Chapter 11: Late-Night Reports Are Not Business Communications

“I’ll be submitting my completion report tonight as well.”

Fran, who had left after leaving me with those words, actually returned to the guild ten minutes before closing time. That day, things ended with a concise report: “I will go to sleep at 11:00 p.m. as planned.”

But my relief—thinking, Oh, that’s surprisingly normal—ended right there.

The following evening. “Nagi. Today’s report. …My anxiety was a bit strong. But after recalling three times that you told me, ‘Eighty points is fine,’ my breathing steadied.”

Just before closing on the day after that. “When other people tell me to rest, it makes me angry, but I can follow your words. This is critical data regarding my rest execution rate.”

And then, a few days later. The time of her reports grew later and later, and the content morphed into something entirely personal wrapped in logic—specifically, “how my existence affects her mental state.” Even in my previous life, I remembered how tasks would snowball from the accumulation of well-meaning requests like, “Could you just listen for a second?”

My bad premonition was reaching its peak.

＊　＊　＊

The sun had completely set on the post-closing guild. As I was putting away the ledgers, the guild doors opened.

Click, clack. Footsteps echoed across the floor.

“Nagi. My completion report.” “Fran, today is way too late no matter how you look at it… wait, what’s with that luggage?”

My eyes went wide. Behind Fran, an owl that looked like her familiar was unsteadily carrying a high-quality duvet, a pillow, and a trunk full of a change of clothes.

“As you can see, it’s a complete bedding set.” “I can see that, but why is it here?” “My sleep onset error rate at home remains high.”

With an extremely serious face, Fran blurted out something outrageous.

“As a result of a logical analysis of the cause, I hypothesize that the ‘physical distance from you, the operations manager,’ is the anxiety factor. Therefore, tonight, I will conduct a sleep environment test in close proximity to you.” “…Excuse me?” “To put it simply, I’m sleeping here.”

She was informing me after the fact.

“Hold on a second!!”

Right then, a silver bullet shot out from the darkness of the hall. It was Lise, the A-Rank exclusive solo adventurer who had stayed behind at the guild as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Camping around the reception counter is prohibited! It’s written on the poster!” “Oh my. What I’m applying for is the ‘Mental Health Consultation Desk’ small room. It’s not around the counter.” “That’s just splitting hairs!” “Call it legal interpretation, please.” “It’s not a law!”

Lise stood protectively in front of me, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. Fran, with a cool expression, pulled out her staff.

“Hey, hey, what’s this? A sleepover?”

Hearing the commotion, the Guild Master appeared from the back, a liquor bottle in one hand, grinning broadly.

“Guild Master, please stop them. The guild is turning into an inn.” “Ain’t it fine? Lend her a small room. Lise, you were planning on doing night guard duty (a.k.a. loitering) anyway, right?” “…! I am! I’m sleeping in the small room too!” “Hah?! You are unnecessary noise for my environment test!” “This isn’t a group session or a lodging facility!!”

My shouts were in vain; the situation was forcefully pushed through by the half-amused authorization of the Guild Master.

＊　＊　＊

A few dozen minutes later. On the floor of the small consultation room, Fran’s imported high-quality duvet and a practicality-focused sleeping bag that Lise had dragged out from somewhere were laid out side by side.

I sat at the desk in the corner of the room, doing overtime work (a.k.a. babysitting) by the light of a lamp.

It was an abnormal space. From behind me, I could hear the breathing of two sleeping girls.

Actually, Lise was completely out cold. “I’ll keep an eye on Nagi… zzz…” she had declared, falling asleep in five minutes. To her, this place where I was had apparently become the safest den in the world.

On the other hand. Fran, who was tucked into her duvet, was still awake.

“…Nagi.”

Fran’s terribly small voice echoed in the quiet, nighttime small room.

“I’m awake. Can’t sleep?” “…Yeah.”

Fran peeked her face out just a little from the bedding. It wasn’t the face of the usual flawless genius mage, but just a girl suffering from insomnia.

“But, it’s much quieter than when I’m getting into bed alone at home.” “I’m glad to hear that.” “Listening to the sound of your pen scratching against the paper… it makes me realize that I’m being ‘managed,’ and it makes me feel profoundly safe.” “…” “Hey, Nagi.”

Fran’s blue eyes reflected the lamp’s light in the darkness, capturing me straight on.

“Just remembering your voice is enough to steady my breathing a little bit.” “…Is that a progress report?” “Yes. To me, it’s critical data for executing my rest.”

It was coated in logic, but the reality was a completely private outpouring of emotion.

Fran lowered her eyes just a bit, asking hesitantly, yet piercing right to the core.

“…Do you,” “Yes?” “Do you let other people rest like this too… making them feel just as safe?”

It was a quiet voice. And yet, with just those words, the air in the small room grew tense.

She didn’t look satisfied. She wasn’t angry, either. It was simply the face of someone worrying about the “existence of others” for the first time.

The moment a clear sprout of “possessiveness” quietly showed its face, still wearing the guise of logic.

“…”

As I found myself at a loss for words, Fran gave a soft, faint smile.

“No, you don’t have to answer. …For now, just let me listen to your sounds a little longer.”

Saying that, Fran slowly closed her eyes.

These late-night reports were no longer business communications. For her, they had completely transformed into a terribly heavy, sweet “ritual” to keep me tethered to her.