Blood of the Martyr (4)
The restaurant was quiet and sparsely populated. So much so that I wondered if I even belonged here.
I entered awkwardly and took a seat at a table as far from the window as possible. I spotted a server approaching.
"Ready to order? What can I get for you?"
"Hmm..."
I stared intently at the menu on the table. It had been so long since I'd eaten out that I couldn't decide what to get.
As I took too long browsing, the server gave an embarrassed smile and turned to leave.
"Just let me know when you've decided~."
"...Excuse me."
The server paused and looked back at me. Avoiding her eyes, I asked,
"What's the most popular dish here?"
She beamed and returned to the table. A faint aroma of food tickled my nose.
"Our seafood sizzling fried rice is the bestseller... but it might be a bit much for one person, Father. So..."
"Is it good?"
"...Pardon?"
"The seafood sizzling fried rice. Is it the tastiest and most popular?"
The server nodded. I set the menu aside and said,
"Then that's what I'll have."
"It's a big portion..."
"I have one companion. It'll be fine."
"Ah, got it. What would you like to drink?"
"...Just water."
The server left. I pushed the menu to the corner of the table and leaned back in my chair.
"Hoo..."
Yesterday's unpleasantness still weighed on me. Scolding Priestess Camilla hadn't brought relief—only a vague melancholy that irked me.
I'd come here today to meet someone, but without the appointment, I probably would've holed up in my dorm, chain-smoking.
I pulled the Bible from my robes. The urge to smoke was strong, but I recalled Deaconess Sophia coughing at the smell and glanced warily around.
How long did I read like that?
"Ah, there you are."
A familiar yet strangely distant voice reached me. I closed the Bible and looked up.
"Colonel Mayhem."
"It's reserve colonel now..."
It was Colonel Mayhem. He'd retired as a full colonel, but that old rank suited him better to me.
He sat across from me, lit a cigarette between his lips, and fumbled for matches. I watched blankly.
Noticing, he chuckled.
"Not saying a word, huh."
"Pardon?"
"Back then, your face would sour the moment I put a cig in my mouth. You hated the smell."
"...That was a long time ago."
"Yeah. A long time ago. I even used to show you proper respect back then."
"We weren't that close."
"Right... we weren't."
Silence fell. After struggling with the matches for a while, he gave up smoking, pocketed the cigarette, and asked,
"Food? You order already?"
"Yes."
"This the menu? Hmm... seafood sizzling fried rice?"
"Yes. You like seafood, don't you?"
"Well... Father Antonelli, you know something?"
He sighed. I watched him silently.
"Since the war ended, I haven't touched seafood once."
"Is that so."
"Funny, right? We couldn't get enough back then. Now, it just doesn't cross my mind."
Another silence. The server brought a water pitcher and glasses, so I poured for both of us without a word.
"Thanks."
Colonel Mayhem downed the cold water in one gulp, as if hoping it'd soothe his bitter gut.
He set the glass down looking much improved. I refilled it, and he drained it again.
I couldn't read the emotions in his eyes—tangled, dense, and messy. He muttered with a sigh,
"The older I get, the more time passes... the more I change. Time's just cruel."
"Doesn't everyone?"
"Yeah. No one escapes it. But..."
He smiled bitterly. His left arm on the table looked lonely. I averted my eyes from his limp right sleeve.
"Ours seems to flow a little faster than most."
"...Did you leave your prosthetic at home?"
"Nah. No need for it to meet you."
"Still..."
During the Great War, our battalion HQ took shelling. After that, Colonel Mayhem lost his arm.
As my expression shifted, he laughed heartily.
"Hahaha! I'm fine, don't worry. Even got used to the left arm."
"......"
"That day, we nearly died. Losing just an arm was lucky."
"...Colonel Mayhem."
Something surged inside me. My throat felt clogged with a stone. I sipped water and continued,
"You seem as lively as ever."
"Uhaha... well..."
He awkwardly chuckled, then looked away and said,
"Truth is, it wasn't always like this."
His eyes, gazing into the distance, glistened. I couldn't tell if it was emotion or the lamplight. I discreetly looked away.
"Back then... I drowned in booze every day. Thought I'd lose my mind."
"Really."
"Wife cried whenever she saw me, kids grew up enough for the academy, left hand's clumsy... but the imperial pension's generous—no money worries. Thank God."
