The Scent of Nostalgia
The black attire that reminded one of a certain someone. An expression so utterly impassive it might as well have been a mask. A person who, for reasons she could not name, carried the faint scent of childhood nostalgia. Demian Cloud.
Yet because she had never imagined she would encounter him in this place, Ellyse Bertman momentarily doubted her own eyes as she stared at him. At that precise moment Demian also turned, and their gazes collided in the space between them. For the briefest instant, time seemed to freeze entirely. It was not a romantic pause. ……Why is that man at police headquarters?
Ellyse tried to summon a reasonable answer to that perfectly reasonable question, but beyond the certainty that he had not been summoned as a suspect, she could infer nothing else. If a man who commanded the highest stock price in the continent’s steel and weapons sector had been entangled in any crime, the press would have swarmed like sharks scenting blood. She would have seen it in the morning paper on her way here. And if the matter were too grave to appear in print, he would never have walked out of the basement under his own power.
Whatever the reason, he had likely been called in as a witness. Having arrived at such a plausible explanation, all that remained was to go downstairs and confirm the truth. She could simply ask what business had brought Demian Cloud here. A trivial intellectual curiosity, easily resolved.
Besides, her shift was pressing. Ellyse knew it was both the moral and practical choice. Had her only question been why Demian Cloud had appeared at headquarters, she would have done exactly that.
But Ellyse Bertman was a woman who carried many questions in her chest, and Demian was someone about whom she had a great many things she wished to ask.
You said it wasn’t you last time, but are you truly not the one who saved me?
If it is merely coincidence, why does this bizarre sensation seize me so completely?
“Thank you for saving me.” “Likewise.”
She could not be certain whether the arms that had held her and the voice she had heard belonged to this man. The situation had been chaotic, and she possessed no frame of reference for comparison. She had never properly conversed with Demian Cloud; she could not tell whether that voice matched his. She had never been held by him; she could not judge whether his embrace felt the same.
After all, he was little more than a passing acquaintance from the previous banquet, just like the hero she had met only twice in her lifetime. It would have been more surprising if she did know much about him.
Yes. As things stood, pondering alone would yield nothing. Because right now she knew nothing at all.
Therefore Ellyse Bertman arrived at a brilliantly simple solution.
If she had no experience, could she not create some now? She could not suddenly throw herself into his arms, but a conversation should be possible.
……Yes. Let’s be five minutes late. With that much conversation, I should be able to recognize a prince’s voice immediately.
To eliminate one candidate from the list of lifelong heroes with nothing more than five minutes and a single instance of tardiness—what an enormous bargain.
Yes. She would be late.
Having made up her mind, Ellyse Bertman moved to approach the man. She stepped forward to exit the elevator she had only just entered.
And in that moment the magical pause ended. Time began to flow once more.
The doors are closing.
The elevator doors began to slide shut.
“……Huh? No, wait—!”
Startled by the familiar voice, Ellyse frantically tried to get off, but she was met with a wall. A wall of uniforms and muscle.
…Wait, what?
While she stood dazed, the elevator had filled completely with other officers. A barricade of men who had forged thick muscle and broad frames to subdue violent criminals. Still, Ellyse refused to give up. Gritting her teeth, she struggled and wriggled, trying to slip between those massive arms and torsos.
“Ugh!! Ack!! Aaaaack!!”
Ellyse Bertman, who never once thought to ask someone to press the open button, forged onward through the wall of muscle with pure iron will.
“───Nooooooo!!”
But the automatic door was faster. By the narrowest margin. Ellyse screamed and thrust out her hand, yet—
Thud!
The headquarters elevator closed its doors without mercy and descended into the basement.
Demian, who had watched the entire farce in silence, struggled to keep his face blank before the corner of his mouth finally lifted.
“……Overflowing with energy from the morning.”
Yes, officers who protected citizens ought to be brimming with vigor. Demian gave a satisfied nod and walked on. For some reason his steps felt lighter than before.
“Ah, it was because of the reference witness.”
The words came from Ellyna Bastard, who was still in charge of the Slain Pavlov human-experimentation laboratory case. Since the perpetrator’s whereabouts remained unknown, an inquiry investigation was underway, and Demian Cloud—who had briefly crossed paths with them on the day of the operation—was apparently one of the people being questioned.
