Memories of Notre Dame Cathedral
"Hah. This is ridiculous. Who just says their piece and walks off like that?" Of course, if I'd actually been stupid enough to think that, I wouldn't be one of the Demon Realm's Four Heavenly Kings—I'd be nothing more than a slave. Yeah. This was what people called the tsundere act. "...But why am I doing this bit all by myself in an empty room?" A seventy-six-year-old tsundere. Well, it was funny because it looked ridiculous. If it amused me, wasn't that enough? I decided not to overthink it. Honestly, I wasn't even sure what I was saying. Maybe my head was still foggy from the purification that had happened only hours ago. "The Captain's pretty bad with words, too..." Who brings a veil in the middle of the night, chases off two idiots, and offers to lift a high-grade curse? If he'd just admitted he was worried about me, it would've been cute.
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The clock on the wall showed dawn already breaking. "Looks like I'm not getting any sleep today..." Even if I'd had the time, the nausea probably would've kept me awake anyway. Hours had passed, yet that disgusting stench still refused to fade. The reeducation room had no windows, only a tiny ventilation hole—probably to prevent escapes. Just as I resolved to open the door for fresh air during the day, I heard it.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Doesn't sound like the Captain's heavy footsteps, so it isn't him."
"Sirmiia, it's Angelica. May I come in?"
"Yes, please do."
The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. "The awful smell is still here... this is bad."
Clack. The iron door opened. Angelica's face shone as brightly as ever. Her sapphire eyes and clear blue hair gave off that familiar refreshing aura. Just looking at her lifted my mood for no particular reason. I suppose you could say I'd developed an inexplicable fondness for her.
"Even with the veil on, Angelica, your charm doesn't seem diminished at all. You're really beautiful!"
"Ah... Thank you."
The compliment had slipped out because my spirits were inexplicably high. It was sudden, and Angelica looked awkward receiving it. She rarely showed emotion. Or perhaps she simply disliked me and kept a blank face on purpose.
"Your eyes are as clear as the blue sky, Sirmiia, and your deep navy hair flows like the ocean—they suit each other perfectly. I've always thought you were beautiful, every time I see you."
"Ah. Thank you..."
She was just as awkward with praise. It was embarrassing, really. Being a former man receiving such compliments from her left me unsure how to respond. At least it was a relief that she didn't seem to dislike me.
"Sirmiia, it seems you'll need to stay with me for the time being."
"Pardon?"
"Lord Julius requested it. You'll accompany me for now."
"Ah... I see."
Was this the solution the Captain had mentioned? No, that didn't make sense. How would having a single nun around scare off the wolves? If anything, a beauty like Angelica would only draw them in faster.
"You must be exhausted. Let's go wash up together."
"Yes!"
Setting everything else aside, I wholeheartedly agreed with this part. How many days had it been since I'd properly bathed? The thought alone was blissful. It felt like compensation for all the disgusting memories from today. I hurried to open the iron door and stepped out, then turned back to urge the still-motionless Angelica forward.
"Sirmiia, you seem too excited. Calm down first and stop by my room so we can gather some undergarments and clothes."
I simply replied, "Yes, understood!" like a machine. Really... Being one of the Four Heavenly Kings felt like being the neighborhood punching bag. To have less charisma than a mere nun... And yet, before long, I would come to retract that thought.
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"It's really spacious."
"It is. There are so many priests and nuns in the cathedral."
Angelica was explaining diligently, but none of it reached my ears. All I could think about was plunging into the steam-filled bath as quickly as possible. Reaching the bathhouse had involved far too many events. This was my first time bathing in a woman's body. My first time being completely naked and alone, too. While undressing in the changing room, I caught my reflection in the mirror and felt a spark of curiosity. Would it feel soft? I gave my unnecessarily large breasts a squeeze. "Hmm... Not as soft as I expected." Still, the sensation wasn't unpleasant. It was almost addictive. After a while, I glanced at the mirror again. My face was flushed, and groping myself like that looked exactly like a pervert. "Damn it..." The sudden self-loathing hit, and I stopped. I pulled down my panties and stared at the unnaturally smooth area below. ...Yeah, this wasn't right. Only hours ago I'd been violated—how could I not find it repulsive? The unpleasant memory flashed through my mind, so I stripped quickly and entered the bath.
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With my hair tied up, I sank into the water and naturally found my gaze drifting to Angelica's figure. Her chest looked twice the size of mine—did that even belong on a human? Had I been staring too obviously? Angelica turned her expressionless face toward me.
"....."
"....."
