Florence caught the faint, unpleasant scent still clinging to Leon's heavy coat, and seemed to furrow her brows. Without asking, she placed the coat on the clothes hanger.
"How about we have some tea? You look like you desperately need it, Leon." Florence turned toward the small table where the tea set was placed. Her blue eyes momentarily swept over Leon's sturdy silhouette in the doorway before she shifted her gaze, as if giving Leon space to process the peace of the small, warm home. She knew something was bothering Leon. She poured hot water into the teapot, creating a soft, soothing hissing sound.
Leon nodded slowly. He could feel the smell of dried blood, coal oil, and a fishy aroma still clinging to him; even the cold sandalwood of his own perfume couldn't mask it.
"Thank you, that will be very helpful, Flo," his deep voice was slightly strained. He removed his shoes and took a seat. Florence sat across from him, her slender hands carefully placing a porcelain cup in front of Leon. The elegant aroma of Earl Grey began to overtake the smell from outside.
Leon reached for the cup, sipping the tea slowly. The warmth flowing down his throat contrasted with the tension that still lingered.
Florence offered a faint smile, her eyes observing Leon for a moment. "It's been a long time, Leon. How was your assignment in the eastern continent? Did everything go well?" she asked, giving Leon an opening.
Leon raised his eyebrows and then set the teacup back down.
"Well, if you're asking whether my investigation was successful, the answer is yes. But the problems I encountered there have become a suffocating routine." Leon wore a cold expression, then shook his head faintly.
"In the north, very close to the polar area... we encountered something very bizarre." His eyes shifted to look at the surface of the tea that had been poured, as if the answer was hidden there.
"And my memory of that incident is increasingly fading. It feels... very unnatural." He clicked his tongue, a restrained frustration evident.
"Odd," Florence remarked. Her mind worked fast, filtering through various possibilities until one term slipped from her lips with precision.
"High-Phases Ability from Uniqueness of Concealment."
Florence named the phenomenon. Leon's reaction—a momentary freeze, his gaze turning empty yet sharp—was the silent confirmation she needed. Leon seemed to agree with the analysis, then took another, longer sip of his tea, as if wanting to wash away the fog in his memory.
"You might be right. I suspected the same. My memory of passing through that area... it feels completely shrouded in fog now." He sipped the tea again, unsettled by the strange feeling that persisted whenever he recalled the event.
"I'm curious, if this is true, what could possibly be hidden there." Florence sounded very curious, and a smile appeared on her face.
"Interesting," she noted, a spark of curiosity ignited in her mind regarding the area.
Leon, seeing that smile, knew exactly what Florence would do if he didn't warn her.
"Flo, be careful not to dig too deep into this. I don't want anything to happen to you," he said, looking worried because he knew what Florence would do if he didn't remind her of the danger of such knowledge.
"I know, Leon. Don't worry. I'm just fascinated by the way this world works... it's all so intriguing," she said, offering a strange yet beautiful smile toward Leon. Leon fell silent. He chose to sip his tea again, trying to lock his gaze on the teacup.
"Can you stop smiling like that? It's terrifying," Leon joked, his expression remaining flat. He looked away toward the window, letting his gaze wander to the street outside.
Florence observed Leon's awkwardness. Instead of being offended, she raised her right hand, resting her chin on the back of her hand, her smile still lingering on her face.
"So, what about the case you wanted to discuss earlier?" she asked again.
"Ahem, right. The case. Of course." Leon straightened his posture, pulling a small, neatly folded note from his pocket. He avoided Florence's gaze, which was still locked on him, preferring to focus on the ink strokes on the paper rather than allowing himself to be trapped in the atmosphere.
"Um, well," his eyes widened slightly as he read it, as if he couldn't believe the contents of the paper he had pulled out. Nonetheless, he appeared calm.
"Hmm?" Florence made a sound as if she were eagerly awaiting what Leon would say.
"Usually, this is a standard Vessel collapse case," Leon began, his voice trying to sound flat, very clinical, and professional.
"But there is something unique about the first incident this September," he continued, purposely not looking at Florence, his eyes continuing to look at the paper as if he were truly reading it.
Florence smirked, because she knew Leon was a person who was very memorable and detailed about his work; he always remembered the details in his investigations. Therefore, what happened in the eastern continent and Leon reading the paper was very strange. Here, Florence, who knew her old friend's nature, opened her Wireframe of Truth vision to look into the paper's contents without Leon's knowledge.
"We found black pepper..," continued Leon, his eyes still fixed on the paper, unaware that Florence was viewing the truth present on the page.
