I’m an Immigration Officer!

After leaving the restaurant, we walked back in a silence so awkward you could cut it with a knife.
Finally, we arrived at the house.
The moment we reached the front door, Erzena—whose lips had been tightly shut all the way—finally spoke.

“T-Today’s dinner was… really nice.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Let’s go again sometime.”
“Okay.”
She quickly slipped off her shoes, ears burning red.
“W-Well then… I’m tired, so… see you tomorrow. …Nathan.”

And before she’d even finished the sentence, she bolted up the stairs.
I guess calling someone by name so casually takes more guts than you'd expect.
But I still had something I needed to give her.

“Ah, just a moment, Erzena.”
At my voice, she froze mid-step, just as she was about to dart up the stairs.
“I think now’s the perfect time to give you that thing I mentioned the other day.”

“…?”
She turned to look at me, puzzled.
“Just wait right here.”

Leaving her behind, I headed down into the basement.
—Thud. Crack. Slam!
After a few loud crashes, I returned about three minutes later, something in my hands.

Cough! “Way dustier than I expected—I almost couldn’t find it.”
Her eyes landed on what I was carrying—and widened in surprise.
“A… guitar?”

That’s right. A guitar.
“Mm. It’s a far cry from the high-end instruments you used to play, Erzena, but this one’s still pretty decent.”
I said it with something close to pride.
“Technically, it wasn’t mine originally—it belonged to my grandfather. I inherited it from him.”

I gave the guitar a few quick swipes to shake off the dust, then held it out to her.
“Use it while you’re staying here. It’ll help with the quiet.”
She’d come to my house without any real luggage.

The only things she had were basic necessities and a change of ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) clothes she’d hastily picked up at the market.
“Not being able to enjoy even a small hobby or distraction—that’s pretty much hell.”
I wouldn’t care—I barely had time to breathe. But she was different.

Even though she’d be coming into the office starting today, just leaving her to sit around with nothing to do wouldn’t be right.
She’d be staying for two months, after all. She’d need something for leisure.
And, sure enough, her golden eyes lit up with delight.

“Wow… I was actually curious about the guitar you mentioned, Nath—uh, Nathan.”
She took it right away and trotted over to the sofa.
So much for being tired—her excitement replaced it completely, and she was humming in anticipation.

“Let’s see here…”
—Plink.
She plucked a string with her finger—and an absolutely horrid sound rang out.

“…”
“…”
Silence.

“I-I’ll just tune it real quick.”
“I’ll do it.”
She began adjusting the tension with practiced ease.

And before long—
—Diriring.
A sweet tone flowed out of the now-tuned guitar.

“It’s a good instrument. The sound has depth.”
It wasn’t crisp. It wasn’t precise.
But maybe because it had passed through so many hands, because it had aged—there was a certain warmth to it. A resonance.

It reminded me of a younger version of myself back in the academy.
And the notes my grandfather used to play were still clinging to its strings.
“If you press here… ah, there we go. It flows more naturally this way.”

Watching her happily fiddling with the guitar, I spoke quietly.
“Would you like to play something?”
“…Huh?”

She looked up, startled.
“I’ve always been curious what that ‘rock spirit’ of yours is all about.”
I’d only heard rumors.

That when she stepped onto the stage, she completely transformed.
I was curious—what face would she wear when she sang?
So far, I’d only seen two sides of her: the zealot and the holy woman.

But when she sings… what would she look like then?
My curiosity flared.
“Ah—no, I mean… that’s a bit sudden—”

“No pressure.”
I sat down slowly on the sofa.
“Just think of it as your landlord asking a small favor.”

In other words: please just do it.
Erzena narrowed her eyes at me.
“…That just made the pressure five times worse.”

The exchange brought a soft, playful ease to the air.
“Ahem, ahem!”
She cleared her throat.

“Then… just one song. I’ll give it a try.”
I smiled and nodded.
“It would be an honor.”

 
****
‘What should I play?’

Erzena fell into serious thought.
To be honest, she hadn’t meant to perform anything.
She’d just been excited to see an instrument again after so long—that was all.

But seeing those black eyes staring at her with such hopeful curiosity… there was no way she could say no.
He even thanked me, and the dinner was genuinely nice…
His sincere words were still smoldering gently in her heart.

Maybe that’s why—she wanted to play a song Nathan might actually like.
She remembered something he’d once said, through the window.
That he didn’t rely on God.

Then hymns probably wouldn’t be his thing.
She tried to recall the songs she’d performed before.
Kill the Unbelievers, Barefoot Through the Thorns, Four-Hour Nonstop Praise Medley…

Yikes.
What the hell was I thinking when I sang those?
Her face flushed with embarrassment.

She shook her head hard, trying to scatter the thought.
Then it came to her—a song she’d loved as a child.
A song she used to sing quietly, lying in bed, after a hard day in the convent.

