Chapter 22
Afew months of this routine still didn’t feel normal. I was eyeing the beautiful distraction every day at my church, waiting to return to the parish at night and learn more about her. It was becoming an addiction. One I should have known better than to let myself fall into.
I couldn’t help it.
She was so interesting and graceful. Each night back at the townhome, I would learn something new. She had a nervous habit of randomly blurting facts she knew, like a cute little encyclopedia. Last night we were watching a romantic comedy in Japanese.
I couldn’t follow any of it, but it made me focus more on what was going on. I connected the emotions to words and gauged Sayuri’s response. She looked like a child with a big grin on her face, snuggled into my arm, and fed me sweet popping candy.
The couple on the screen was in each other’s arms like we were, tears running down their face and rain pouring onto their heads in the street.
“What are they saying, Mortifera?” I couldn’t help but ask.
I had gotten used to her griping at me for interrupting, but this time she looked at me and smiled.
“They said that there is no greater pain than to be without the one they love. The female is telling him that she will not leave despite the consequences of him being hurt if she stays because she needs the man, and she has to be selfish.”
I looked at the couple again and watched how the actors portrayed such devotion and love.
“And what did he say back?”
“He said that there is no sun without her, and he would rather live every day in the dark as long as he has her in his arms.”
Japan was famous for its sayings. I had heard many over the time Sayuri was here with me, but my favorite was Suki wa kotoba ni sezu tomo tsutawaru—“Love is conveyed even without words.”
“Did you know that there is a species of jellyfish that is biologically immortal? It can choose whether to die or revert its cells back to a younger state after aging or injury…it’s like they get a redo button…forever able to make different choices.”
It felt like a storage of information. She knew so much, yet everything she said was facts about something else, anything but her own life.
I knew she was born in Japan and that her mother was dead, but anytime I tried to get to the heart of her life, she shut down and mumbled those damn random facts, getting into tangents that lasted past the expiration date to keep asking about her.
She was smart.
She knew what she was doing.
Now, I was back in the church, taking over the children’s corner until mass started. I used to think children were the purest thing God ever made. That was before I learned how easily the innocent could be taught hatred.
Elias had his tongue out in concentration as he stacked wooden blocks higher than they had any business being stacked.
Decan kept knocking them over on purpose, and Maria kept smacking Decan’s arm. “Stop it, you idiot.”
She was seven years old and already exhausted by men.
Ramona’s daughter was with us today, and I tried to avoid her gaze as if she knew that months ago I’d puked on her mother.
Elias diverted from his blocks and snatched a note she threw at him and grimaced.
Curiosity had me by the neck, and I couldn’t resist walking over discreetly to peek at the discarded note when they were all occupied.
It read:
“You are so cute, Elias Cross. Can I be your girlfriend?”
I tried not to laugh, remembering Elias’s face at the girl’s affection. Poor kid was cursed with his dad’s good looks and apparently his charm as well.
I sat cross-legged on the worn carpet in the children’s room, my sleeves rolled up just enough to feel like a normal man and not pretending to be a priest. The kids never commented on my ink. They didn’t know its true meaning.
“You knock that over again,” Elias told Decan mildly. “And I’m gonna stack the next tower on your bald little head, dude.”
Maria snickered at her brother and walked behind him, taking the honor in pushing the tower to the ground.
Elias groaned in defeat and rolled his eyes. “Fine. It all comes crashing down in the end. I’m done trying to build something beautiful.”
Damn. Heavy words for an eight-year-old.
“It gets easier, buddy,” I said softly.
Elias always seemed older than he was. He was estute and articulate. He blinked at me.
“You mean it?”
“I do, son. Sometimes we have to learn to adjust, but nothing is truly hopeless if we don’t give up.”
Elias studied my eyes for a moment and then walked over to the corner with a handful of blocks. Sure enough, Decan crawled over, ready for mass destruction, but Elias smiled at him, leaning down and whispering something in his ear before handing him a block he wasn’t using.
I thought he told him he could help him make his own, but then Decan was toddling over to me, smiling a bit too sweetly.
“Can I assist you, Decan?”
“My mommy said you are a kitty.”
I frowned. “A kitty?”
Why would Gloria call me a kitty? While pondering this, Decan took the gifted block and whacked my shin for a direct hit.
“Ow! That was very rude, Decan.”
Elias smiled with satisfaction in the corner, his tower finally complete and left alone.
