Cassandra followed my gaze to the now-empty staircase and nodded. "Yep, that's him. The colleague I told you about." She sighed dramatically. "As you can see... he's not exactly the social type."
"That's putting it mildly," one of the twins—Mira or Lira—chimed in, twirling a red braid around her finger. "We spent a whole year just to get him to stop hiding every time we walked into the room."
"And another six months before he'd say more than three words at a time," the other twin added, shaking her head.
I studied the empty staircase, reassessing.
Then, this wasn't just ordinary shyness—it was the kind of deeply ingrained social anxiety that came from either trauma or extreme introversion. The type where eye contact felt like an invasion and casual conversation required mental preparation.
And women, especially assertive and extrovert ones like Cassandra and the twins, would naturally put him on edge—too much intensity, too much expectation.
Whatever the case, his reaction suggested more than just simple nervousness.
Well, at least that explained why he'd bolted. But since we're both men, breaking the ice should be easier. Right?
First things first - I needed to know what to call the guy. Turning to Cassandra, I asked directly: "What's his name?"
Her grin turned downright mischievous. "Why don't you find out yourself? You'll be working together anyway."
I stared at her. Of course she'd make this difficult.
"...Fine." I exhaled sharply, rolling my shoulders. "I'm off to my office, then. Don't disturb me."
The moment the words left my mouth, the twins burst into giggles, and even Cassandra muffled a laugh behind her hand. Their expressions practically screamed, We all know who the real boss here is—and it's not you.
While Princess Sara piped up hesitantly, "Maybe I could help? He might feel more comfortable if—"
"No." Lannete's refusal was immediate.
"Yeah, let's not traumatize the poor guy further," Cassandra added, waving a hand. "One person at a time is enough for him."
I gave a firm nod of agreement.
Yeah, you should just stay with them, Princess.
The last thing we needed was to overwhelm the guy with royalty on top of everything else.
Even I find it difficult sometimes.
Leaving them to their chatter, I ascended to the third floor where my modest office sat adjacent to the warehouse - though "warehouse" was too generous a term. In reality, it served as our information archive, a carefully organized repository of records and intelligence.
Bypassing my actual office, I went straight for the archive room and pushed open the door...
The archive room, which had been nearly empty the first I saw, now held orderly shelves occupying about one-tenth of the space, neatly stacked with papers and documents.
The shy young man sat hunched over a table beneath the room's small window, scribbling notes with intense concentration. The blue bird perched on his shoulder chirped quiet, melodic notes into his ear, as if giving commentary on his work.
I paused in the doorway, observing the scene while running through social strategies:
1. No sudden movements or direct questions - that would startle him like a frightened deer.
2. Find common ground through his interests - currently, that bird, his work and maybe whatever he's writing.
3. Acknowledge but don't emphasize his shyness - treat him normally without being oblivious.
4. Give him an "out" - make sure he doesn't feel trapped in the conversation.
5. Let him set the pace - allow pauses without rushing to fill the silence.
Casually, I moved to the nearest shelf and began examining documents, gradually working my way closer to his table. The wooden floor creaked slightly under my steps, but I kept my movements deliberate and unhurried.
Let him get used to my presence first.
The bird noticed me first, tilting its head with a curious "peep." The young man's pen froze mid-sentence as he slowly lifted his gaze, shoulders tensing slightly when he registered my presence.
"Morning," I said without looking up from the file in my hands, keeping my tone casual. "That's a smart-looking bird you've got there."
A safe opening - people always like talking about their pets.
The blue bird puffed up proudly at the compliment. The young man's fingers twitched around his pen, but after a beat, he managed a barely audible "...Th-thank you."
I pretended to study the document while edging closer. "What's its name?"
"K-Kai," he murmured, eyes darting between me and his papers. The bird - Kai - chirped as if confirming.
"Kai, huh, it really suits him." I finally reached the table adjacent to his and leaned against it, still giving him plenty of personal space. "I'm guessing you two are friends?"
