The large brass doors that belonged to the man of poor taste slammed shut. My ears were ringing from the impact.
For a man who relied on me to help with one of his greatest assets, he sure knew how to make me feel appreciated.
"Haa…."
An involuntary sigh escaped my lips. I hung my head low to the ground as I took heavy steps. Even though the air out here felt so light and refreshing, I felt as if a heavy weight was forcibly placed onto me.
Such was life.
"I take it that went poorly?" A voice belonging to Sister Claire reached my ears.
I looked up to see her standing next to a metal pillar that divided the courtyard from the hallway. She stood there, letting the artificial wind play through her long brown hair. The false moonlight shimmered softly off her vestments.
There was a mocking smile on her face that betrayed the concern in her tone. In response to her question, I shot her a dark scowl.
It was unclear whether she understood the intent I was going for, as her smile faded into an exasperated grimace that seemed to convey, "I knew it."
With that, she quickly plastered a smile back onto her face and walked up to me.
I suppose plastered wasn't the correct way to describe it. It looked genuine, so much so that it was infectious.
With a pat on my back, she tilted her head a little, that smile gleaming from ear to ear.
"Chin up. You've got a long path ahead of you."
Now I couldn't tell if she was mocking me or being serious. Another sigh left my lips as I looked up. I returned her smile, feeling slightly more energized than before.
Looking at her like this, she was very pretty. I wonder how I can give Muller the push he needs to look at her rather than Margaret.
"You're plotting something in that head of yours," Claire said, wagging her finger at me. "Whatever it is, I refuse. The thrill comes from the challenge, doesn't it?"
"I suppose it does," I said.
I looked away. Was I really that easy to read?
"But," she said, her voice dropping low to a murmur. I looked back at her to find that she was playing with her index fingers, pushing them together. "Thank you for the thought."
Sister Claire slapped her face a few times before pumping both her fists up. "Okay!" She said cheerfully, "Mind following me?"
I nodded as she took the lead.
The chatter that once filled the halls and courtyard died down as the night grew older. The only ones to roam the building besides us were the armed clergy. They each carried a metal staff, each built around a single-chamber steam cell design. What they controlled must be lethal, as the outside of the staff looks completely harmless.
As they moved down the halls, passing on their patrol, they gave Claire a warm smile. But the moment their eyes met mine, they glared. Some tried to intimidate me with their staffs, while others gave no reaction.
"Hehehe." Claire gave a soft giggle as she slowed her pacing, walking side to side with me. From here, I could see the mischievous smile that lined her lips.
"You love seeing me suffer," I said.
"That's not the case at all." She said with a grin. "Father Muller said that you were easy to toy with, so I wanted to test that."
Of course…
"But," she continued. "Want me to give you a massage? You've got this tense look in your eyes. It's worrying."
"With all the stunts you pulled today, I'll pass."
"Bummer," she said disheartenedly. "I guess I'll just teach that girl…Rinne, was it? I'll just teach Rinne how to give massages."
As we approached the group house, a figure standing by the door came into view. From this distance, it seemed like a woman, though with one eye, it was hard to tell. They were leaning against the wall; their heads seemed to follow us.
"Hmm…" Claire said, "I feel as if someone is getting the wrong idea about us."
"Why do you say that?"
The moment those words left my mouth, I heard a faint voice carried by the wind.
"This man cannot be serious." The coldness of the voice belonged to none other than Anya. "I wasted my time waiting for this playboy…" she muttered.
"I see what you mean," I said. Claire looked at me with a confused expression.
"Really?" she asked. "I honestly thought you were too dense to figure out why that woman was glaring at us so hard."
"I-huh?" I choked on my words. "I just have good hearing, that's all. Besides, that woman has a nasty habit of talking under her breath."
"I see you have been busy," Anya said the second we approached the very front of the building. Her expression wasn't pleasant in the slightest; in fact, I'd argue she was ready to kill me. She broke eye contact with me and turned around. "Once you're done getting your fill for the night, meet me in the medical room."
She said nothing else as she opened the door, disappearing into the building.
"…Sara…stop….running…"
"Leave…me…alone…"
My ears picked up faint voices coming from a room inside the building. From sound alone, one was Lilas. Seeing as she named Sara, the other voice must have belonged to her.
A loud crashing sound followed as a blue light flickered in one window of the house.
This time, it was Sister Claire who bore the defeated look. She slumped her head low as she shook it. "Goddess, please calm her down." She offered a prayer.
"Does…Lilas do this often?" I asked, rubbing the sister's back.
She said nothing but reached into her vestments. Claire produced a small, worn notebook. The edges of the book were covered with colored page markers, with blue more noticeable than the others. She handed me the book.
I hesitantly took it from her hands. If this held information about the church or her personal diary, I didn't feel it was meant for my eyes to see.
"Are you sure?" I asked her.
"I gave you my veil, didn't I?"
I was unsure whether that counted as permission, but she seemed uninterested in stopping me from looking at the contents.
Looking at the cover, I noticed that each of the page markers had a single word on it. For the numerous blues, that word was a name.
Lilas.
I flipped through the book, only looking at the pages that were related to Lilas to keep Claire's privacy.
