Only You Possess the Qualification (2)
Several more days passed. Sara was still lying in bed. Aside from her recovery, Selbes worried it wasn't yet the right time to return to the back alleys. The gangs that had controlled the area had all become idiots. The viscount, who had once thought it easy to clear out the alleys, had suddenly begun offering aid. Regardless of whether things were improving, it was all confusing.
Selbes didn't voice it, but Sara vaguely realized something.
It's gone now. My place to return to.
The back alleys would transform into a place that no longer needed a street-swindling girl. Most of the people she knew were dead, and others would fill their spots, so her little nest wouldn't be intact either.
Selbes sometimes hid her true feelings behind hesitation. It was clear she hoped Sara would leave the back alleys for good this time. Sara cursed her own quick wits in moments like these. She wanted to cling stubbornly, but she knew better.
I can't. Staying there any longer...
Brian, who had died to save her; the other madams who always hugged her; Selbes. None of them wanted that. Beyond mere childish worries, the dying wishes of the departed all urged Sara to stay away from the back alleys. She couldn't ignore those hopes. And so, she felt empty. Her thoughts circled back to the same question.
Why.
Why did it have to end like this? What had they done wrong, what sin had they committed? Why must such punishment fall on people simply trying their best to live one more day?
"There is no reason."
Sara startled. Lenoir, who had been quietly reading a book at her bedside until just moments ago, answered as if he had read her mind.
"No matter how you curse the irrationality, no reason will emerge. Phenomena have only cause and effect—no morality."
He added while still reading his book.
"Your resentment seemed ready to burst, so I answered. Did I overstep?"
"......No."
She chewed her lip. She couldn't lie in front of Lenoir.
"You're cowardly, my lord. Peeking into people's hearts like that."
"'Tis insight gained from experience. Wandering through countless lives, one eventually discerns the paths they flow upon."
"I don't get complicated talk."
"'Twas not complicated. Yet, your background holds a deep tale."
Sara pouted, feeling dismissed. But only for a moment. One part of his words truly unsettled her.
"......Isn't that the problem? If the world is full of irrationality, that's not good."
"Irrationality is not all there is. Though immorality largely drives the world, there have always been those who raged against it."
"And what became of them?"
"No one changed the world. 'Tis like pouring red paint into the sea—the waters do not turn red."
"What......"
It was profoundly sad. Draining, even. For the first time, his indifference irked her. He could have lied, said something nice. She might have felt better. Instead, melancholy settled in.
"However, there is one way."
Lenoir said.
"Create a religion. Not the false one that took your home—but the true one."
The topic shifted abruptly. Sara bristled, clutching the blanket tightly. Her sharp retort stemmed from youthful petulance.
"You only treat me well because you need me to make that religion, right?"
Even now, he was like this. He could tell a white lie, say what she needed to hear. But he always spoke only the necessary truths. That grated on her, and her words spilled aimlessly, fiddling with the soft blanket.
"......Because you need me. Otherwise, you'd have no business with me."
She asked but didn't want the answer. She couldn't fathom her own feelings.
"If I don't obey, it'd be trouble for you...... so......"
Her head drooped. Shouldn't have asked. What if he found her annoying and came to dislike her? Worry hit late.
"A strange question."
"Wh-what's......"
"The order is reversed."
His measured reply came.
"'Tis not that religion requires you. 'Tis that I require you, and thus need religion."
Her fidgeting stopped; the crumpled blanket finally breathed. Lifting her head slightly, she saw Lenoir's sharp profile, eyes still on his book.
"Need changes with circumstance. Lack does not. You are my lack, and religion my need. At least to me—thus, I intend no act against your choices."
How could he be so oblivious? His words twisted into riddles, infuriatingly vague. Yet they etched into her mind. Someday, when she knew more, she'd grasp their meaning. Sara felt foolish. Unable to parse them fully, yet thrilled he deemed her important—pride stung. Like a beggar thrilled by a fairy tale handout.
"Tr-trickery......"
Her final resistance.
"To trick you, I would have brought gold coins. I now know they melt your heart best."
She sank without proper fight. Her ears burned red. No confidence to face him. She pulled the blanket over her head.
"......Gonna sleep."
"You are a nap fiend, little Sara. Sleep is best taken when the moon shines upon you."
"Don't know. Never learned that."
"If you aim for the divine throne, I see mountains of lessons ahead."
"Zzz......"
"Your feigned sleep is most unskilled."
Infuriating to the end.
"Get out......!"
Peeking from the blanket, she poked his thigh with her toes. Lenoir regarded it briefly, then vanished from the seat.
