Coincidence - 3
One could say without exaggeration that the life of a Saintess was the most tedious existence a human being could lead. Being revered by the people — and that was all there was to it. What meaning was there in devotion from those who could not even look upon her face?
She had gained the blessing of god at the price of her sight. The world she had known since birth was nothing more than the difference between light and dark; even the color of a flower was something she had come to know only through learning.
The name of Saintess. The position of standing at the very apex of the Church, bestowing blessings upon the people of the Empire. She had never once harbored doubts about any of it, and yet the world remained one of those things that never failed to stir Adrian's curiosity — an unknown realm whose contents she could scarcely imagine, though she had heard of it only through books and fairy tales.
Adrian had always carried a quiet longing to speak with someone other than priests or the Pope. It was for that reason her first escape from the Church came at the age of thirteen. Unable to see, she had no choice but to venture out with a single priest she was close to — and the world she found was an utterly wondrous place.
The many sounds that reached her ears were nothing like the tolling of bells. Not the organ music she heard every day, but real people chattering away about this and that. The Princess? The Imperial Palace? She hadn't understood the words then — learning that the first friend she made outside the Church was the Imperial Princess would come later.
If she had not happened upon the Princess's carriage by chance, what would she be doing now? Perhaps she would have met some strange person and been swept up in something dubious — at the memory that surfaced unbidden, Adrian let out a small laugh.
"Saintess?"
"No, I was just thinking of the old days."
She had been caught after that first escape and scolded severely, but afterward she had been free to go outside as she pleased. Her identity as the Saintess simply had to be hidden, which was why she wore such shabby commoner's clothes.
What Adrian did when she went out was simple. Sometimes she climbed to the garden and stared blankly at the sun; other times she stopped by the slums where young children gathered and kept them company. Listening to them was how she learned what was happening in the world — though any child who badmouthed Mirajane often found themselves on the receiving end of a sharp scolding from her.
Today was one of her days to visit the orphanage where those children lived. It was an outing she made once a week, and she had set out with no small measure of anticipation — yet the strangely rowdy atmosphere left Adrian puzzled. She could not see, but she could always read the mood. Normally the children would come running the moment she arrived, but today only a few had come, and the rest was nothing but noise.
"Is something the matter?"
Adrian crouched down and asked, and one of the children whispering nearby answered.
"Hans got into a fight with Kato and ran off. He'll probably be back before long."
Haah. Letting out a small sigh, Adrian rose to her feet. Children squabbling was nothing unusual, but running away — that meant someone had to go find him. And Hans was a boy who got into trouble often. If he wandered outside and happened to cross the wrong noble with a foul temper, things would take an ugly turn; better to find him before that happened.
"I'll go look for him and be right back. No one's hurt, is there?"
"No, nobody's hurt."
Then that was that. Adrian sent the children on their way and began wandering the streets in search of Hans. The truth was, though, that her search moved slower than she'd hoped. Walking was no easy task without someone at her side — divine power would have helped, but this was no place to use such strength.
"Now where could Hans have gotten to."
She had to find him before dark — listening to the sounds around her with that thought, Adrian flinched hard at a voice that came without warning.
"Um, excuse me. Are you looking for someone, by any chance?"
"Eek!"
Silence followed the scream that had escaped her before she knew it. For a Saintess who had always kept her voice low in the name of decorum, it was nothing short of a mortifying accident.
Calming her startled, pounding heart, Adrian carefully parted her lips. That voice just now — she had certainly heard it before. The name her memory dredged up was a rather unexpected one. She had expected to meet him eventually, but never this soon.
"...Sir Taylor, is it?"
Her answer, delivered with all the composure she could muster, trembled faintly. Surely he hadn't noticed — waiting for his reply on that thought, Adrian's hopes soon collapsed miserably.
"Ah... yes, that's me."
A voice laced with faint laughter — even a fool would have caught on. At the sound now making no effort to hide its amusement, Adrian's expression crumpled.
"So this is the boy you were looking for."
The one Adrian had been searching for was the child who had just come out and collided with me. I remembered where he was, so I brought him along, and she smiled brightly as she stroked the boy's head. He was probably quite the little troublemaker. Seeing her more relieved that no accident had befallen him than joyful at finding him, a laugh slipped out of me despite myself.
