Fingers (9)
Clink. Clink.
A hearty stew filled my mouth. Chunks of potato and meat crunched between my teeth, leaving a savory, salty richness lingering on my tongue.
“……”
“…Sophia.”
“Eat first.”
Sophia sat across from me, chin in hand, staring intently. She said nothing, just watched me eat in silence.
The cold pressure in her gaze made me pick up my spoon again. I scooped up another bite without a word. Then another. And another.
The bowl emptied quickly. I carefully set down my spoon and stood to take it to the sink.
“I’ll do it.”
“No, I can—”
“Father Lucio.”
Sophia’s eyes turned to me. Emerald-green, a little hardened. I met her gaze for a moment.
“…All right. Thanks.”
“Sure. Just relax.”
Sophia grabbed the bowl and headed to the sink. Her small frame in an apron looked a bit awkward.
“Hoo…”
Pushed by her back, I reluctantly rose and sank slowly into the living room sofa. Then I closed my eyes.
Whoosh—.
Soon, the sound of running water started. She was probably doing the dishes too.
“Sophia. You can leave it.”
“Be quiet.”
“……”
I closed my eyes again. My head spun a little. Not from overusing divine power. Just… an inexplicable nausea rising.
Emerald eyes that seemed to pull you in. Golden hair sparkling like sunlight woven into strands.
Her approaching me, backlit by the sunset…
“…Father.”
I cracked my eyes open. Sophia’s green gaze was right in front of my face.
I must’ve dozed off. I slowly rubbed my face.
“…Sophia.”
“Sorry. You looked tired, and I woke you.”
“It’s fine. I slept enough.”
“Good. Then…”
Sophia set a teacup in front of me. Then she plopped down on the opposite sofa.
“Shall we talk now?”
I carefully lifted the cup. Wary of spasms in my right hand.
Thankfully, none came. I took a sip of the warm black tea. Bitter, with a faint aroma that lingered long in my mouth. Today, it tasted especially bitter.
“Sophia.”
“Yeah?”
“Different tea?”
“Yep. Tried the leaves Professor Esther left.”
I furrowed my brow slightly and set the cup down. Seeing my face, Sophia spoke.
“I’ll use the usual teabags from now on.”
“Yes. Please.”
This time, Sophia lifted her cup. She savored the aroma, then tilted her head and muttered.
“Tastes better to me… You’ve got weird tastes, Father. Why stick to cheap tea?”
“Haha… You wouldn’t get it if I told you.”
“Try me.”
Sophia set her cup down with a clink. She scooted the sofa closer, leaning in.
“It’s about time I knew, right?”
“……”
“Truth is, after I brought you here, I nursed you all night.”
“Thanks.”
“Not looking for thanks.”
Then what?
As if answering my unspoken question, Sophia’s lips moved.
“Father. I heard you talking in your sleep.”
“Sleep-talking?”
“Yeah. So, Father.”
Sophia leaned closer. I turned my head slightly, but she gently grabbed my cheek and turned it back.
“What the hell have you been through?”
Her expression was so heartbreakingly sad.
“……”
I couldn’t say a word. As I clamped my mouth shut in silence, Sophia’s face grew even sadder.
“What happened to make you writhe in pain every night? It’s not every night, right? Right?”
“Sophia. I…”
“Who the hell is Helena? Is she why you’re not well?”
I rubbed my face repeatedly. My mind felt fragile, like a built tower crumbling.
“Please… answer me, Father.”
How could I explain? How to detail everything I’d been through.
Sophia. You’ll hate me too. You’ll look at me with disgust.
I thought I’d built some relationships. I can’t lose them like this.
Sophia gently pried my hands from my face. I had no choice but to meet her eyes.
“What kind of life have you lived? Why your right arm? Why did you collapse that day? Everything.”
“So, phia…”
“You’ll tell me, right?”
“……”
What life had I lived? What had I endured?
“I, I…”
How had I survived?
I blinked.
Yes. I just blinked. That was all.
“……!”
I looked down at my hands. Covered in blood. Blackened crust under my nails.
Whose blood? Whose?
“Ah, aaah…”
My limbs trembled. I squeezed my eyes shut. Opened them.
The blood was gone.
Gasp…! Gasp…!
My breath came in gasps. I gritted my teeth, trying to act calm. Futile.
“…Father?”
Sophia was utterly flustered.
In the middle of their talk, Father Lucio Antonelli had suddenly clawed at his hair and collapsed to the floor.
“Father! Father!”
“Hic, ahic…! Guhic…”
“Oh god…! Father! Snap out of it!”
Father Lucio Antonelli. He curled up, clutching his head, sobbing endlessly. Sophia hurriedly opened her Bible.
“Th-there’s a prayer for times like this… somewhere…”
Even as she flipped frantically, Father Antonelli just huddled and sobbed. Trembling limbs, muttering nonsense.
“S-sorry… Sorry…”
Father Antonelli rose. Then knelt, bowing his head.
“Father! What are you—”
“I-I’m a murderer… Sorry… I’m filthy… Sorry…”
“Snap out of it! Aaa… damn it…!”
“I’ll die! So please stop! Please! I beg you!”
As he began strangling himself, Sophia rushed to him.
“Are you crazy?! Father! Hands! Hands!”
“Kk… Sorry… so please…”
“Snap out of it—!”
She barely pried his arms away, eyes flicking to the Bible flung across the room.
Prayer wouldn’t help now. If it would, he’d have used it himself.
“Hic, kk…! I, I…”
This time, Father Antonelli grabbed Sophia, who’d knelt in front of him, pulling her into a tight embrace.
“I didn’t want to either… I lost everything too…”
“Father…”
Flustered as she was, Sophia didn’t push him away. In her shock, her small hand hovering in midair slowly stroked his back.
“It’s okay. It’s okay…”
“……”
She felt his priestly robes soak through.
Tears from the ever-stoic Father Antonelli. To Sophia, they weren’t light tears.
What had happened to make him tremble in such fear? What trials had he overcome for this cold man to crumble so suddenly?
Sophia grunted, lifting Father Antonelli. She laid him on the bed. He frowned through tear-streaked face, muttering apologies.
“Haa…”
Sophia brushed sweat-damp hair behind her ear. Shocked by the suddenness, but glad he calmed quickly.
She sat by the seemingly sleeping Father Antonelli. Her feelings were deeply conflicted.
Sophia dragged the sofa bedside. Closed her weary eyes.
“…Later. I’ll hear it later.”
Not the time now.
Soon, only their quiet breaths filled the room.