Knowing and reading the paper, Florence looked like she was holding back laughter. She couldn't believe that Leon was pretending to read a paper that contained a shopping list written by his grandmother. Florence closed her eyes because this unique moment was very funny to her.
"...which might be the trigger for this Vessel collapse," he said. He then folded the paper back up and began to store it again in his trouser pocket. He then started to look back at Florence's face, which seemed to be grinning with that smile of hers.
"Why are you smiling like that? Is there something wrong with my face, or are you just laughing at me?" he asked, appearing confused by Florence's attitude.
"Oh Leon, you're such a funny guy," Florence revealed with a chuckle. Her small laughter was contagious, reaching the corners of her eyes which were now curving warmly. She leaned forward slightly, several strands of honey-blonde hair escaping from her bun, framing her face softly.
"What? Flo, you're acting unusual," Leon appeared even more confused.
"Nothing... did this happen this morning?" answered Florence, who still appeared to be smiling without answering Leon's confusion. Florence already knew where this conversation was heading and who was involved.
"That's exactly right. Have you heard about this event?" he answered. He now began to appear truly focused on the discussion.
"Yup, from Lucien, and maybe he is also related to this incident." Instantly, the smile on Florence's face also began to fade. She sipped her tea, enjoying the silence that enveloped the room.
"Lucien?" Leon repeated, his voice a little lower, blending disbelief with what Florence had just said.
"Of course he didn't have any intention of doing anything that could cause someone to experience a Vessel collapse, Leon." Florence placed her cup slowly onto the saucer.
"From what I've heard from him, he was defending himself. He indeed used that black pepper initially as a trick to escape, but it seems the person hit by the pepper was a user of Flesh Uniqueness, who used Healing instantly—which is prohibited for Phase One... is it true that he is Phase One?" she continued, looking at Leon with a calm gaze while the room returned to silence, leaving only the small sound of ticking from the grandfather clock.
Leon fell silent for a moment. He sighed long and deep, a gesture of exhaustion from a man who had already seen too much chaos that day.
"Yes, according to the data, he is indeed in Phase One," Leon finally answered. He leaned forward, looking deeply at Florence, trying to find a gap behind the woman's calmness.
"I have checked it myself with my ability, he is not lying. He escaped immediately after tricking them and did not know the final reaction that occurred to that Flesh user." Florence sipped her tea again, closing her eyes once more, letting the hot steam pass over her face.
"Okay..." Leon stopped for a moment, his eyes looking toward the stairs.
"...is he in his room? I want to meet him," he asked. His voice sounded flat, but there was a faint hint of worry in the corner of his eyes.
"Yes, he is upstairs, in his room," she answered softly. She placed her teacup back on the saucer, then looked at Leon with an uncertain gaze.
"He is still unconscious since his first advancement ritual," Her voice lowered slightly, and anxiety seemed to begin gnawing at her again as she thought about this matter.
Leon fell silent. His eyebrows furrowed, his flat expression now tainted by the anxiety that Florence felt.
"How is this possible? What really happened during the advancement?" he asked, his voice softer, almost like a whisper.
Florence looked at her cup, but her gaze wandered far beyond the thin ceramic. She let out a long sigh, a breath that sounded like a burden held in her chest for hours.
"Before starting the ritual, he had a nightmare; his dream was very unusual compared to people who have gone through the first advancement in Uniqueness of Light," she answered with a hoarse voice that was barely audible.
"You know that usually, everyone who does an advancement indeed feels anxious, so when they're asleep, their spirit feels a resonance that, hypothetically, from the future begins to approach their body..." continued Florence, now looking straight into Leon's eyes with a gaze full of concern.
"I remember my first advancement, and some data I've read about reports of people who did the advancement... they all indeed dreamed of different things, but the meaning of these dreams was the same, which is that they were like opening a passage within that dream. Just like my dream and yours, right?" She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering again what Lucien had gone through.
Leon frowned, waiting for further explanation.
"But this is different, Leon," Her voice trembled slightly as she tried to arrange words that were difficult to explain. Suddenly, she stopped. Her breath caught in her throat. Florence covered her mouth with one trembling hand, trying to hold back the sobbing that was beginning to push its way out. Her round glasses slid slightly, hiding part of her face which was now wet with tears she could no longer hold back.
Leon, who was usually stiff, appeared stunned. He did not push, nor did he ask for an answer. Instead, he reached out his hand, touching the back of Florence's hand gently—a simple gesture that demanded calmness in the midst of the woman's emotional storm.
