Chapter 30
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 30
Chapter Title: Sin - 3
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"Luca! What are you doing in a place like this?"
Back when we were kids, I acted so brazenly. Especially after enrolling in the academy as a genius mage, I grew into an even more spoiled girl amid the flood of praise from everyone around me. Even though, deep down, I knew better than anyone that it wasn't true.
"...I'm in a bad mood, so get lost."
When I acted up, nine times out of ten, people just indulged me. But Luca was the one exception. I knew that, yet I kept picking at him, nagging away. Maybe it was because I liked him that I threw these petty tantrums.
"Why? Got some worries? I can fix it all for you. Spill it."
"No thanks."
"I'm telling you to tell me. It's probably nothing big anyway..."
"I said I don't need it."
When I crossed the line, Luca would hold back his anger and snap back with that sharp tongue of his. I'd shrink away, unable to retort properly, fidgeting and hovering around him. If I'd just been nice from the start, none of this would've happened. I was so much dumber back then.
"Ah... yeah. Sorry. You really are upset. Still, just try telling me. I might be able to help."
In the end, that day too, I dragged every last bit of kindness out of Luca before finally backing down like a fool. And yet, the ever-patient Luca stuck with me to the bitter end.
"...I saw it."
"Saw what?"
"Eli was changing clothes at home... and like always, I just burst right in. So..."
"Uh... so you saw her naked?"
"...Yeah."
Luca answered gloomily and tossed the pebble in his hand into the river. There was a splash, and cold water sprayed up to my toes. I mulled over his words before approaching him where he sat crouched with his hands behind his back.
"And? You're hiding here because it's awkward to face her now?"
"Yeah."
"Just go apologize."
"It's not that easy."
His voice carried a depth of worry I couldn't quite grasp. But all I could see back then were the surface things, so all I had were obvious platitudes.
"It wasn't on purpose anyway. Eli understands everything about you. Just go say sorry honestly, and it'll all be fine. If you keep putting it off because it's awkward, it'll only get harder to apologize later."
"I know."
Luca picked up another pebble and threw it. Harder this time. The spray reached my ankles.
"I know."
"Then just do it."
"That's the problem. I can't."
"Why? You're such an idiot. If you can't, want me to pass it on for you? Nah, that'd be even stupider. So just go say it. 'Sorry.'"
"What if it was you?"
Luca suddenly looked up at me. Then he slowly turned back to stare straight ahead.
"...Could you do it if it was you?"
"Do what?"
Another pebble flew into the water, sending ripples across the surface that distorted the reflected world.
"If it had been some stranger's body, I might've apologized quick and gotten it over with. But it's not. It's Eli."
"What's the difference?"
"Knew you wouldn't get it."
Luca irritably chucked the last pebble. This time, water splashed up to my knees, soaking my skirt with icy chill. I couldn't help yelling in anger.
"Hey!"
"I'm going. See you later."
"You...!"
I couldn't bring myself to chase after him. I just clenched my fists and stared helplessly at his retreating back. Once he vanished over the hill, I hung my head.
"Because it's Eli... you can't."
I still didn't fully understand those words. Shouldn't someone precious understand even better? Why hesitate at all?
At least it's better than drifting apart without a word.
Those last words felt aimed at myself. I crouched down, picking up a pebble Luca had chosen by hand. It still held a faint warmth. I felt its texture against my palm and turned the question on myself.
What if it had been my naked body he'd seen instead of Eli's? Would he have reacted like this?
But that thought crumbled as soon as it formed. Because I shouldn't. I couldn't try to take Luca from Eli too.
Or we'd stop being friends.
I hugged my knees and buried my face. Cold droplets fell from my soaked skirt.
Clack, clack.
"Ah."
The door's creak shattered my daydream, yanking me back to reality. I lowered my weary eyes and knelt on the cold floor.
Why at a time like this? Why are you on my mind?
A self-mocking laugh escaped as I thought it over. Lately, I'd been dwelling more on what I'd lost. Things like a ring dropped down a sewer grate—impossible to retrieve—kept churning in my head.
Home. Eli. Luca. The rural scenery that once bored me, the scent of mint flowers. What they had in common? I'd thrown them all away myself. I held them tight in my hands, but they just felt heavy, so I let go.
