Chapter 38: Restless Night

The conversation with Riku Suito had strengthened Chen Zi’ang’s resolve to handle the anomaly on his own. After all, she was a veteran agent whose tenure in the intelligence division was nearly twice as long as his entire career. If she also believed there was no need to report this to headquarters, then what reason was there for hesitation?

“I’m going to get some milk,” Riku Suito said suddenly, standing up from the hot spring.

Though the intelligence officer was getting on in years, she still appeared rather slender—indeed, she was thin in all the places one might expect, and perhaps even where she shouldn’t have been. Chen Zi’ang made a deliberate effort not to look at her, lest he betray a look of pity.

Once Riku Suito had left, only he and Suzuna Tsukimiya remained in the spring.

“Senpai,” Suzuna said abruptly, “don’t you think the intelligence officer is quite attractive?”

The question was so blunt that Chen Zi’ang almost didn’t want to answer. But on second thought, if he tried to be evasive, might she not read too much into it and misunderstand further? That would only make things more troublesome.

“Riku? She was my mentor when I first joined the agency,” he replied, sidestepping the question.

“Huh?” Suzuna’s eyes widened in surprise.

If they were mentor and mentee, it meant their relationship was closer than that of ordinary colleagues. But on the other hand, Chen Zi’ang had been with the agency for five years, and Riku Suito had never pursued a romantic relationship with him, which proved that the intelligence officer was no real threat.

From her own recollections, Suzuna knew that her senpai was the sort of man who was difficult to pursue romantically. It was laughably easy to become his friend, but absurdly difficult to become his lover.

The only proven method was to start as friends and, with just the right measure of subtlety, gradually seep past his emotional defenses.

Playing at ambiguity required considerable finesse. For most men, push too far and they would surrender without a fight, but her senpai was a particularly conservative, upright type, who thought little of his own worth and was always putting others first.

If Suzuna were to be too forward, he would surely give her the “good person” card and distance himself.

Fortunately, she understood his way of thinking very well. All she needed was to keep their flirtation at a level that left him vaguely unsettled but not enough to provoke a reaction, making him wonder if he was overreacting—slowly narrowing the psychological distance between them.

With this in mind, Suzuna suddenly grinned.

“Senpai, why do you keep looking to your right? Is there something over there worth your attention?”

It was only because you’re on my left… Chen Zi’ang hedged, answering, “It’s nothing; I was just thinking.”

“Still worrying about what’s coming?” Suzuna leaned closer. “I don’t think you need to be too anxious, Senpai.”

“Oh? How so?” he asked, curiosity piqued.

“Isn’t it strange?” she said with a mischievous smile. “My family does have a bit of influence in politics, but Division Six is so secretive that if I knew nothing of the supernatural, I shouldn’t even be aware of its existence, right?”

Her words served as a timely reminder. Indeed, within the public security system, Division Six was so highly classified that even other departments within the agency only knew it as “handling matters related to national security.”

If Suzuna had no knowledge of the supernatural, she wouldn’t even know what Division Six did, let alone think of joining it.

“Suzuna, does that mean…” Chen Zi’ang asked, taken aback.

“But didn’t you say, Senpai, that one’s supernatural capabilities are classified and can’t be casually disclosed?” Suzuna propped one arm across her chest, the other hand thoughtfully stroking her chin.

Perhaps the hot spring was simply too warm; the rising steam seemed to blur the air, and Chen Zi’ang averted his gaze, saying, “But I’ve told you about my abilities, haven’t I? Doesn’t that mean I don’t really see you as an outsider?”

“Is that so?” Suzuna’s eyes sparkled. “But you call the intelligence officer by her first name, and yet you still address me by my surname—what’s that about?”

So that’s what she’s jealous about… Chen Zi’ang hesitated, then said, “Should I call you ‘Suzuna’? Isn’t that a bit…”

It felt embarrassing, somehow.

“Please call me Suzuna-chan!” she suddenly grabbed both his hands, leaning in with utmost seriousness.

“All right, all right—Suzuna it is!” he surrendered quickly.

“Hmph.” Satisfied with her small victory, Suzuna finally let him go.

Though she hadn’t won the coveted “Suzuna-chan,” the shift from “Tsukimiya” to “Suzuna” was an obvious and significant step forward.

The door slid open then, and Riku Suito returned with three bottles of milk, handing one each to Chen Zi’ang and Suzuna.

Chen Zi’ang took his bottle, surprised to find it was cold. Drinking chilled milk after a hot bath—he wondered what tradition of the island people this peculiar custom came from.

“Senpai, I can’t open mine,” Suzuna said, handing him her bottle.

He opened it for her without thinking, only to hear Riku Suito say, “We’ll begin operations after midnight. Make sure to get some rest beforehand.”

“What’s happened?” Chen Zi’ang asked, instantly alert.

“That thing is getting restless,” she replied off-handedly. “We need to return it as soon as possible.”

“Understood,” Chen Zi’ang said, rising from the spring. “Let’s go, Suzuna.”

After a rinse in the shower and drying himself off, he returned to his room, intent on getting some sleep in advance.

…But he couldn’t sleep.

His mind was full of the thick, swirling steam of the hot spring, leaving him unable to settle down.

Chen Zi’ang squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to think of anything at all, when suddenly there was a knock at the door.

He quietly rose from his bed and crept to the door, peering through the peephole.

It was Suzuna, dressed in a yukata. What could she want at this hour?

He let her in, activating his sixth sense as a precaution.

No problems—it was indeed Suzuna.

“Senpai, I can’t seem to fall asleep,” she murmured, rubbing her eyes. “Maybe I slept too much on the train. I’d like to stay here for a while.”

“Is it nerves? Your first assignment?” he asked sympathetically.

“That’s probably part of it,” she replied with a wry smile.

A rookie’s first deployment—of course she’d be nervous. Go on, Senpai, comfort me properly~

“I haven’t even used this bed yet,” he admitted, not wanting to confess that he too was sleepless, thanks to her. “Why don’t you lie down for a bit? I’ll sit over on the chair.”

“Okay,” Suzuna replied, kicking off her slippers and climbing onto the bed, sprawling there like a sleepy cub in a hollow, blinking up at him.

Chen Zi’ang sat at the desk by the window, scrolling through the materials Riku Suito had sent earlier.

“Senpai, you’re so diligent,” Suzuna teased, resting her chin in her hands and swinging her bare calves idly.

“Suzuna, pull your collar up a bit,” he reminded her.

Only then did she seem to realize that lying prone on the bed, neck arched, chin in hands, combined with the loose collar of her island-style yukata, exaggerated her allure.

“Nope,” she replied, grinning. “You’re working so hard, I know you wouldn’t sneak a peek, right?”

You’re a girl—shouldn’t you at least be a little conscious of modesty… Chen Zi’ang could only grumble inwardly and return to his work.

A while later, he glanced over and saw that Suzuna had already fallen asleep, lying on her back, her chest rising and falling gently.

He got up and, with care, drew the blanket over her.

Only then did he notice that, at some point, a trace of tears had appeared at the corner of her eye.

Suzuna… was crying?