place. She's the chairman, after all, so I assumed it was for normal business reasons, even if she travels often.
"Thanks to your counseling, we got to hear Harpy's past story. It seems related to that."
Harpy's past? What does that have to do with the President's trip?
"Normally, Harpies live in groups. She was separated when she was very young. The President thinks there might be a reason for that."
"I'm glad it helped, but wasn't that a long time ago?"
"It might not mean much, just like you said. Still, I heard she'll stop by that branch, look through the old incident records, and check the actual site. Just in case."
The Team Leaders are already busy with work here, so the President herself is handling the investigation over there. Compared to that, my reason for wanting to go on the trip is purely personal—I just want another chance to make up with Harpy after our awkward goodbye. The thought makes me anxious about whether permission will even be granted. Taking Harpy overseas when her safety isn't guaranteed already seems difficult enough.
"So, you're saying no to the drink?"
"Huh? Uh... well, it's late, so..."
I was still thinking it would be nice if I could bring Harpy good news when she suddenly turns around at the door and asks again. I fumble for an excuse and refuse, but she doesn't seem particularly offended at being turned down twice. Instead...
"Hmm... Well, that's not so bad either."
Beep. Click.
Her usually sharp eyes look strangely bright, as if she's holding back a smile. It makes me uneasy, but before she can say anything more, the door closes and the lock engages.
I stand blankly in the hallway until I hear the elevator doors shut downstairs. Only then do I let out a small sigh and relax.
"What does she mean by 'not so bad'... Never mind."
Curious, I tap the window she struck earlier. Not a single scratch. Shaking my head, I start unbuttoning my shirt to wash up and go to bed.
That's when it happens.
Ding-dong.
"...?"
The doorbell is unfamiliar. I haven't lived here long, and no one has visited before. I instinctively check the intercom screen, but it shows nothing. Maybe a prank, or a malfunction. Just as I'm about to open the door, the screen changes.
Twitch.
"Twitch?"
A pair of long ears suddenly pop up from the bottom of the screen showing the empty hallway. I've seen those ears somewhere before. Very recently. With my own eyes.
These are definitely...
"Bunny ears...?"