A Prickling Distance
Something was sticking out like an awl. (5)
Lately, Lenoir had been acting strange. Pinning down the timing, it started around the days when he was going back and forth to the Malik Church.
"You've gotten awfully cautious around me."
[Cautious...?]
"Yeah, you weren't like this before, but lately you're watching your words around me."
For example, when she usually caused trouble, he'd scold her with, "Wild little Sara," but these days he just said, "Pray do not do so," and left it at that. When she poked his side in a playful fit of defiance, he'd normally grab her by the nape, but now he just sighed.
"You look worried."
[My lady... always... worries...]
"Right! Always worrying!"
[Cause... Sara...]
"Huh? What're you saying?"
[Sara good...!]
It felt like she'd heard something weird, but maybe it was her imagination. She shot him a suspicious glance, but Orin just rippled lazily without a care.
Sara pouted her lips. She could overlook Orin's attitude, but Lenoir's change really gnawed at her. It was hard to put this feeling into words exactly, but if she had to describe it...
"It feels like there's some distance between us, and it bums me out."
Why was that? He was treating her just as kindly as always, scolding her just as usual, protecting her just the same—but he felt far away. That careful demeanor didn't sit right with her. She wished he'd drop the pretense like before. She wanted to feel that sense of growing closeness again day by day.
But she had no idea why Lenoir had suddenly changed, and the frustration just kept building. And that was just one worry—there was another.
"Saintess? You okay?"
It was the day she met Justina at the Malik Church. Her chest was as impressively bountiful as ever, but her complexion looked off. At first, Sara thought it was just her imagination, but now she was sure.
Justina didn't seem normal.
"Is something wrong with your body? Want me to give you a massage!?"
Sara voiced her genuine concern. She considered them friends, after all.
Justina flinched at the words. The moment Sara met her lifted gaze, she felt a strange sensation.
'Huh?'
It was eerie. For a split second, Justina didn't look like Justina at all. It was brief, but unmistakable.
"No, I've just been having trouble sleeping lately, so I haven't rested well. I'll be fine soon."
"For real?"
"...My chest feels heavy."
"Ah, um! Oh, th-that, yeah...!"
It was... convincing! Sara thought it made perfect sense. After all, with great power comes great responsibility. If that was the burden of big boobs, it was something to accept nobly.
Her eyes sparkled.
Justina spoke up.
"Anyway, I need to head out early today. I've got a schedule..."
"Oh, sure thing! My... uh, my attendant said he's leaving early today too!"
Right on cue, Lenoir appeared. Justina rose and bowed her head, while Sara stole a glance at the weighty sway of her chest before turning to Lenoir.
"See you tomorrow!"
With that, she turned away from Justina, who hurried off in quick steps.
Only then did Sara address Lenoir.
"My lord, did you finish your business?"
"Tolerably so. It seems we have found all there is to find here."
"Hmm..."
Lenoir walked ahead, matching Sara's stride without really looking her way. Sara tickled his side with her index finger. Even then, he showed no reaction.
He really was keeping his distance. Or lost in thought, maybe.
Sara's expression soured. She wanted to grab his attention somehow, and that's when Justina came to mind.
"Oh, yeah, the saintess hasn't been feeling well lately."
"Is that so."
"Yeah, she said it's 'cause her chest is heavy..."
"...Little Sara."
"No, just hear me out?"
Justina's excuse was totally believable. But separately from that, there was a twinge of unease.
"Something felt off in the saintess's eyes, like there was someone else there."
That was the moment.
Lenoir's steps halted abruptly.
Amusingly, Sara felt a rush of happiness at finally capturing his attention, like a child thrilled to have an adult's focus. With her childlike mental age, once she had an opening, she let the words pour out.
"It's been like that for a few days! Like, there was this one time..."
She rattled off everything she could recall. Afterward, Lenoir's demeanor turned profoundly serious.
"...This appears no ordinary matter."
"Right? Something's up, huh?"
"Indeed. I shall investigate."
"I did good, right!?"
"Yes, you did well."
"Then praise me!"
At that, Lenoir let out a hollow chuckle and reached out a hand. It seemed instinctive, but in the end, it didn't reach her head. It hesitated mid-air, wavering.
Sara's heart skipped a beat. Her head snapped up. Betrayal flickered in her eyes.
"Wh-why...!"
It felt like all the pent-up hurt from the past few days exploded at once. She could chalk up the growing distance to some worry he had, but this was different.
Tears suddenly prickled at the corners of her eyes. Her clenched fists trembled.
She glared at him fiercely, and Lenoir looked genuinely flustered. She could see him scrambling for an excuse.
"That's too much...! This was our rule...! Praise when it's due...! Scold when it's needed...!"
"Little Sara, 'tis not—"
"Argh!"
Thwack! Sara headbutted his solar plexus with her crown. She'd put her full force into it, but it wasn't very effective.
Of course not. Hitting a rock-hard abdomen with her soft head would only hurt her.
"Eek...!"
Clutching her head with both hands, Lenoir asked,
"Are you all right?"
"No! You're too stiff, my lord!"
"...I beg your pardon?"
"Heal me quick! Right here!"
"How...?"
"Pet it with your hand!"
If Sara had a tail, it'd be thumping the ground right now. She was that annoyed, but she couldn't say more. She just glowered at the floor sullenly.
Then, a sigh came from above, followed by a hand descending. The stroking felt good. Her heart eased, warmth filling her chest. So Sara clamped her mouth shut even tighter.
Her own feelings confused her. She wanted more attention, but not to be a bother. She couldn't be harsh with him, but she wanted him to act the way she craved anyway.
Every moment was ambivalent. Above all, there was something that encompassed those feelings.
"...You have to be good to me, my lord. I came all this way trusting you."
She didn't want Lenoir to drift away. She'd never imagined he would, so this recent distance made her chest tighten with sudden anxiety.
Sara glanced up at him. He looked quite flustered.
"Why would I ever leave you? I shall always be at your side."
It was sincere. The sincerity reassured her, but also frustrated her a little.
'How do I even say this.'
She couldn't figure out why her heart raced every time she saw Lenoir. That's why she wanted to know.
* * *
Confusing.
Somewhat. No, quite a lot.
Lenoir knew his words and actions greatly influenced Sara. That's why he'd always strived to conduct himself properly, bolstering her self-esteem so she could see herself as a goddess.
But now he questioned that choice. Should he have stopped there? Was it wrong to feel such affection for her beyond that?
What he'd done out of a desire to better her had changed him. The goddess and Sara Lorojin now sat on opposite sides of the scale. They should be one, yet they were separating—and that bred confusion.
It created hesitation in a corner of his heart.
By nature, Lenoir was one who pondered deeply whether even a righteous act was truly right. His siblings called him stubborn, and he had that rigidly principled streak.
Was treating Sara as before still proper? He weighed it every moment.
He pondered what set him apart from that nameless brother scheming to revive the goddess and cage her.
That was why he couldn't treat Sara as before.
Why he'd hesitated to stroke her head.
How should he treat her? What was right, what was pure?
Wouldn't every such gesture become a barrier to making Sara Lorojin into the goddess?
Relentless thoughts churned his mind into disarray.
For that reason, Lenoir set those feelings aside for now, out of sight.
Amusingly, he had an excuse.
Whether fortunate or not.
—Something felt off in the saintess's eyes, like there was someone else there.
Lenoir recalled Sara's words. Sensing ill omens ahead, he decided to address the immediate threat first.