The young man looked up in surprise at my question, his tense shoulders relaxing slightly. "Y-yeah," he murmured, his fingers gently stroking the bird's feathers. "Kai is... my only friend. He's always with me." A faint, vulnerable smile touched his lips as the blue bird nuzzled against his cheek. "When... when no one else would talk to me, Kai stayed. He listens... understands..."
Just as I thought - for someone with such extreme social anxiety, an animal companion would naturally become their closest confidant. Children who struggled to connect with people often poured all their affection into pets, and it seemed this young man was no different.
After all they never judge or expect you to be someone you aren't.
"You must be happy," I said with a genuine smile. "To have a friend like Kai. He looks really smart - his intelligence must be high." I tilted my head curiously. "Ah right, can you understand Kai's language?"
"Umm... I..." The young man's fingers tightened around his pen, his earlier tension returning.
Noticing his discomfort, I quickly backtracked. "Ah sorry, I just thought you guys could talk with each other, considering how well you understand each other."
To my surprise, a small but bright smile lit up the young man's face - the first proper expression I'd seen from him - transforming his previously nervous features into something unexpectedly handsome. "We... do talk. In our way."
As if to prove his point, Kai chirped a rapid series of notes at me, puffing out his blue chest proudly.
I couldn't help but chuckle. "See? Even I can understand that without knowing bird language. 'Yes we're friends,' or 'Yes, we can talk with each other' right?"
The bird nodded enthusiastically, bobbing its head up and down.
"This little guy isn't normal, is he? He's really amazing you know. He must be a rare species." Leaning back slightly, I shrugged. "But that's good too. Makes your bond even more special."
"He's... a Moonlight Songbird," the young man said softly, his fingers gently tracing Kai's iridescent blue feathers. "They're... very rare in this region. Only found in the Emerald Peaks to the east."
"Oh?" I leaned forward slightly, genuinely intrigued. "I've never heard of that species before." And I meant it - in all my studies or almost nonexist memories, I'd never come across mention of such a bird. "Could you tell me more about him?"
The young man nodded eagerly, his earlier shyness momentarily forgotten in his enthusiasm. "Kai's memory is... incredible. He can remember every book's location just by seeing the cover once. And his song... when he sings at night, it..."
Just as he was gaining momentum, the archive door burst open. One of the twins - Lira, judging by the slightly longer braid - stood gaping at us. "Manager! Boss is calling—" Her eyes widened comically as she took in the scene. "Y-You're actually talking?! To him?!"
...Just when things were going well.
I nearly facepalmed myself.
Meanwhile, like a startled rabbit, the young man immediately hunched back over his papers, his brief moment of openness vanishing. Kai flapped his wings in clear annoyance, letting out a sharp chirp that sounded suspiciously like a scolding.
I shot Lira my most withering glare, silently communicating how spectacularly she'd just ruined the moment.
She at least had the decency to look sheepish.
Turning back to the now-withdrawn young man, I kept my voice low and even. "We'll continue this later. I'd really like to hear more about Kai when you have time."
There was the barest hint of a nod from the bowed head as I followed Lira out, making a mental note to find out the young man's name in our next conversation.
As we descended the stairs, Lira kept glancing back at me with undisguised curiosity. "How did you get him to talk like that? It took us months just to get him to say 'g-good morning'!"
I shrugged, though I couldn't help feeling a small spark of pride.
"Maybe he just needed someone who didn't come on too strong."
The unspoken 'unlike you lot' hung in the air between us.
Lira pouted but didn't argue as we reached the shop's main floor, where Cassandra amd others waited. But, whatever crisis she'd summoned me for would have to wait - my mind was already planning how to rebuild that fragile connection upstairs.
After all, if this shy archivist and his remarkable Moonlight Songbird were now my colleagues, I had a feeling understanding them would be key to survive the upcoming events and scenarios.