It was Wednesday afternoon when Sylvia Kant came.
Minjun was sitting in a corner seat of the library, looking out the window. A book lay open before him, but it was only decoration. He liked watching the wind pass through the garden. When the leaves swayed, the sunlight changed between them. The more he observed it, the less he tired of it.
Silver hair spilled over his shoulders. When he tilted his head slightly toward the window, the silver hair fell to one side, revealing the line of his neck on the other. The light from the window pooled there.
‘This is the most comfortable time I’ve had in this world.’
Then he heard footsteps. They were coming this way without stopping. Since it was a library and the surroundings were quiet, the purpose in the stride could be felt from the footsteps alone. There was no hesitation in them.
He looked up.
A black bob. Sharp golden eyes. A student council armband over her uniform.
It was Sylvia Kant.
She was slightly shorter than Isabel. Her shoulders were square. Her back was straight, giving her a firm impression just by standing there. The line of her neck continued neatly into the collar of her uniform. When she raised her head slightly to look at Isabel, the front line of her neck was revealed at that angle. Her golden eyes were cool. They were the type that reflected light like metal. On her expressionless face, only her eyes moved as they scanned Isabel’s location, posture, and hands in order. There was an order to it.
She pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down without permission.
The moment she sat, Sylvia’s skirt rode up. As she sat in the chair, the uniform skirt folded inward. Sylvia did not seem conscious of it. She was focused on taking out a file. Only after placing the file on the table did she straighten her skirt with her hand.
“Isabel von Ester.”
“Mm.”
“I am here on student council inspection business.”
‘Inspection. Audit team. This is my specialty.’
---
Sylvia opened the file.
As she sat, her skirt had ridden up. At first, Sylvia did not seem conscious of it. She was focused on taking out the file. In her seated posture, with the light slanting in from the library window, that line was even clearer. Only after opening the file did Sylvia straighten her skirt with one hand. It was a natural motion. But even after she adjusted it, it was still visible from this side of the table.
Minjun looked straight ahead.
‘She fixed her skirt as soon as she sat down. I forget every time.’
‘This never came up in my work experience.’
It was a list of things this body had done. Names, dates, and details were organized neatly. The handwriting was even. Straightforward, with no cursive flourishes.
From twelve years of work experience, there was one principle for responding to audits.
‘Acknowledge the facts and present a plan to prevent recurrence. No emotions involved.’
“It’s all correct.”
Sylvia narrowed her eyes slightly.
“All of it?”
“All of it.”
“……You are not going to deny it?”
“What would change if I did?”
Sylvia was silent for a moment. Minjun looked at the file again.
“And I won’t be doing it this year.”
“……On what grounds?”
“Because there’s nothing to gain.”
---
Sylvia’s eyes changed.
From a state of coolly reflecting light, those golden eyes shifted as though something else had entered them. It felt like an analysis mode had been switched on. She looked at Isabel’s hands. Hands placed neatly on the table. Long fingers. Slender wrists. After confirming that, her gaze rose to Isabel’s face. She looked at his face, then her gaze dipped for a moment. Along the line of his neck. Toward his collarbone.
There was one second at the place where her gaze stopped.
Then it came back up.
‘She’s analyzing me.’
Sylvia closed the file.
For a moment, she did nothing. The library was quiet. Only the sound of the wind could be heard outside the window. The afternoon sunlight coming through the window stretched long across the table. The boundary of that light divided Sylvia’s and Minjun’s hands.
Minjun waited.
“May I ask an additional question?”
“As you like.”
“Why did you stop approaching Miss Armand this year?”
‘So she had figured that out too.’
“Because it was bothersome.”
“Is that all?”
“Mm.”
Sylvia stood.
The moment she stood, her skirt fell back down. What had ridden up while she was sitting returned to place. Sylvia’s hand naturally straightened her skirt. With one hand, she lightly tugged at the side. It was a familiar motion. Something she did every day. Sylvia picked up the file. The way her fingers gripped the corner of it was firm. There was no wavering.
“I will conclude the inspection record with this case.”
“Okay.”
“However.”
Sylvia paused.
“Isabel von Ester.”
“Mm.”
“You have changed.”
Leaving only that behind, she turned away. Her footsteps receded again at even intervals.