"You're laughing again."
Adrian turned her face toward me. Her eyes were closed, but had her sight been intact, it would surely have looked as though she were shooting me a sidelong glare. Perhaps because she'd heard me chuckle at her scream earlier, she was reacting to my laughter with a touch of irritation.
"I laughed because it was a lovely sight. It makes for quite the picture, doesn't it?"
"If that's the case... then I suppose I have nothing to say..."
"Well, I'd say people are entitled to a scream when they're startled."
"I-I have never screamed in my life."
She had seemed to scream just fine a moment ago. That "eek" of hers had been rather unexpected, I thought. Always so aloof and dignified, hardly raising her voice even — wasn't that the Saintess of the official stage? Seen like this, she had a surprisingly unassuming side to her.
To think she was working at an orphanage, caring for children. So this was what a Saintess was. Going out could hardly have been easy for her, and the fact that she devoted even those rare opportunities to service drew from me a small, genuine admiration.
I had never met anyone like her. If such a person existed at my side, I could trust them completely — the thought crossed my mind unbidden.
I had lived through countless loops, yet this was the first time I had ever met the Saintess. If I had built a bond with her in some earlier life, might my ending have turned out a little differently?
It wasn't that I had never tried to meet her. It was simply that, with an almost uncanny consistency, I never could. When I sought her out, the Saintess had already fled to some foreign land; on the rare occasion a meeting finally seemed possible, I would be ambushed and caught off guard.
And so I had all but abandoned any expectation of ever meeting her — only for this loop's Saintess to cross my path twice, on nothing more than coincidence. ...It felt a little hollow, but there was nothing bad in it.
"By the way, Sir Taylor, where were you headed?"
"I stepped out on an errand. By the way — isn't that heavy?"
Watching her struggle under the load alone, I asked, and Adrian nodded that she was perfectly fine. It was probably blankets and such for the children. But when she wobbled on her own a few more times, I naturally couldn't just stand there and watch.
"Give it here. I'd be quicker about it."
"It's fine, you can rest, I can— oh."
"No, it's because I'm not fine that I'm insisting."
Even at a glance, her movements were precarious. That she had been doing this all along was impressive, and yet part of me glared at the attendant who stood by doing nothing. However much she had to pass for a commoner outside, she was still his Saintess — wasn't this going too far? But the attendant only shook his head, looking rather wronged. I could roughly guess the situation. It was probably her stubbornness — coming to a place like this and insisting on hauling everything herself.
"You really don't have to help, you know."
Adrian muttered, lips jutting into a pout. Whether it was that my carrying the heavy load bothered her, she only finally went quiet after plucking the topmost item out of my arms.
What an unusual woman, I thought. Most nobles would balk at setting foot in a place like this — and here she was, coming in the flesh of a Saintess.
As Adrian moved about with the blankets in her arms, the children began clustering onto her. Each of them spouted whatever was on their mind, and she tossed back one remark or another in reply as she listened.
"Children, if you keep hanging off me like this, I can't go anywhere."
"Sis, Hans keeps hitting Kato!"
"I didn't hit him! I just touched him, that's all!"
"Hans, keep that up and big sis will leave early."
At that, the boy called Hans clamped his mouth shut. Adrian's influence in this orphanage was apparently considerable. However much of a troublemaker the boy was, he obeyed her words without fail. The woman I took for the orphanage's director simply watched the scene with a fond smile.
Adrian fit in quite naturally among those children. I didn't know how long she had been doing this, but I could hardly deny that she found joy in it. At the thought, my expression darkened — a little, just a very little.
It felt like watching someone from another world entirely. Laughing amid the children, blind though she was, she was every inch the figure her title of Saintess promised. Nothing like me. The light spilling from the sky seemed to reach her and make her shine.
Shadow pooled where I stood, and the light bent only toward Adrian and the children — at the sight, I laughed, dry and bitter. Didn't it look for all the world like I was the one being slighted? Well, she was a Saintess chosen by god; it was only natural that her treatment and mine should differ.
"Sir Taylor, could you give me a hand with this for a moment?"
