Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven Is at Hand (4)

"Oh, you're here?"

When Tsunashi Tenka came back into the living room, Ninomae was already sitting on the sofa. Popcorn had even been set out in front of her. It would have been ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠heartwarming to think she had prepared it ahead of time for today — unfortunately, Tsubasa was in no frame of mind to be simply glad of it.

"Sorry. I'm not used to this, so it took a while."

"No. It's all right."

Ninomae let out a soft hee of a laugh and shook her head.

In truth it was an outfit Tenka could have put on with her eyes closed. The real reason she was late was simply not a thing she could tell Ninomae.

"It suits you."

"Thanks. It suits you too, Ninomae-chan."

So saying, she took the seat beside Ninomae.

"We're taking the picture first, right?"

"As I said, it'd be better to post the tweet before we watch the movie."

Ninomae worked her phone and opened the camera. Tsunashi pressed in closer still — and then, smooth as anything, linked their arms.

"H-huh?"

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothing…"

The gesture put a faintly flustered look on Ninomae's face, but the other girl's gaze was so unabashed that she turned her head away again.

Anathema Gen 2's Charlotte Lupus, the reliable big-sister type, had a way of showing an utterly unselfconscious side now and then. Set the werewolf concept aside, and that personality was nearly identical to Tsunashi Tenka's own.

Which was to say that the human being called Tsunashi Tenka was a considerable airhead in her own right. Her temperament had always been so; she had spent several of her school years abroad, and even at her girls' school she had been treated like an idol, which left her clumsy at judging the distance between herself and other people. For that whole tangle of reasons she often reached for physical contact without realizing it, and Charlotte's offline collabs never failed to hand the timeline a fresh pile of material.

Something as light as linking arms produced victims (?) often enough on ordinary days. Ninomae assumed this time would be no different.

Ugh… what am I even doing?

But contrary to what Ninomae believed, Tsunashi Tenka's heart was pounding hard. This once, she was acting in full awareness of what she was doing.

Even in this moment, the memory of only a little while ago — those very words — was carved into her mind.

It had been a situation in which, had things slipped even slightly, had Sister's judgment tilted by even a little, her head might have left her shoulders on the spot. The terror she never wanted to meet again had withdrawn of its own accord, and it had done so because she held Ninomae's favor. Not purely that, perhaps. But if Sister was to be believed, that favor had plainly claimed a considerable share.

And so Tsunashi, though it was for the sake of her own survival, fawned on another person of her own will for the first time in her life.

Well — even calling it fawning, she was only doing on purpose what she ordinarily did without a thought. Still, that reason alone was not enough to thin the tremor of choosing, herself, to do a thing she had never once done.

All the while Ninomae, none the wiser to what Tsunashi actually felt, lifted the phone. The screen held the two of them. Click. The angle was tilted, just slightly, from above.

"Well then… shall we watch the movie?"

"Y-yeah. That sounds good."

"Mmm……"

For a work someone had gone so far as to recommend, it was decidedly questionable. The creepy atmosphere at the start was decent enough. From the moment the leads appeared, though, the film began to creak.

The acting was awkward, for one. The dialogue was in English, so problems of accent ought to have been difficult to catch — and still they stood out. The cuts were needlessly dizzying; even a layperson could see there was far too much pointless technique. The props were shoddy. The hero and heroine, introduced under the concept of a werewolf couple, wore beast-ear headbands that were obviously fake at a glance. They had not even tried to match them to the color of the hair.

With everything else in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that state, the CG was never going to be fine. Halfhearted effects that called children's educational television to mind. Sound effects so chipper that the only honest way to write them was pyororong — and this from a film that had the nerve to bill itself as gothic horror.

The vampire young lady in the villain's seat was, at least, a little better. Only because, putting a title like vampire versus werewolf to shame, she had virtually no presence until the middle and late stretches. For more than an hour after the film began she would appear now and then, seated with her legs crossed, watching the protagonists through her familiar and murmuring, "How interesting." That was the whole of her part. Acting, direction, editing — not one of the things that had been dreadful about this movie had any room to get a foot in, and so she alone was permitted to remain intact.

"Ooh. Looks like she's finally about to move?"

And then, entering the latter half, the vampire girl at last showed signs of stirring. So this story, which had done nothing but drag its feet, was finally going to live up to its name. At that, the two of them watched the screen with expectation gathering in their chests.

"…Huh."

"That was way too fast."

The very next scene was the heroine, already bound. Fifteen seconds had passed since the vampire declared she was joining the fight.

While the two viewers were still reeling, the vampire approached the tied heroine. And bit her neck.

"……"

"Nn……"

The drinking went on for more than ten minutes. Not once did it feel like a waste of film. If anything, they grew certain this was the scene the director had wanted to make all along. The camera had abandoned, completely, the flourishes it had been brandishing to excess — and the sight it held was, how else to say it, profoundly erotic.

There was no sex act in it. She merely drew an arm around the shoulder and set her teeth in the nape. And yet that one scene alone boasted an astonishing completeness, an immersion that swallowed the rest: the performances, the framing, as though the film meant at last to balance every element that had been plunging into the negative.

Gulp. From beside her came the sound of Tsunashi swallowing. A moment later it was buried under the sound ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of her own heart.

Heat climbed into her head. Sweat began to seep, slow and creeping, from her palms. The linked arms — still tangled, because she had missed the moment to let go — pressed themselves back into her awareness all at once.

"……"

"……"

She turned her head without thinking. The timing was terrible.

Their eyes met. Both of them whipped their faces away again in a hurry.

Fortunately, the long blood-drinking scene was nearly at its end.

And through that bite the heroine, now a vampire-werewolf, swore obedience to the vampire and beat the male lead to death. The movie ended.

What the hell was that…?

At an ending that accelerated so hard it left them dizzy, Ninomae and Tsunashi sat perfectly still. An awkward silence kept on flowing after that. The finale had been slapdash, yes — and because of it, the film had for all practical purposes ended on the bed scene. They had been flung back into reality without even a moment in which to cool the heat that had risen.

"I-I'll go wash my face."

"Y-yeah. Go ahead."

Ninomae, her face still flushed pink, shot up from her seat and fled for the bathroom. Tsunashi fanned herself with one hand, as if to drive the heat off.

Even so, her eyes drifted of their own accord to the place where Ninomae had been sitting.

A werewolf's nose caught the body-scent left in that spot, and a thick wash of pheromones with it. It had to be because Ninomae's body, after that scene of almost-sex, had scattered them without her knowing.

Tsunashi let her hand fall, thoughtlessly, onto the cushion where Ninomae had sat, felt the warmth still remaining, and in a guilt she could not name snatched the hand back.

"…Hn."

Tsunashi Tenka rubbed at her nose for no reason in particular. There wasn't one. None at all.

Somehow, her hand seemed to smell faintly sweet.