---
He waited until the sound of her footsteps had completely disappeared.
Minjun looked in the direction Sylvia had gone.
‘She’s like someone from the audit team at work. Her questions are short and precise, and she records the other person’s reactions.’
Her final words remained. “You have changed.” She was right. Isabel had changed, but Sylvia had grasped that in just two days. That meant she had compared his behavior patterns in advance.
‘She’s observant.’
He did not think of her as dangerous yet. The wind passed outside the window. The leaves in the garden swayed.
---
One hour later.
Sylvia sat at the desk in the student council office and opened the file.
It was a new page.
「Isabel von Ester — Observation Record of Behavioral Changes」
She picked up her pen.
The Isabel up to the first semester and the Isabel now were different. Her appearance was the same. Her way of speaking was similar as well. But her reaction patterns were different. There were no excuses, and no excessive explanations. She said only what was necessary and omitted what was not.
‘It is clear that she has changed. As for the reason, there is not enough data yet.’
She had to continue observing. That was the reason.
As she filled the page, her pen stopped.
She recalled Isabel’s profile as she had looked out the window in the library.
The way her silver hair spilled over her shoulders. The angle at which the light from the window pooled on the line of her neck. The collarbone beneath that neck appearing between the collars of her uniform, its depth changing each time she turned her head.
And the way the front of Isabel’s uniform changed with every breath as she sat there. When she inhaled, the front of her jacket pulled tight. When she exhaled, it loosened. Sylvia had been aware of that rhythm throughout the entire interview. Only now did she realize she had been aware of it. While Isabel sat quietly and acknowledged the facts, the front of that jacket had changed with her breathing. Isabel had not known it. Only Sylvia had.
And the way Isabel had rested her hands on the table during the interview. Her long fingers were gathered neatly together. Slender, elongated fingers. Wrists so thin that Sylvia had thought they might break if grasped.
Sylvia recognized those thoughts.
She recognized them and analyzed them.
‘Temporary decline in concentration. Distraction caused by external appearance.’
But she could not stop herself from going down once more. The way the front of Isabel’s jacket had changed as she breathed while sitting there. The rhythm of it drawing tight when she inhaled and returning when she exhaled. Only now did Sylvia realize that she had been aware of that rhythm throughout the entire interview. The fact that she had been aware of it was, in itself, true.
Sylvia consciously covered that image with the file.
Her pen moved again.
「Distraction during library interview: one instance. External appearance factor. Recurrence prevention required.」
Records were observations. Observations were data. Nothing more and nothing less.
But her pen did not move to the next line.
Isabel’s wrist had been too slender. The slenderness of it, placed neatly on the table, looking as though it might break if grasped. Even as she answered without any emotional change throughout the interview, she had not moved a single hand. Sylvia did not want to admit that those still hands had remained in her memory.
And the way the front of her jacket had changed with every breath. That rhythm of inhaling and exhaling. The fact that she remembered it was, in itself, true. If it was true, it had to be recorded.
She did not record it.
The wind passed outside the window. Sylvia did not open the file. She simply sat there. For a while.
「Recurrence prevention required.」
It was a sentence she herself had written. Sylvia quietly recognized that the sentence did not suit this moment. She recognized it and closed the file.
She only had to observe again tomorrow. That was the only reason. She thought it was the only reason.
---
That evening.
In the dormitory corridor, she happened to see Isabel’s back from a distance.
Her silver hair swayed over her back. With each step, the ends of that silver hair moved minutely from side to side near her waist. The evening light coming in through the window at the end of the corridor dyed Isabel’s silver hair orange. The light changed over the hem of her skirt as well. Whenever it clung, a ticklish impression appeared within the light, and when it fell away, it vanished.
Sylvia stopped in place.
Isabel turned the corner and disappeared.
She gripped the file tightly. She only had to observe again tomorrow. That was the only reason. She put the file into her bag.
The rhythm that Isabel’s skirt hem wove together with her scent remained behind Sylvia’s eyes. Even after Isabel had disappeared down the corridor, that rhythm did not fade. She needed a rationalization. Otherwise, the next time she faced Isabel, her gaze would likely go there again. Toward the line of her neck. Toward her collarbone. Toward the front of her jacket. And toward the rhythm made by the hem of her skirt when she walked. And she did not think it would stop there.