Each page detailed the destruction caused by Lilas, what led up to Lilas destroying it, and how much it would cost to repair or replace.
To say she was a walking hazard was a compliment, as she was much worse than that. From church property to city property, anything Lilas had in her sight, she used as a tool for her artifact.
I closed the book and handed it back to Claire. There wasn't much I could say, but I completely understood the headache she was dealing with.
"I…said…stop…running…"
Lilas's voice filled the silent air.
"And with thaaaaat!" Claire straightened her posture and looked at me with a forced smile. "I will go check on the children. They must have awoken from Lilas's recklessness."
"You go ahead and do that," I said. "I'll go check in with Lilas and Sara."
"Thank you." Claire gave a deep bow before disappearing.
Alone at the front of the building, I was reminded of how big this group home was. Size alone made it look like a school, but up close it felt like a mess.
As with many buildings built when the Middle Core was known as the Upper Core, the building's age was evident. The exterior was layered on, each new addition looking more like an improvised add-on than part of an official building plan.
The top of the group home carried the embodiment of the building's improvised details: the bell tower. For who knows how long, the bell has been broken. Now serving a visual role rather than a utility one.
"I wonder how many times it was cut from its place and moved up?" I said aloud. I never really thought about how inconvenient this building is.
The inside…wasn't much better. The first floor was noticeably much shorter than the upper floors, and the layout was more controlled. Once you go up the stairs to the upper floors, things were less clear where they should belong.
I took a deep breath as I entered the building. It's been a while since I stepped foot into the group house. The last time was when Rinara and I were still children.
"Sara! Stop!"
"Mister!"
Soft pattering of bare feet hitting the metal ground came towards me as Sara ran between my legs and hugged me from behind, her arms shaking. She was dressed in a fresh, clean set of pajamas.
"Sara—oh, it's you."
Close behind was Lilas, who stopped in her tracks the moment her eye met mine. In her hand was a small sleeping cap that matched Sara's pajamas.
Lilas glared at me before her gaze shifted toward my weapon. Then, once again, back at me, her gaze grew sharper. Looks like she could give Margaret a run for her money. But to me, Lilas was nothing more than a child.
Those who act like one will be treated as one.
"Sister Claire…" Her voice was empty, void of any energetic emotion she once had. "You know her?"
The question itself was less out of curiosity than it was a demand for an answer.
"Not really," unfazed by her attempt to intimidate me into answering, I spoke calmly. However, I shouldn't get too cocky. If Muller is to be trusted, this woman knows several ways to get a man to talk. "I just met her today."
"…"
It was obvious that she did not believe me. I found it funny that people are so quick to believe a lie but can toss the truth without a second thought.
She held out her right hand. As she did, Sara, who was still shaking, moved between us with her little arms stretched out. Sara didn't say a word, but she was loud enough for both Lilas and me to understand.
Lilas's expression softened. "That veil, do you know the meaning behind it?" she asked. Her voice was still emotionless, but there was no longer malice in the way she looked at me.
"Trust between a member of the church and an outsider," I answered.
"Do you understand why I don't believe you?"
"…"
I watched as she rubbed her wrists. If that was why she was worried, then she really is more childish than she lets on. Though, even if I were to tell Claire about the scars, she seems to already know, or at least that's the impression I got from her.
"Relax," I said, "otherwise that cute face is gonna end up looking like the saint's."
I gave Sara a gentle pat on her head as I gently nudged her to the side. She looked at me with a sleepy expression as she understood. She put down her arms and moved to the side of the hall.
Lilas's posture stiffened as I moved closer to her. She stepped back, holding out her right hand, ready to snap her fingers.
Unlike before, where she did it without a second's thought, she hesitated. Her eye locked not on me, but rather on my weapon. She lowered her hand.
She looked away, a somewhat shameful look in her eyes. "Forgive me for my shamelessness." She said. "Please don't tell Sister Claire."
I stopped, feeling slightly awkward myself. It seems that she holds Claire pretty high up there, despite outranking her. I smiled and gave her a pat on the back.
Lilas looked up, surprised.
"You did good work today," I said with a welcoming smile. "You saved the people I care about and me. For that, thank you."
I stepped back, giving Lilas a moment to process what had just happened. Her posture relaxed a little, and her face turned a slight shade of pink.
"O-of c-course. Ahem!" she cleared her throat before speaking like a priestess of the church. "It is only natural that I would help save a few stranded lambs from the jaws of the dark wolf."
"No need to put on an act," I said, resulting in Lilas blinking a few times. "Just believe I have this token of trust does not mean I'll tell her everything that you do. Just be yourself."
Lilas's shoulders slumped down as her head drooped low. Was that not the right response I should have given?
"I see…" The emotion in her voice was once again gone. She looked back up at me with a lifeless stare in her one eye. "Well…good night." She then turned to face Sara. "Come on…let's go to bed…"
Sara reluctantly followed Lila, and they disappeared into one of the rooms.
I could not help but have a bitter aftertaste linger in my mouth. Was that really the right thing to say to her? Well, in any case, Sara was with her, so I guess I have nothing to worry about for the time being.