Saint's Prison - Chapter 105

God’s Pastime

Walking through the corridor.

The inorganic sound of my footsteps on the cobblestones echoes back. The rapidity of the tapping tells me how frantic I am.

Exiting the dimly lit monastery, I pass through the herb garden. I cross the vineyard and head towards the brewery.

Reaching the well beside the brewery, I breathe a sigh of relief. Here, with the brewery wall as a barrier, I shouldn’t attract any attention. With that thought, the tension drains from my body.

After parting with Simeon-san, I fled… No, I actually did escape. From that oppressive place, from the fleeting glimpse of those dim eyes Simeon-san showed me, I just ran away.

I draw water from the well.

Looking into the bucket, I’m startled by the reflection of a man with lifeless eyes and a cruel expression. After a moment, I realize it’s my own reflection and become even more disturbed.

“…You really have a terrible face, you know.”

I talk to myself.

I’m not expecting a response. No matter how much I seek, none will come. Yet, I couldn’t help but speak. Pathetic. Beyond redemption.

I curse under my breath, and then I curse again. The first curse is directed at myself, and the second at this world of Stonehurst.

Oh, I resent you, God. The world you created lacks even a shred of kindness; it’s a failure. What joy did you find in creating such a world? For some lofty ideal, for boundless philanthropy, or was it just to pass the time? If it’s the latter, are you innocently enjoying watching people fight, lament, laugh, and cry? You detestable creature with a taste for the macabre!

I mentally repeat insults that would make the monks faint, and then I click my tongue at myself for venting my anger at God.

I roughly run my hands through my hair. Calm down. In an attempt to shake off the agitation, I plunge my face into the bucket. The well water is shockingly cold, but it somehow settles my spirit.

―Don’t run, Ando Ryu.

If you’ve decided to protect, then struggle until the end. You don’t want to live with regrets anymore, right? Then fulfill that role with your own hands, not anyone else’s.

“…Ask, and it shall be given to you; seek, and you shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. For everyone that asks receives, and he that seeks finds, and to him that knocks it shall be opened.”

I hum the words from the Gospel of Matthew. They’re a long-winded explanation of the obvious conclusion that nothing can be gained by those who do not act. Yet, it’s precisely because they’re so obvious that they resonate straight to the heart.

“Well, even if I say ‘act’, honestly, there are too many unknowns about what to do. Ah, no, yeah. That’s right… Maybe I should try to organize my thoughts about what’s happened so far.”

I slick back my wet hair and sit on the edge of the well.

***

(―First, as for why I wandered into this Stonehurst)

Most likely, Shizuyo is involved somehow. If I believe the content of the dream I saw, Shizuyo’s wish to be with me is at the core of it all.

I had been turning a blind eye. But I can’t move forward without facing it. I steel myself against the feeling of being crushed.

…Let’s be clear.

Shizuyo harbors a strong obsession for me. It’s not a sunny, warm affection like parental love. It’s an intense, burning, deep… yandere love, even beyond death.

I saw Shizuyo as a sister, and she saw me as a man. That was all. Yes, that was the whole story.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

I press down on my throbbing heart.

I take a deep breath and exhale. I relax my unconsciously clenched fist and reassure myself that everything is okay.

First of all, how could Shizuyo, a dead person, interfere with me?

For that, let’s tentatively adopt Johanna’s idea that “Stonehurst is a place where life and death intersect.”

She says that this place is a world where people live their lives, but at the same time, it’s a separate realm isolated from the secular world. The ambiguous boundary allows the dead to contact the living.

Thinking up to this point, I feel a strange catch.

(…Huh? Wait, wait a minute. If that’s the case, does that not mean that Ryohgo Village also meets those conditions?)

A village secluded from the outside world by deep mountains. And the people living in it. In other words, Ryohgo Village is also a place where life and death intersect. That’s why Shizuyo, a dead person, could intervene with me, a living person.

―But then, I think.

I should have left the village. I descended the mountain, got on a train, fell asleep, and when I woke up, I was collapsed in the chapel. I didn’t come here from Ryohgo Village.

(…I descended the mountain. Was that really reality?)

The ringing in my ears on the mountain. The voice of Shizuyo I heard. If at that moment, I was being lured into another world? If descending the mountain itself was a dream, and I never actually left. Unwittingly, I had wandered into another realm, spirited away. It might be a stretch, but thinking this way seems to provide an explanation.

The next issue is why Shizuyo brought me to Stonehurst. To delve deeper, why did it have to be here, of all places?

Frankly, I have no idea why. Was it by chance, or is there some connection? …There’s no point agonizing over what I don’t know, so I’ll set that aside for now.

(…It’s all unclear what’s reality and what’s a dream)

Is reality a dream? Or is the dream the reality? The more I think, the less I understand. However, that’s a trivial matter. What’s most important, whether this is reality or a dream, is that I, who am worrying, thinking, and suffering, surely exist here and now.

Indeed, I think, therefore I am, Cogito ergo sum.

I must stay strong, or I’ll surely be defeated. To not let go of what’s precious, I gently grasp my own trembling fingertips.