I didn't know back then. Once you start letting go of what you have, your grip loosens, and everything slips away. Your hands lighten, but then parasites latch on, devouring the flesh. They weigh you down again, but your empty heart stays hollow.
Ah, why am I thinking like this again? No point brooding. Nothing changes. I shook off the emotions lingering on my face and stared ahead. Customers would come soon.
Creeeak.
Soon, the door opened, and another unfamiliar man entered the confessional. He felt stranger than any before. He shut the door before even a sliver of outside light could seep in.
Thud.
He stared at me silently after closing it. His face, obsessively shrouded, showed only gleaming white eyes. But he wasn't the first to enter hooded, so I spoke calmly, betraying no surprise.
"Hello, brother. What sin brings you here today?"
"..."
No answer. Then I noticed his priestly robes. I gave a bitter smile and bowed my head.
"...Who are you? Aren't the faithful coming today?"
"..."
"Who is it? Oneil? Hatan? Or Nadre?"
"..."
"Or maybe Bobby sent you...? No, impossible. He wouldn't care about me now."
"..."
"Not gonna say anything?"
He kept his lips sealed. But I didn't need to ask why this nameless priest was here. Obviously to claim my body.
Very rarely, no faithful come for confession. It happens, though seldom. But that doesn't mean I get to rest. On those days, priests harboring desires sneak in.
So since becoming a saint, I'd mingled with strangers daily without fail. Once, I caught a disease and lay bedridden for days. Even then, my duties didn't change. When holes were off-limits, I used hands. If unsatisfied, armpits, thighs, hair—whatever they craved to sate their lust.
Actually, one change: condoms stocked in the confessional after that. Not for me, but lest the saint's filthy hole taint their sacred bodies.
"Fine."
I let out a hollow laugh and slowly undressed. Barely wearing anything to begin with, I was naked soon enough. I neatly folded my clothes in the corner and turned to him.
"Make it quick. Plenty waiting, right?"
"..."
He heard me and stepped forward slowly. I closed my eyes and bit my lip. At least let his touch, even if rough, be warm.
But no matter how long I waited, his hands never reached me. Instead, something dropped with a thud before my eyes.
"...?"
I cracked my eyes open. A small object lay on the floor. Recognizing it instantly, I frowned and picked it up.
"What is this?"
"..."
"You want me to put it on myself?"
I stared at him, condom in hand. He shook his head silently, eyes fixed below my waist. Then it hit me.
Get myself ready first.
Our nameless priest didn't even want to bother with foreplay. Despite the lotion in the corner for such cases, he wanted me to wet myself inside. Or maybe watch the process.
Either way, humiliation surged, hands trembling. Not content with just taking my body, now treating me like a toy? But the true shame wasn't his view of me as a sex slave—it was my reality, unable to rebel. In that, this priest was cruelly clever.
"...Damn bastard."
I muttered loud enough for him to hear. He didn't flinch, just watched. Finally, meeting his gaze, I slipped the condom onto my finger.
"Fine. As you wish."
"..."
He crossed his arms, leaned against the door, and stared. Like viewing a zoo animal. Face burning with shame, I brought my finger below.
"...Ngh."
The stiff rubber against sensitive flesh drew a moan closer to pain than pleasure. I forced it, but my insides clenched tight, refusing entry.
"Ah... ugh..."
Rubbing desperately in hopes it'd slip in eventually, only tears welled up. He watched my pathetic struggle, shame mounting with time.
After a while, it struck me—this wasn't my first time touching myself. Before Bobby took my first, I'd been an innocent village girl who never masturbated. After, near-daily sex left no need or time for it.
I'd craved love from others my whole life, never learning to love myself. Even the basest way—masturbation—I couldn't do properly.
But I couldn't say no now. My pride was scraped raw, yet clung desperately at the bottom.
What to do? Amid worries, an idea hit. Imagine. Pretend it's not me, but someone loving me. Might help.
Not great, but no choice. I bowed my head. Now, who to imagine?
Bobby always came first. Real or not, I couldn't help loving him. But last seen over a year ago. Voices echoed sometimes, but no physical contact in ages—his image stirred nothing.
Who then? Leo? Rick? Or those faithful from last week? The men in my mind were all like that. Loving only my body, or needing a slave to fuck.
My life held only such trash.
...
No. There was one who wasn't.