“When the Long Day Ends.”
Let’s go with that.
She took a deep breath, then began.

“When the long day ends, a short night comes to greet us…”
Her voice rang out, soft and tender.
“The faces that laughed and cried fade away, and with worryless expressions, we look up at the starlight…”

Nathan closed his eyes, occasionally nodding.
Tapping his toes against the floor to the rhythm—his way of keeping time.
Seeing that, Erzena smiled to herself.

“He’s got rhythm.”
Erzena let the melody soften further, her voice growing more tender as the song continued.
The warmth of the fireplace and a subtle golden aura began to wrap around Nathan’s form—so quietly, so delicately that he didn’t even notice.

Like a blanket—gentle, seamless, enveloping.
Nathan’s breathing slowly evened out.
And then… its rhythm began to gradually slow.
“Lay down your tired body, rest your head on my lap and fall asleep…”

Still strumming the guitar, she sank into thought.
If only this song didn’t end.
If only this pitiful man could just fall asleep like this.
If only this moment could last a little longer.
“Don’t open your eyes again. I don’t want you to see me watching you…”

For the first time, she wasn’t singing toward God.
Not with a voice strained in reverence or fervor—but like a lullaby.
For this man, so upright yet so brittle he seemed like he’d snap if you so much as tapped him.

—Shff.
Nathan’s head drooped. His arms, once crossed, loosened.
“Mmh…”

His expression relaxed at last.
The face that had carried exhaustion and worry melted away into something peaceful—childlike, even, as he slipped into deep sleep.
A soft smile touched Erzena’s lips.

Right now, in this moment, she was purely happy.
The fire danced with divine energy, and even the insects outside the window seemed to quiet themselves, listening to her song.
And so, as the night deepened, one woman sang for one man alone.

 
****
The next morning, Immigration Office.

“Good morning, everyone!”
Feeling fresher than I had in weeks, I greeted them energetically.
“Good morning!”

Erzena followed right behind me, her expression just as light.
“Good morning, Chief Inspector! Good morning, Miss Erzena!”
“Border without exceptions!”

“I slept so well last night!”
Their lively greetings came flying back all at once.
A rare sight at the Immigration Office.

So this is why people are so obsessed with leaving work on time.
Of course, there were exceptions.
“Why did I pick scissors… why am I the only one who got home late…”

One pitiful soul still hadn’t escaped yesterday’s trauma.
“Now, now, Olfactory Inspector. Next time, pick rock instead.”
Grrr…

He growled and glared at me like he wanted to kill me.
It was just then—
—Flap, flap!

The sound of strong wings beating filled the air.
“Hello! Royal Post Service~!”
With a bright voice, a young woman in light gear flew into the office.

But something about her stood out.
She had no arms.
In their place were two large white wings.

“…A harpy.”
A humanoid bird-woman.
The Royal Post was obsessed with speed, so all of its couriers were harpies.

Not bound by road conditions and able to fly through the skies, they were perfect for the job.
To prove it, a medal bearing a bird talon crest hung from her neck.
The official insignia of the Royal Postal Service.

She began reading the delivery list aloud:
“Let’s see… Nathan Kell? Is there a Nathan Kell here?”
“Right here.”

With a beat of her wings, she shot straight to me in an instant.
—Thud.
A heavy sound as her talons dropped what she was holding onto my desk.

“Please sign for these. And sign for the delivery you missed last time, too!”
There were official documents from the Foreign Ministry, and a thick encrypted tome from Intelligence.
And on top of that—a bundle of documents sealed with a snake emblem.

That must be the material Director of Intelligence mentioned—about the Evil God Cult.
No doubt about it.
“Yes, everything’s in order. Now… wait a second—”

Just then, I noticed something else.
A luxurious red envelope.
I recognized it instantly.

The exact same color and design as the letter from last time.
The moment I saw it, a chill ran down my spine.
“P-Please wait just a second.”

“Huh? I’m in a hurry! I’ve still gotta deliver to the Frontier March!”
I grabbed her before she could bolt.
“Th-This letter. Who sent it?”

Please.
Please let me be wrong.
Let it not be from that person.

The harpy’s eyes followed mine to the envelope.
“Uhh… this…”
She hesitated for a moment—then suddenly stood at attention and lifted her head stiffly.

“The Royal Post Service does not disclose any information regarding the sender!”
She began reciting the official policy in a rigid, mechanical voice.
“M-Miss Postlady? What are you—”

“The Royal Post Service does not disclose any information regarding the sender!”
Harpies freeze up under extreme stress or when executing high-level protocols.
Like a machine locking down.

Which could only mean…
Whoever sent this letter had authority beyond question—beyond defiance.
And I knew.

…Shit.
This letter was from the princess.