So Adrian called out to me, standing there in the shade. I hadn't made a sound, and yet her gaze landed precisely on the spot where I stood. I flinched for an instant, then answered in a level voice.
"What is it?"
"The children won't let go of me. Could you watch them for just a moment...?"
So many children had latched onto her skirts that she was, by the look of it, in quite a bind. She also seemed apologetic about asking me, so I readily agreed and began peeling the children away one by one. Perhaps Hans, who knew me, had already said something, because the moment I stepped in, they let go of Adrian at once. It was a relief they weren't utterly disobedient — I'd never had any real experience handling small children, after all.
Adrian gave me a small bow, then vanished with her attendant in tow. The way she walked so surely, as though familiar with every inch of the terrain, was honestly fascinating. Anyway — with Adrian here, it was about time I got going too. I had originally set out with the guild in mind. With her arrived, I supposed I ought to go see to my own business.
"Mister."
Just then, a child tugged at my sleeve. Mister, was it? Not a bad title, all things considered — going by my mental age, I was probably closer to a corpse. When I glanced down, the startled boy looked toward the direction Adrian had disappeared and spoke up carefully.
"Are you and our sis acquainted?"
"...We've only just exchanged names. Why do you ask all of a sudden?"
"I was wondering if you might be courting. You're both grown-ups, after all."
"We're not, so you needn't worry."
At that, several of the children let out a collective phew of relief. Did they really think Adrian and I were such a poor match? Naturally I had not the slightest intention of becoming her lover, but still, getting that kind of reaction left an odd taste in my mouth.
"You're still here, then?"
That train of thought scattered at a voice from the other side. Adrian and her attendant were approaching, arms laden with water bottles. It was summer, after all, and several of the children were drenched in sweat — no doubt that was the reason.
"I'm still here."
"Ah, I was afraid you'd gone on ahead. Thank you for your help earlier. Here, have some water— huh?!"
Adrian's body pitched forward all at once. Hurrying toward me, she must have failed to recall the jutting stone in her path. The calm on her face crumpled in an instant, and the water bottles in her hands flew skyward. The sight of her sunlit hair scattering through the air looked, for a heartbeat, like light going out. Had I not caught her, she would surely have been badly hurt as well.
"Hah—"
Adrian, caught against my arm, let out a short breath. I had seized her mere inches from the ground, and so had no choice but to pull her firmly against me. Warm breath brushed my ear. With her neck draped over my shoulder, the heart of the woman nestled against me was pounding hard.
After only a moment, Adrian — who had been gripping my shoulder tight — drew herself back and slowly parted her lips. Her cheeks wore a faint flush, perhaps from the embarrassment of having been seen to fall.
"Well. You caught me. Thank you... truly."
"Are you all right? I apologize for laying hands on you — I had to catch you before you fell."
"I'm fine. It couldn't be helped, could it? Ugh, I hardly ever fall like that."
Rising with my support, she soon let out a groan and clutched at her ankle. It seemed she had twisted it in the fall; steadied by her attendant, Adrian murmured something under her breath. The look on her face as she lamented how much she still had to do today was steeped in regret, and the children could only gaze up at her with long faces.
Then, all at once, the children's eyes turned to me. Gazes carrying the naked implication: if anyone can help, it's Mister. Under ordinary circumstances I would have ignored them. Had the woman beside her been anyone but the Saintess, I would certainly have brushed it off and gone about my errand.
"Haah."
My hand drifted, unbidden, to my neck. The wound I had taken last time — the one Adrian had healed — that cut had vanished without leaving so much as a scar. So surely I owed her a favor in return. ...Or perhaps this, too, was simply a move toward building rapport with the Saintess.
"If it won't take too long, I could help you a little."
"Really?"
"...Yes. Haven't I been on the receiving end of help myself?"
At how visibly the Saintess's face brightened, I nodded and gave my answer. Stepping outside today had been chance, and crossing paths with the Saintess again had been chance as well. If this coincidence repeated itself enough times, wouldn't that be what people called fate? It wasn't a bad thought. If anything, it felt like something I could look on positively. Even if it was, in the end, nothing more than a flimsy excuse.