The Mesugaki Is Never Alone (1)
On her way back to her own dormitory, engraving Lucy's words deep into her heart, Phoebe walked with eyes still puffy and swollen — yet on her lips lingered a fragile smile that no effort could have hidden.
She had been raised since childhood to always maintain a saintess's composure, and ordinarily she kept her face serene without fail. But today, there was simply no helping it.
Because even now, a single line of dialogue was replaying in her head.
'I don't care what you've done. Either way, you're a useless saintess.'
When she had first heard herself called a "useless saintess," Phoebe had found it uncomfortable. It wasn't often that someone hurled open insults at her face, saintess of the Church of the Chief God that she was. She had wondered how she was even supposed to respond. The words had sounded like an indictment of her own shortcomings, and had stung. She had even been a little angry, once upon a time.
But now was different.
To the Phoebe of this moment, the words useless saintess were words of profound gratitude.
They had not been spoken to demean her. Quite the opposite — they were words that affirmed her.
Because Lucy had known that Phoebe was a person who denied the faith at its very root — had known that she had doubted the mercy of God without understanding her place — had known that, in the end, she had wavered at the evil god's temptation and reached out her hand in a moment of utter foolishness.
And even knowing all of that, Lucy had told her that she was worthy of being a saintess.
Phoebe, turning that moment over in her memory, bit down hard on her lip as tears threatened to spill over again.
Ohh, what do I do? My eyes are burning so much I can't stand it.
If this bursts out of me now, I'm going to collapse right onto the road and wail like I did in Lady Arne's room!
At that thought, Phoebe recalled the sight of herself sobbing uncontrollably and buried her face in both hands.
Stupid Phoebe. What on earth did you DO back there?!
When the Apostle of Armadi affirmed you even after learning of everything you'd done, you were supposed to offer your thanks and your apologies together — and instead you just burst into tears!
Remembering herself — shedding tears, wailing hooeeeeng, sniffling, stringing together I'm sorry and thank you over and over — Phoebe felt her tears retreat in the face of a shame that burned even hotter than the emotion that had summoned them.
Fanning herself with her hands to cool her reddened face, she let out a long sigh.
I suppose I should be grateful the crying has stopped?
No. I don't think so. Because this humiliating memory is going to follow me around for a very, very long time.
Right. Think about something else. Something else, so I can forget this.
Yes — I'll simply turn over what Lady Arne told me one more time.
Do that, and even this shameful memory will fade a little.
Before leaving her room, Lucy had told Phoebe to wait.
'You must have plenty you hate about that trash heap of a church. And since you're an idiot who wanders all over the place, you probably have plenty of questions too. But not yet. If you move rashly, things could get dangerous.'
Lucy hadn't explained exactly what "dangerous" meant, but Phoebe could guess. It meant that if she took even one careless step, the Church of the Chief God could erase her entirely.
So the Church of the Chief God was a place steeped in far, far more darkness than I ever knew.
Phoebe was a person who believed in and followed the good — but she had never believed that everyone in the church was good. Wherever light exists, shadow follows.
But the darkness within the Church of the Chief God was vaster, more systematic, than anything Phoebe had imagined. It might even be vast enough to swallow the light whole.
When I think about it, of course. They fabricated the words of a god who doesn't even exist, and raised a nobody like me into a saintess.
That darkness must be so deep that one can't see even an inch ahead.
...If Lady Arne hadn't told me to wait, what would I have done?
It wasn't hard for Phoebe to imagine. If she had confronted that truth in a world without Lucy — the Apostle of Armadi — Phoebe would have moved to sweep away that darkness without a moment's hesitation. She would have fought to build the church she believed in. Even if her own head rolled in the process, she would have done it, believing it to be the duty of the one chosen as Armadi's saintess.
But now, Phoebe had no such intention. Because Lucy, the Apostle of Armadi, had told her to wait.
These were the words of a girl who heard the voice of God and received His love — and so they must lie aligned with the will of the Chief God Himself.
The exalted, the wise, the benevolent Armadi surely beheld the landscape of the far future and had laid some plan in motion. So Phoebe needed only to follow without doubt.
Her mood sinking a little as she found her thoughts circling back to Lucy again, Phoebe lowered her hands from her face and clenched both fists tight.
Okay. Back to the dorm, wash up, and...
"Saintess?"
At the voice calling her, Phoebe turned her head out of habit — and found the face of a girl who had always been devoted to her.
"Oh... ahem. Hello."
She had tried to offer her usual greeting, but startled by her own rasped voice, she cleared her throat once before answering with a smile.
Just how loudly did I cry in Lady Arne's room for my voice to still be like this?