Exactly one. A friend I couldn't forget, try as I might.
I'd stolen him selfishly, abandoned him foolishly.
Calling his name now felt brazenly vile, but the name lingered under my tongue—I couldn't ignore it.
I squeezed my eyes shut and whispered it inwardly.
Luca.
"Ah...! Ahk...!"
My unresponsive body heated suddenly; the finger plunged inside. I moaned harshly, neck trembling.
Luca.
"Hah... hngh...!"
Calling again, his face sharpened in my mind. Strange. Years parted, yet so vivid, tangible.
"Ah... ahk..."
The more I moved, the clearer Luca became. No longer stone-stiff. Not blood-soaked, nor wretchedly bowed. Just Lorenheim's innocent boy from back then, clueless as ever.
"Uk... ugh...!"
Pleasure crashed like waves, crushing pain, filling me. Not enough—I pinched my nipple with the other hand. Electricity jolted; my mouth fell open naturally.
"Ah... aaang..."
Saliva dripped from my open mouth down my chin. Utterly obscene, surely. But I didn't care. Used to strangers seeing this. I focused wholly on imagined Luca.
He'd drawn near, wordless, eyes locked on me. Yes. Only me. Not Eli—me, who'd loved him as long as, or longer than, her.
"Haa... haa... ha... haaa..."
Lightly circling the nipple brought a limp sigh. Warm breath emanated from imagined Luca gazing at me.
His eyes were clear sky blue. True or not, didn't matter. Fantasy. And in this world, only I remembered Luca. Embracing him in my mind, I rubbed the deepest sensitive spot.
"Ah... aaaang...!"
Waist went slack; I collapsed. But fingers kept moving. Couldn't shake the dominating bliss.
"Ah... uh... uh..."
Squelching sounds from soaked fingers filled my ears—sounds I'd loathed. Strangely, not now.
Meanwhile, imagined Luca leaned to kiss. Of course. You love me. I held back tears and lifted my head. Soft lips met mine.
"Ah... aaaang...!"
Hot fluids gushed, trickling between thighs. Face-down, hips arched high, I compulsively thrust inside. No longer ordered—body burned uncontrollably; couldn't stop.
Soon, his deep kiss trailed down, softly grazing my neck. Ticklish yet thrilling, I couldn't hold back, lips forming your name.
"Ah... Luca..."
"..."
"Luca... Lucaaa..."
Imagination peaked; body ignited unbearably. Climax neared—I clenched eyes tighter. Luca. I'm almost there. Love me more. Touch me till the end.
"Ah... aaa... aaaang...!"
My moan turned sweetly lewd, beyond recognition. Thick fluids sprayed; I bucked wildly against my fingers. Can't hold it.
"Ah... Luca... Luca... Luca...!"
I cried your name louder. Amid white-hot pleasure, to keep your image fixed. That face loving only me—never forgotten.
At the last, I pressed the inner wall hard, mouth agape. And called your name.
"Lu..."
"Stop."
"Haaaak...!"
The stranger seized my arm, yanking the finger out. Pain and fluids erupted; hips jerked involuntarily. Eyes snapped open; Luca shattered like mist. Trembling in surging pleasure, I glared with hatred.
"Wh-what the hell are you doing!"
"..."
He gripped my wrist vise-like, staring piercingly. I opened my mouth to scream again, then froze at the odd sensation.
His face felt uncannily familiar. Distant, he'd seemed alien; up close, déjà vu unnervingly strong.
Why? A stranger, surely. Meeting his silent gaze, unreasoning fear surged. Heated skin chilled; pounding heart stilled dead.
Instinctively hunching, I whispered cautiously.
"Who... are you?"
He stared long after my words. Then, slowly pulled down the cloth veiling his face.
"......."
Black robes slid, revealing firm nose, lips, jaw. As truths emerged, I swallowed, clutching my racing heart. Body turned ice-cold, plunged in frost.
He was someone I knew all too well.
"No... way..."
Words tumbled from shock-frozen lips. My gripped wrist ached fiercely. Tears pricked amid pain, but I gazed endlessly at his face.
Your face. Endlessly.
You stared piercingly back. Only then did I realize—this was our first time locking eyes so close.
Your eyes weren't sky blue.
Your eyes were a cruel black, devouring even my last scraps of hope.