In the Dark (2)
In my previous life, I once raised a Doberman named Blackie.
With those sharp, upright ears and a coat of glossy black fur, he was the kind of dog who made you think handsome the second you laid eyes on him—dog or not.
Of course, we hadn’t always gotten along.
When I first brought him home from the shelter, he snarled and lunged like he meant to tear my arm off.
But when I stayed patiently by his side, he slowly opened his heart.
He looked sharp and cold on the outside, yet in truth he was full of affection and hated being alone. Scratch behind his ears and he would close his eyes and lean into you; the lightest touch of a hand and he would flop over, belly exposed, shamelessly begging for more. That was the Blackie I remembered.
Why bring up a past-life pet all of a sudden, you ask…?
It might sound foolish, but the stern officer standing right in front of me reminded me of him.
“Same as always.”
“It’s true! We’ve had so few new children lately! No matter how thoroughly you search, there simply aren’t any more—!”
The officer ignored the abbess’s desperate excuses and strode forward without breaking stride.
Thump!
“Aaaah!!”
She thrust her hand into the haystack inside the barn and dragged Thomas out by the scruff of his neck. This clearly wasn’t her first time; she unerringly picked out every hiding spot the children might use—inside an old cabinet, behind the kitchen—like a bloodhound.
“If you keep pulling these little stunts, I’ll have no choice but to review cutting your subsidies.”
“…I’ll be careful.”
The abbess answered while glaring at the officer, her voice sharp enough to make it clear she had no intention of being careful at all.
“Tch. Line up, all of you.”
The officer drew a transparent orb from her coat and herded the children into the courtyard. Overwhelmed by the atmosphere, the trembling children formed a line. She pressed the orb to each forehead in turn, checking their condition.
“No mana response, and that skeleton’s pathetic. Next.”
“You… Hmm. Usable mana. Step to the left.”
Cold evaluations that sounded less like she was assessing people and more like she was appraising merchandise.
Yet layered over those words, my ears caught a completely different voice that never left her lips.
An inner voice utterly at odds with the ice-cold exterior that looked like it wouldn’t bleed even if you stabbed it. Honestly, I half-suspected I was hallucinating.
“Next.”
And finally it was my turn.
Reincarnation into another world, an orphanage, and a mana aptitude test—if the novels I read in my past life were anything to go by, this was the classic moment where the protagonist discovers his hidden power. The transparent crystal would blaze with light as if about to shatter, revealing overwhelming mana, and everyone would stand there stunned—
“…Mana is present, but it’s worthless.”
—Yeah, no such luck.
Figures. What mana?
I let out a quiet sigh inwardly and started to step back. Watching friends I’d grown up with get hauled off to the army left a bitter taste, but for an orphan, becoming a soldier could actually be a decent path upward. Me? I’d just stay behind and enjoy a quiet country life.
Still, the fact that I’d never heard anyone’s inner thoughts until now—and that they only came from this woman—nagged at me.
“Wait.”
Thud.
Just as I turned, a firm hand clamped onto my shoulder.
“Y-yes…?”
The distance closed in an instant. From the officer’s black hair, now right in front of my nose, came a thick scent of leather mixed with something strangely sweet.
While I stood frozen in confusion, she leaned in toward the nape of my neck and drew a deep breath.
Sniff, sniff.
…?
Wondering what on earth was happening, I glanced sideways—and saw the two pointed ears that had been poking out above her military cap twitch happily.
“…You give off a peculiar scent. I’ll examine you separately. Stand on the right.”
The warm breath that had been tickling my neck pulled away.
…? Scent?
Startled, I carefully lifted my sleeve and sniffed it myself.
Sniff sniff.
A musty smell soaked deep into the fabric—the lived-in odor of clothes that hadn’t been washed properly. Had I picked something up while mucking out the stables this morning?
Even so… that hardly seemed like a reason to single me out.
Still puzzled, I quietly walked over to the right side of the courtyard as ordered.
After half a day of aptitude testing, twelve of us remained in the courtyard, myself included—noticeably more passers than usual.
I knew because, though her face stayed expressionless, her flustered inner voice rang clearly in my ears.
Her pointed ears quivered ever so slightly with unease as well.
She seemed to collect herself, then stepped in front of the twelve children.
“This cohort has quite a few usable ones. All of it thanks to His Imperial Majesty’s merciful grace.”
After delivering the grand line, she pulled a palm-sized black box from her coat. The metal surface was densely engraved with unfamiliar patterns.
“However, the Empire desires only those of exceptional talent and resourcefulness. Therefore, we will now conduct a second test.”
At her chin-jerk, an aide set down eleven identical boxes at the children’s feet.
“Means and methods are irrelevant. Only those who retrieve the token inside this box pass. Smash it, use magic—do whatever you like.”
She delivered the warning without enthusiasm as the children half-heartedly picked up their boxes.
“But mark my words. If not a single one of you manages to open it, every last one of you fails—and the monastery’s subsidies will be slashed as well.”
At that moment the officer undid the top button of her uniform shirt. Against her brown skin, a small silver key glittered on a necklace.
“For reference, the key hangs around my neck. If you can manage it—feel free to knock me down and take it.”
She curled one corner of her mouth in a pleasant smile, as if daring anyone to try.
The children scattered, each clutching a box. Her aide and the soldiers left the monastery grounds to secure lodging in case the schedule dragged on.
And so only the officer and I remained in the courtyard.
I deliberately ignored the box at my feet and simply stood there.
“What do you think you’re doing? Giving up before you’ve even started?”
As if it were the most natural thing in the world, she walked over, brows drawn together as she looked down at me.
“No. Earlier you said I smelled strange.”
“…Ah. That I did.”
“Is it the smell of cow dung, by any chance?”
My bold question made her neat brows crumple hard. At the same time her ears flattened straight back in clear displeasure.
“…What did you just say?”
“Just joking. I was simply curious why I was sorted separately. You said my mana was nothing special.”
She crossed her arms as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“It has nothing to do with mana. Very rarely, some people are born with a special ‘disposition.’”
“A special disposition?”
“Yes. The Church calls it a miracle; the Magic Tower calls it a supernatural ability—that sort of thing. You give off a similar peculiar scent, but—”
She trailed off, then bent her knees until our eyes met on the same level.
“In the end, if you can’t open that box, I won’t take you. Instead of wasting time on useless thoughts, figure out how to open it.”
With that cold dismissal she turned away.
Beyond her retreating back, her wavering inner voice reached me once more.
I looked down quietly at my own two hands.
Twelve years since I fell into this world, and never once had I heard anyone’s private thoughts.
So why only this woman?
I was planning to just enjoy a modest country life…
I picked up the black testing box sitting alone at my feet.
My curiosity had grown far too large to simply let this woman walk away. If I missed this chance, I might never learn why something so bizarre was happening.
There was only one way to find out.
First I have to pass, then stick close to her side.
I tapped the surface of the box lightly and smiled to myself.
And even setting all those grand reasons aside—
Sway.
Between the hem of the officer’s uniform coat as she walked away, a sleek, long black tail swayed gently.
Unlike the Dobermans of my past life whose tails had been docked short for appearance’s sake, this one stretched out in its natural, full length—an intact tail.
Beastkin might possess animal traits, but in the end they were still people.
So how were they different from real animals, and how were they the same?
When she was happy, did that smooth tail wag like a dog’s? When she was on guard, did the fur stand on end?
If I scratched behind her ears, would even this cool-headed officer tremble her hind leg in bliss the way Blackie used to?
The inquisitive spirit of a former dog owner began to stir and rise inside me.