If I'd known this would happen, I'd have cast a recovery spell on my throat on the way out. I had no presence of mind at all — no, none whatsoever.
"...Are you all right?"
"I'm sorry?"
Phoebe tilted her head at the question, then, remembering what her face must look like right now, understood the worry in the girl's eyes.
Of course. I must look an absolute mess. Anyone would be worried.
"I'm perfectly fine, truly."
So Phoebe nodded, wearing the most dependable expression she could muster. And it was the honest truth — Phoebe was happier right now than she had been in recent memory.
But the girl's anxious face refused to ease.
Does she think I'm forcing myself to look strong? I'm really fine, though.
Fearing a misunderstanding, Phoebe tried her best to reassure her — but every word out of her hoarse throat only deepened the girl's concern.
This is an injustice.
I say "injustice" a lot on any given day, but this time it wasn't an exaggeration. I was genuinely being wronged.
No, seriously — why is a rumor going around the entire academy that I tortured Phoebe?! I honestly cannot compute this! Something about this is deeply wrong! What did I ever do to her?!
I lifted the spirits of a girl who'd nearly broken down upon learning she was a fake saintess. On top of that, I gave her advice — don't rush ahead and do something reckless, wait for now — because I worried she might stumble into an incident on her own. Every single thing I did was for her benefit. So why, WHYYY, is there a story circulating that I bullied her?!
I learned of the rumor from Vishy. This morning, on my way back from training, she came up to me and asked, "Lady Arne, did you do something to the Saintess?" When I said I hadn't done anything, she said she'd figured as much and told me what she'd heard: a rumor was spreading among the students that I had dragged Phoebe into my room and tormented her.
When I first heard it, I was so flabbergasted that nothing came out of my mouth. But thinking it over, I could see how the misunderstanding had taken root. Because of the state Phoebe had been in when she stumbled out of my room yesterday.
Phoebe had walked in perfectly fine — and walked out with her eyes swollen red, her hair a mess, and her voice wrecked? Yeah, that's more than enough to raise suspicions.
My speculation solidified into fact once I put the squeeze on Avery. According to her, my reputation had degraded from a capable girl whose personality had mellowed compared to before to a capable but incorrigible lunatic — a historic-grade bitch of the highest order.
Watching Avery stammer all this out in abject terror got on my nerves so much that I couldn't stop myself from saying what I said next.
"And you just listened to all that?♡ Really?♡ Hmm, what to do~♡ this trash-tier young lady might just get a loose mouth over how useless you are♡"
"No, my lady! I did my utmost to defend you, Lady Arne! Truly I did! But the rumor didn't start with the nobles, so there was only so much I could— please, you have to believe me!"
Whether Avery had desperately defended me or simply snickered inside while everyone else cursed my name, the rumor began spreading through the academy at breakneck speed. When classes first started in the morning, it was something only a handful of people whispered to each other; as the day's lessons wore on, it spread to person after person, until by lunchtime, it had become a rumor nearly everyone knew.
Which is to say: I had apparently become the most reviled piece of garbage in existence — the monster who bullied the Saintess of the Chief God's Church, an institution enjoying overwhelming popular support both inside the academy and out.
People's stares are really starting to sting.
Ever since I'd entered Lucy's body, I'd grown used to hostile looks — but this was getting serious. Joey, bless her, had said a word on my behalf, and the circle of young ladies around her refrained from criticizing me, but everyone else made no effort whatsoever to hide their hostility. Apparently bullying an idol like Phoebe was that grave an offense.
And I hadn't done a single bad thing to the girl!
"Won't time heal this matter, if only you give it leave? The girl Phoebe has but to explain herself, and all shall be resolved."
And you think Phoebe explaining herself will actually fix it?
I can already see the scenario playing out in my head, you know?
Even if Phoebe tells everyone I did nothing wrong, the rest of them will surely think, Ah, how saintly — she forgives even the one who wronged her! and go right on cursing me anyway. And there will absolutely be people who decide that someone has to punish this trash of a girl in the Saintess's stead!
Uuuugh. I never saw this coming.
If I'd known this would happen, I'd have let Phoebe compose herself before sending her out. But no matter how much I regretted it now, what was done was done.
Haah. What can you do? I'll just have to get used to it. It's not exactly the first day people have scowled at the sight of me.
Though the stares weren't letting up even as I cut into my steak, and I felt like I might choke on it.
Strange. The steak was tender and the sauce was delicious, so I should've been in a good mood — so why did every bite lower my spirits another notch?
"Lady Arne."
At the voice, I turned my head and found Phoebe's face, apology written all over it.
"Might I join you for your meal?"