"I shall return tomorrow. Rest deeply. Save true sleep for the night, as bidden."
As always, a faint floral scent lingered where he had been. Thanks to it, Sara couldn't sleep until nightfall, just as that infuriating man willed.
* * *
Sara left the room the next day. Confinement didn't suit a girl who had roamed the streets. Her body felt fine, so no need to stay cooped up, she argued. Selbes lost her excuse to keep her from the streets.
Thus, Sara returned to where she had been. But as expected.
"Hey! You there, step back—it's dangerous!"
"Ah, y-yes......!"
The back alleys she knew were gone. Workers who usually stuck to the viscount's castle roamed, repairing collapsed spots. Cleaning filth, tending the idiot gangs. Similar, yet different. She couldn't hate it. At least people walking the streets smiled—clearly better than before.
Yet why so bittersweet? Sara soon knew.
"Glad you're safe, Sara!"
"Aigoo, look how pale you are. You were always so pretty, but lately......!"
"Hehe......"
She met the madams. Their tavern had become an ordinary pub, thanks to viscount's aid. Plans to turn the street into a sunlit pleasure district.
"The lost girls got proper burials in bright places. The viscount himself recited elegies—they surely passed well."
"No more swindling for you, Sara."
"Where's that lord of yours? We owe him thanks too."
"Why not follow him this time? Get a real education. You've been clever since you were little."
Having lost sisters overnight, shadows crossed their faces at times. Yet they smiled. Like how they kept vitality in those dark alleys, now they held hope for better days ahead.
Sara realized. Everything prepared to change. Regardless of how much she loved her old life, they knew how to let go and move on. Only Sara hadn't known. No one taught her.
Wandering, her feet led to the cemetery. Brian's name etched on a stone. Alin, Neris, Guini beside her. She knelt, mourning long. Yet couldn't bid farewell to those who shared every moment of her life. Dazed, leaning on the stone, stroking it for ages.
"Drape this cloak. The night grows chill."
Lenoir appeared, laying his cloak over her shoulders. Sara looked up blankly.
"......My lord."
"Bury them."
"Must I forget my sisters?"
Everyone seemed to leave them behind. Sara couldn't keep pace. A confused question, not expecting reply.
Yet one came.
"You need not forget."
"......Really?"
"No one has. Your madams surely not."
Leaning on his cane, he gazed at the stone. Strangely, as if seeing beyond it.
"Carry them in your heart. Even without destination or shared purpose, the moments your paths touched remain unchanged."
"......Hard words again."
"No simple explanation exists. Life is designed not to be easy."
Lenoir placed a hand on Sara's head.
"In simplest terms: they move forward not by forgetting. The paths of those left behind shift by the moments shared with the departed. Such is meeting and parting."
As Sara's gaze turned to the stone.
"Simply live remembering what they left you. If you truly loved them, no matter how far you stray from those moments, you'll carry their paths. In every action, every word—they live on unchanged."
Surprising. He who usually expounded briefly at length this time. Sara felt comforted. Lenoir, ever saying he couldn't bear her gloom, elicited even a faint smile now. Feeble, yet vast enough.
"Then... can I live like this?"
Her voice trembled with surge. Sara now knew death and farewell differed. The end of a passing life versus parting from one intertwined—worlds apart. At fifteen, neither swift nor slow.
Sara lifted her head.
"Can I keep missing them?"
"Of course."
"Miss them... and live for that reason?"
"Depends what you do with that longing."
The night sky dazzled. Frosty stars filled it; moonlight shone fullest. Amid the pale world, Lenoir's eyes burned like noon. Gold so unlike fading time's hue.
Those eyes became her answer.
"I wish no one dies like Brian."
"Cannot eliminate all."
"Still... fewer than before."
"That, you can achieve."
He called life trajectories. If countless touching paths raced like stars, Sara yearned to be the longest, thickest. Touching more lives, leading them to smiles. A world without irrational farewells.
"If I become the goddess you speak of... can I?"
Grander than she scared herself voicing.
Floral scent bloomed. Thick, poignant, choking. As it filled the space, he affirmed.
"Among heaven, earth, and all creation, only you possess that qualification."
Sara thought.
I exist for this.
He affirmed what even she doubted. As always, and forever.
"I shall lead you to the most noble seat of the divine throne."
Sara took Lenoir's hand. Warmth flowed. Starry, blinding moonlit graveyard; floral scent spreading like spring garden. Beneath night sky, the man like brightest sun smiled. Faint curve, yet heart-achingly beautiful. Unforgettable, she knew.