An awkward silence hung between us the moment our eyes met.
"Ahem, ahem..." I spoke up to break the tension. "When did you become a nun, Angelica?"
"Two hundred years ago."
"What?"
"I was joking."
"....."
It was the first time I'd met someone who could deliver a joke with a completely straight face and not even smile. Her icy humor sent a chill through me, as if I'd stepped into cold water.
"Why did you become a nun?"
"To atone to a friend."
"What? You, Angelica?"
I was surprised. Though I'd only followed her for a few hours, I'd already sensed she was a perfectionist. Once she focused on something, she pursued it to absolute perfection. Hearing her speak of atonement was unexpected. What sin could a perfectionist like her have committed against a friend?
"Yes. I'm a very bad friend, after all."
Her face remained as blank as ever. Yet somehow, I could tell she was grieving right now—an inexplicable, subtle atmosphere clung to her. Huh? Had I stepped on a landmine? The already awkward mood was about to grow worse. I quickly changed the subject.
"What do you usually do?"
"I go to the prayer room every day to offer repentance to the Lord, tend to the flowers, or guide visitors who come to pray. I also help the other sisters when they ask. Of course, almost no one asks me for help."
I listened attentively. Her calm, gentle voice was pleasant to hear—clear and pure, drawing me in without my realizing it. We continued chatting quietly after that. While we talked, I felt mana stirring within my body. "The mana suppressant has finally worn off!" I got out of the bath immediately and headed for the shower. I wanted to finish washing quickly, return to my room, and swing my sword. The shock of being unable to use mana had been too great—I needed to regain my sense of security as soon as possible. Following Angelica's instructions, I washed my long hair. "Wow... This is exhausting." Why was my hair so long, anyway? Maybe I should just cut it short... As I moved to wash my body, the events from the middle of the night flashed through my mind. It wasn't as bad as before the curse had been lifted, but being touched by those men still felt repulsive.
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Angelica finished her shower and soaked in the bath for a while, waiting for Sirmiia to finish. But no matter how long she waited, Sirmiia showed no sign of coming out. Over two hours had clearly passed—why wasn't she emerging? "Is she taking so long because she can't wash her hair properly?" It was a foolish thought, yet when it came to Sirmiia, such things often proved true. Strangely, she seemed incapable of doing most things a woman should know how to do. Being with her felt like looking after a seven-year-old child. Angelica climbed out of the bath and walked toward the shower room. She'd been in the water so long that dizziness struck her. "Sirmiia, are you still washing?" She opened the door and called out, but there was no answer. Had she already left without her noticing? That seemed like a reasonable suspicion. No—listening closely, she heard the sound of something being scrubbed furiously. Feeling uneasy, Angelica followed the noise to its source. "Sirmiia...?" Her heart dropped. Sirmiia's entire body was covered in blood. The bathroom floor alone revealed how much she'd bled. Somehow, she'd gotten hold of something metallic and was frantically scraping it across her own skin. "Sirmiia! Stop! What are you doing? Don't do that!" Angelica shouted desperately and grabbed her arm. Whether she couldn't hear the command or not, Sirmiia kept trying to scratch herself. "I have no choice." Angelica raised her right hand and slapped Sirmiia's cheek hard. If words wouldn't reach her, then force would. It was one of the lessons life had taught her. Sirmiia took the blow to her left cheek, then came to her senses and looked up. "Ah. You're here, Angelica? I'm sorry. I took too long, didn't I? I'll be out soon." "...What? What are you saying right now? Sirmiia, look at your body. Are you in your right mind? Why did you do this?" Sirmiia gave Angelica a puzzled look, glanced down at herself, then looked back up. "Why? I was just washing away the dirt. I want to be clean, and to get clean you have to wash away what's dirty, right?" She answered as if the question itself were strange. Angelica let out a hollow laugh. "Has she gone mad?" She looked into Sirmiia's eyes. They still shone with the deep blue of the Atlantic Ocean. But deep within those pupils now lay an endless, pitch-black abyss that hadn't been there before. A chill ran down her spine. For the first time, Angelica felt fear while looking at her. Sirmiia smiled innocently, as if Angelica's reaction didn't matter at all. "By the way, Angelica, do you have any disinfectant? I couldn't clean inside. That's the dirtiest part—I have to wash it, but I couldn't reach the place I need to wash. The place I need to wash, I..." She kept repeating "I have to wash it" like a broken record. Even at a glance, her mind looked unstable. "So this is why Lord Julius entrusted her to me." She hadn't been enslaved yet, but Sirmiia's spirit was already utterly broken.