Ah, I get it. He sacrificed me for the success of his land.
Touche, kid, touche.
I scooped up Decan and brought him to the child’s playpen. “You did the crime. You now do your time.”
He sighed like I’d sentenced him to life in prison and plopped down, content with chucking soft toys at Maria and the other little’s heads.
Behind the half wall that separated the play area from the main hall, I heard the faint swish of a mop, and my heart leaped in my chest.
I didn’t need to look to know it was her.
Sayuri moved quietly, as if she were afraid of disturbing something sacred. Or maybe she just liked pretending she was invisible. She often did this outside the parish when it was just the two of us. She wore her own mask when the clothes of the acolyte were donned.
I did look, though. I had to see her beauty.
I always looked when I had the chance.
She was wiping down the pew ends, her sleeves pushed up, and her dark hair pinned neatly at the nape of her neck. She didn’t turn toward me immediately.
Her eyes flicked up and locked with mine.
Just for a second, the most radiant smile brightened her face, and even for that fraction of a second, I felt my whole world grow warmer.
One of the partitioners walked forward in front of us she looked away.
Just like that, my body felt colder without her. She had become this strange, tangible tether. Without some form of contact, it was like I was floating until she came back. Without her, I didn’t think I'd ever be able to feel the ground again, doomed to float in a spiritual space of nothingness.
Why? What is this feeling?
It was like she set my chest on fire, brighter and hotter than any flame I tried to use on myself.
Ever since she had been in my parish, I hadn’t burned myself.
I told myself it was because she would know, find a way to unveil my secret, and then everything else that was hidden would bleed into our lives, but I knew it was because of her.
I didn’t feel like I needed to hurt myself. She made me feel redeemable.
She…saved me.
I cleared my throat and looked back at Decan and Maria warring over toys, giving her a sheepish smile.
“I…need to get back, Mortifera,” I said. And she smiled at me before walking away.
“You two are like angels and demons with your bickering,” I muttered.
“Am not,” Decan whined. “She started it.”
“I so did not!” Maria squawked, creating a loud acrophony of arguing.
Shit.
I looked at Elias for some guidance, but he avoided my gaze, continuing his master build.
“Alright, enough of that. Go back to the blocks, please.”
The two of them harrumphed and separated as I sat down to build my own small tower.
“Father,” Maria said sweetly. “You bad at building things.”
“Maria Cross,” I said. “I built this entire church.”
She stared at me.
“You did?”
“No.”
Decan chucked another toy from his confinement and knocked my tower over.
“Bullseye!”
I let out a slow breath through my nose.
“Would you like help, Decan?” Sayuri’s soft voice floated in from the hall.
He perked up, completely smitten. “Yes, Ms. Ayakashi!”
I didn’t look at her this time. If I did, I’d forget how to breathe again.
Sayuri was amazing with the children, and I sighed in relief when she brought order to the chaos. Gloria returned shortly after, and instead of scolding Sayuri for leaving her duties, she laughed.
“Has my little angel required some additional forces, Father?”
I rubbed my temples. “Something like that.”
Later on, the front doors opened with a hollow echo. I recognized the cadence of their footsteps before I saw them.
Exchanging one headache for another. Greaaaaat.
Miranda walked in first, but something was off.
Her blonde hair, which she usually took great care to make shiny and neat, was dim and frizzy. Her usual elegance and poise were not polished at all.
Jack followed behind her, his meaty hand firm around Ronan’s shoulder.
Ronan’s eyes lit up when he saw the children’s playroom down the long hall and the kids in it.
“Father! Can I—”
“Yes,” I started. “ Of course, Elias and Maria are there t—”
“No,” Jack cut in sharply.
The boy froze, his smile fading so fast it made my chest ache.
Jack crouched down, his smile tight and mean. “We only play with our kind, son. Not these people who think they do no wrong.”
Silence.
Elias stared from the room, his eyes curious as he studied Ronan.
“Jack,” I said carefully. “All children are welcome here. Why not let Ronan have some fun?”
Jack’s jaw tightened, and he yanked Ronan back further. “We. Don’t. Mix.”
Miranda laughed softly, catching me off guard. “Oh, Father. Don’t look so wounded. He’s just protective. Such a good papa.”
Protective, my ass.
That wasn’t protection. He was punishing Ronan because of me. This was poison wielded to disarm both opponents without wasting another drop.