Yours must be decent too. He turned to me.
"Heard frontline chaplains like you get good pensions—not like the rear ones."
"Dunno. Never checked my account."
"What? You're letting it rot. Go to the bank soon."
"...I don't know if I deserve to spend it."
He drew a sharp breath. I pressed on regardless.
"If it was truly earned fair and square... but I..."
"...Father Antonelli."
"I feel like a sinner. Maybe I should've stayed in the Empire with you. Going to the Holy Nation just brought me hell..."
"Because of Helena?"
I met his gaze. His eyes were still hard to read—maybe from years in the military.
"Not just that."
"But partly."
"Colonel Mayhem."
"Let it go."
I clenched my fist. He didn't even twitch an eyebrow.
"Time to marry, have kids. Helena'd be sad seeing you like this."
"I can't."
"Father Antonelli... without family, I don't know how I'd have survived that hell. Still scares me to think."
His words were so gentle, purely concerned for me—I knew it.
"Start a family. It heals wounds more than you'd think."
"......"
"Your choice, of course. Just advice—no offense."
"Yes. I know."
I unclenched my fist. He smirked and said,
"Anyway, thought about attending?"
"What?"
"The Phoenix Comrades Association. Old Phoenix Battalion guys miss you."
"...It still meets?"
"Hey, that's hurtful. We gather regularly. Didn't I send a letter lately? Come if you can."
"Don't remember any."
"Wrong address...?"
He tilted his head foolishly. I couldn't help chuckling.
"Was it really wrong? Where's your place now?"
"Faculty dorms at Caldea Imperial Academy."
"Ah, damn. Yeah, messed up."
I stared incredulously; he grinned broadly.
"Academy out of nowhere. As a student?"
"Theology professor. At my age?"
"Huh...? How old are you?"
"Twenty-nine this year."
"Whoa... time flies. Crazy."
It was absurd. As my lips twitched upward, he pointed and laughed.
"Finally smiling. You looked like death earlier."
"Did I?"
"Yeah. So, coming to the comrades meetup?"
I pictured the old Phoenix Battalion faces from the front lines—faint features, like they'd treat me as a stranger.
"...I'll think about it."
"Lots wanna see you. Especially the ones you saved."
"Is that so."
"Yeah. You're their lifesaver."
Same here. He grinned lopsidedly. I sipped my water.
Eyeing me, he asked,
"More importantly, booze?"
"Just water. You quit too, right?"
"Hey, clueless. Booze fits today. Server!"
"No..."
We stepped out into the night, buzzing warmly from the drinks. The cool air brushed my flushed skin, making me shiver.
"Ugh... seafood after ages wasn't bad... Next time, my favorite spot."
"...Sure."
"You drunk?"
"Fine."
"Alright. Gotta head home—wife might nag."
"Get going."
He seemed a bit tipsy. We exchanged goodbyes, and I turned.
"Father Antonelli! Comrades meetup—come! I'll send details! You must!"
I paused, then kept walking. His voice faded.
The capital bustled even late evening. I hurried to the dorms.
My pace quickened. By the academy, I was nearly running.
"Hah... huff..."
My ragged breath unnerved me. I fumbled for keys. They kept missing the lock—infuriating.
Finally inside, I bolted to the bathroom, gasping.
"Hngh, hack...!"
Stomach churning, I gripped the toilet, but only thick saliva drooled—no vomit.
I touched my hand. Warm. Not indigestion.
"Th-then... why..."
Why this suffocating chest? I knew the reason but shook my head, denying it.
I slumped to the bathroom floor. Wiping my sleeve didn't stop the blurring vision.
"Why... damn it, why..."
Colonel Mayhem, reunited after so long, had endured old wounds and grown strong. Seeing that hurt like death.
The old comrades gathering—unfairly resentful.
They'd shed scars, old shames, painful pasts. Looking forward, moving on.
"Hic...! Why only me..."
Why was I stuck in place?
Gagging noises escaped. Hateful sounds. I plugged my ears.
"I... I too..."
I want to move forward. Shed this agonizing past.
I was sinking. Thrashing in sticky mire, in some forsaken spot no one could save.
Realizing that, something inside crumbled. I...
"Ugh! Hic... H-Helena...!"
At least... not today.
Meeting you... I regret it so bitterly.