𝓕ᵃᵗʰᵉʳ'ˢ 𝓟ᵉʳᶠᵉᶜᵗ 𝓛ⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ 𝓖ⁱʳˡ

II | I

★・・・★

CHAPTER — I
part two

YOUR MOTHER nodded enthusiastically, "I can't believe you already heard about us, we only arrived yesterday!"

It felt weird, you tried to brush it off, thinking you were just on edge.

"We are a very involved community."

"This is reassuring," she exhaled, "If I am honest, I was worried the church wouldn't be very active, since this is a pretty small village."

Father Fushiguro didn't seem to mind your mother's misconceptions and chuckled instead, glancing briefly at you with hooded eyes before continuing, "News travel fast here. People love to talk."

He conversed easily with your mother, he sounded like he had a lot of experience entertaining meaningless talk with people.

Suddenly, the door opened again and more people were coming in. There was a boy with short peach-colored hair, wearing a red hoodie and simple jeans, followed by a girl with short brown hair, who was wearing a plain white dress. They looked like they were about your age.

Relief washed over you when you saw an adult walking closely behind them. He was a tall man with ashy blond hair, pushed back, with a few strands falling on either sides of his face, his cheekbones were high and hollowed, his jaw sharp but his eyes looked unfocused and tired. He walked in an all grey tailored suit with a black shirt buttoned right up to his neck. He seemed to be missing a couple nights of sleep, judging by the heavy bags under his eyes and his slow place of walking, however, this did not make him look any less attractive.

The three of them bowed to Father Fushiguro who nodded at them, before giving you and your mother a look.

The boy and the girl bowed again at your mother, both of their faces expressionless with their eyes were cast on you, giving you a short, but intense once-over before their gaze shifted to Father Fushiguro's, whose lips were still curved in a sinful smile. You awkwardly bent over to bow as well, as a greeting.

"It was pleasure meeting you," Father Fushiguro concluded, smoothing down the wrinkles of his shirt, "Please, do stay afterwards, I'd like to present you to some of my friends." he finished after casting you one last lingering look.

"We appreciate your hospitality." Your mother then turned to you, eyes sparkling with satisfaction and enthusiasm - she then looked surprised when she noticed the lack of excitement in yours.

"Are you okay ?"

★・・・★

You were okay, at least.

Your nerves had calmed down, a little. You still did not trust Father Fushiguro and still felt uncomfortable, sitting on a bench at the very back, next to your mother with your legs shut tight, your back straight and your entire body tense. However, seeing that there were a lot of people, and that nothing bad had happened, yet, you allowed yourself to slightly sink into your seat with a slow exhale. There was no room left to sit, so a few people had to stand up against the wall. You really hadn't ever seen this many people in a church before, and it lifted your spirit.

Maybe you were really just being dramatic. You were definitely a bit judgmental, that you admit, the community seems to be plenty involved, albeit the lack of warmth and personality of the place. With this many believers at one place, you really couldn't find anything else to fault. Guilt and shame swirled in your stomach as you remembered what you first thought of this place. This is something you were going with to the grave.

Father Fushiguro's preaching was admirable.

His voice was loud and clear as he spoke. He made you want to listen to him. Your heart beat a little faster, and you didn't know if it was in excitement or fear.

Everyone was silent. During the entire hour you'd been listening to him you weren't able to shake off this feeling of dread prickling at your skin.

You didn't know why looking at him made you feel so tense. It wasn't really, leg-shaking fear that you were feeling yet, only some kind mistrust, crawling on you and you couldn't ignore it, it stayed there, at the corner of your mind, even as you closed your eyes to pray, his voice resonating in your ears.

You didn't trust him. Although he hadn't even given you any reason not to trust him, yet.

You were not making sense, you were aware of it.

He announced that you were going to sing, and you stood up on shaky legs, opening your hymn book and sliding through numerous pages.

You suddenly froze.

You could feel the shiver racking through your entire frame the second his eyes slid to you.

Fear was curling at your throat, rendering you unable to sing out a single word and you stood there, motionless, as Father Fushiguro eyed you down, he was not singing, either, having left his place to another priest much less charismatic than him that you had barely noticed.

He held eye contact with you for long, painful, seconds and it was with a choked whine that you understood that he must be aware of how he was making you feel. Yet it didn't seem to bother him, in fact, he seemed to revel in it.

But why ? Until then you thought you just had something against the man, you thought that you were overreacting—though, you were not sure anymore.

You don't know what you were supposed to feel.

He cocked an eyebrow up and with his index he pointed to your hymn book. You felt your skin grow hot.

You were not singing. You didn't know why it embarrassed so much, it must have been because you usually were the one to show others the example. You were the one that sang louder than the others, for them to copy you when they were not sure how they were supposed to sing. That was because you knew most—if not all songs from your hymn book, you had learned them when you were young and had been proudly reciting them ever since.

You looked down, but still felt the weight of his gaze on you. You swallowed down your saliva with a gulp and parted your lips to prepare yourself to start singing. The words came out strained, low and pathetic as you felt your stomach swirl and churn in anxiety. What used to feel natural suddenly felt hard and stressful.

The rest passed in a blur, you were barely paying attention, instead you were focusing on Father Fushiguro, but not actively listening to him, as he gave everyone his thanks for their attention and wished them a good Sunday. That's when you relaxed, slightly, it was all over now.

You picked up your bag and stood up once again.

"Lovely, wasn't it ?" Your mother exhaled and reached for her bag as well. "We're safe now, sweetie." she continued with a strangely omniscient tone and you looked up at her, confused. Her eyes crinkled as she smiled and gently grabbed your shoulder. "Let's go see Father Fushiguro. I want to say goodbye." You could see her eyes sparkling.

Your stomach sank.

★・・・★

mmh