"He... he is just a poor child, Leon," Florence sobbed softly, her voice hoarse and desperate.
"He is the only family I have left. I... I can't bear to tell you." Florence bowed her head, her tears falling onto the wooden table between them. She closed her eyes tightly. For her, telling it meant letting that trauma become real again, and she didn't want to remember the bad things that had happened to Lucien.
"I can't, Leon," she continued, this time calmer though still with a trembling voice.
Leon sighed long and deep, his gaze soft, completely losing the impression of a cold inspector. He pulled his chair a little closer, providing a sense of safety through his presence. He let the silence envelop them—a silence that did not feel awkward, but rather a form of protection.
"Don't say anything more," Leon's voice broke the silence, soft but carrying a calming authority.
"I already understand enough without having to hear the details. It's okay, Flo, thank you," said Leon softly. He inserted a note of calmness into his voice; the hand that had been touching the back of Florence's hand now moved to pat her shoulder once, a sincere gesture of protection between the two of them.
"Forgive me, Leon. I just... I'm just tired from this whole day." Florence lifted her face, wiping the remaining tears from the corners of her eyes with her fingertips. Her breathing began to regulate though it still felt heavy.
"You don't need to apologize to me," Leon replied, then he pulled his hand back and leaned back, giving Florence space to compose herself.
Florence took a long breath. Her fingers, which had been trembling, now slowly returned to stability, touching the edge of her cup and porcelain which still left a little warmth from the Earl Grey tea, then drank it to calm herself.
"Thank you, Leon," she said softly, her voice now clear again though still leaving a rasp from the remnants of her crying.
Leon nodded. He looked at Florence with a flat face but one that held warmth. He let the woman be calm, merging with the silence and the enjoyment of the Earl Grey tea.
After a few moments, Florence took a long breath, as if discarding the remnants of the sobs held in her chest. She placed the porcelain cup back on the saucer, its soft clinking breaking the silence of the room. Her slender fingers adjusted her round glasses, then she tidied up the long, dull cream-colored coat she was wearing. The clothes that always seemed to fit her slender frame now looked slightly rumpled.
Leon only observed from his seat. His sharp yet gentle eyes locked onto Florence's gaze, letting the woman have a moment to return to being herself before she had to face the reality outside the door of this house again.
Leon did not let the silence linger for too long. He stood up and took a long breath.
"I must return to the office, Flo. I will write the report, and don't worry, he will be fine," he said softly, his voice now returning to the tone of a measured but still gentle inspector. Leon walked toward the door, reaching for his coat and hat on the clothes hanger, putting them on and ready to face the cold of the outside world again. He turned his head, looking at Florence's figure who was still sitting calmly in that chair.
"And Flo... we need to eat something decent after this long day. How about we have dinner? It doesn't have to be tomorrow. But... whenever you are ready to come out of this house," he suggested softly. His gaze lingered for a moment on Florence—a little deeper and warmer, an honesty he knew Florence realized, yet he let it hang in the air.
Florence fell silent for a moment, then gave a small smile that was far more sincere than before. Leon then turned his body. He was about to touch the handle of the wooden door, but Florence interrupted him.
"Chronos," Florence mentioned.
Leon turned back toward Florence, his eyebrows raised as he looked at the woman. Florence smiled beautifully, her smile emitting a radiance that warmed the coldness. Leon was silent for a moment. He knew Florence read him very well. He did not avert his gaze. Behind the cold and distant inspector's attitude, Leon allowed a small sincerity to seep to the surface, implied through the way his eyes looked at Florence.
Leon turned his face away, and his right hand opened the brass handle of the house.
The wooden door creaked softly before shutting tight, cutting off the flow of the scent of Earl Grey tea and the remaining warmth from inside the house. Leon stood for a moment on the damp porch, letting the cold Columbus air that pierced through to his black coat creep inside.
"Day of Chronos," Leon muttered softly, repeating the word as if he were locking a promise.
A thin curve slowly appeared on his lips. Under the hazy afternoon sky, Leon bowed his head and reached for the brim of his tall black hat. He pulled the brim of the hat slightly down to the front, letting its sturdy structure cast a shadow that hid his facial expression from the outside world. He cleared his throat once, pretending to adjust the position of the hat from the gust of the damp afternoon wind.
With fingers still holding the brim of his hat, as if he were locking a small secret there, Leon turned his body and stepped down toward the Old Quarter street. The cold and thick afternoon air suddenly no longer felt so piercing, defeated by the faint warmth he now carried away behind the arrogance of his hat that he intentionally tilted.