I am a butterfly,
What did they expect from him? He'd put what he could in the report. He certainly couldn't tell them about the Dressing Room. (Was it wrong to miss it, just a little? For all his complaining, it had been interesting.) Granted, he could have come up with a better story -- well, not at that moment, but if given a little time... He'd still been reeling from the return, after all.
They didn't doubt he'd been in a battle. They doubted that he didn't remember a thing.
When pressed for details, he'd described Cyril, but held firm on his insistence that the time between the start of the fight and waking up was one long blank. Of course it sounded suspicious. If his head had been on straight, he could have come up with even just a joking answer better than that. Damn the need for consistency.
Damn his newer scars, as well. At least he could beg off most as having been there before, or being caused by the last fight. (For once, Cyril was good for something, even just as an excuse. No one questioned his damaged Innocence; in fact, he was "lucky" to have gotten off with the little damage he had. Fixing it had been quick.) His ruined coat was replaced without comment.
It was his good luck that there were other matters keeping the spotlight off of him. It just happened to be the Cheating Boy's bad luck. He couldn't guess with any certainty what anyone from Central was doing at Headquarters, or what they wanted with the Allen Walker. Something important had happened on the Ark. If the stories he'd heard about other worlds could ever apply to this world, then... Put simply, he didn't envy the boy at all.
Now, if only he could keep avoiding the head nurse...
... An alarm? Had that ever happened here before?