Having received the summons, Demian had cleared his schedule and, disliking public attention, arrived at the crack of dawn to cooperate.
Damn it.
In a way it was exactly as Ellyse had guessed, and the realization brought no particular satisfaction. Only after the elevator doors had closed did she remember the existence of the buttons; she clutched her head and cursed her own stupidity.
…All she had to do was ask someone to press the open button. Why had she gone through all that agony?
Though she had avoided being late, Ellyse was now complaining of a headache for multiple reasons. Watching her, Ellyna Bastard let out a soft chuckle.
Why had the girl come all the way to her desk just to grumble? Ellyna rested her chin in her hand and gazed at her adorable junior.
Have I grown more approachable? Or had she simply become someone the younger woman no longer feared?
…Well, either possibility was pleasant. It meant she could interact with her junior without formalities.
Having reached that cheerful conclusion, the righteous officer Ellyna grinned and spoke.
“Inspector Ellyse, you don’t have any active cases at the moment, correct?”
“……Ah, yes.”
Ellyse, still clutching her head and groaning, widened her eyes in surprise.
Ellyna scolded her in a teasing tone. “Then you ought to take one. If you want to keep receiving a salary, you have to do some work, don’t you?”
“Uh, aren’t we supposed to move as a pair? I was told the standard is two officers per team……”
“That’s the rule, yes. Here, look at my desk.”
Suddenly wearing a bitter smile, Ellyna Bastard tapped the surface with the back of her hand. Only then did Ellyse notice the mountain of documents piled higher than usual.
The Special Affairs Division normally had no paperwork beyond reports. But Ellyna Bastard was the lead investigator on the Slain case—the hottest news both inside and outside the bureau. Even if she could not catch the culprit, she had to demonstrate that she was making every effort. That was also why she had returned to headquarters a full week ahead of Ellyse.
Ellyse Bertman had been one of the survivors as well, yet she was merely a rookie who had just completed her probationary period. The burden had fallen entirely on her superior.
Inspector Ellyse, sharp in matters like these, understood the situation at once. She looked at her boss with sympathy and nodded.
“Chief Inspector Ellyna, you’re so capable. I’m sure you’ll catch Slain in no time.”
“……Uh, I’m not that confident, actually.”
“You’re sounding unusually weak today.”
“If I’d known it would come to this, I should have just died back then. I never considered the mountain of paperwork.”
The way Ellyna muttered those words with a straight face somehow sounded genuine.
…Surely a delusion. No officer in the world would choose death simply to avoid paperwork.
After grumbling for a while longer, Ellyna Bastard regained her composure and addressed Inspector Ellyse.
“Anyway, you’ll be working independently for the time being. You’re not a child; you can handle a case alone for a week, can’t you?”
When Ellyse hesitated, Chief Inspector Ellyna added, “I have no intention of assigning a dangerous field case to a rookie who just returned today with almost no experience. Our division isn’t that irresponsible. Of course, we’re still in a profession where you should always keep your last will updated. But just this once, I’ll give you something easy.”
Ellyna clapped her hands and smiled brightly. “This benevolent superior, Chief Inspector Ellyna, shall personally show you the list of stale cases.”
All to escape this hellish pile of documents, of course.
A dusty archive. More precisely, a space packed with filing cabinets stuffed full of case files.
No one knew when it had been established, but the stale air made it clear that few people took any interest in its contents. It was a repository for incidents too unusual for civilian authorities yet too low-priority for immediate attention.
Ellyse Bertman felt the place resembled an antique shop as she slowly circled the shelves.
Chief Inspector Ellyna, who had boasted about showing her this place, had been caught by the Special Affairs Division Director the moment he arrived at work and was now trapped at her desk. Thanks to that, Ellyse had the luxury of exploring the archive at her leisure.
Rather nice, actually.
Ever the optimist, Ellyse felt her mood brighten again and began to hum.
Red Mask Sighting. Righteous Werewolf. Eastern Continent Martial Artist Massacre.
She scanned the faded nameplates and moved quickly past them. None of the titles particularly drew her in.
Inspector Ellyse continued walking until she suddenly stopped.
CLOUD TERROR INCIDENT
She had found a painfully familiar name.