With a great groan of shifting wood, the horde of exceedingly well-dressed cultists began shuffling politely down the rows of pews. The man behind Issei kindly aided him in shifting when his feet felt glued to the floor. What a nice old man. Issei conveyed his thanks through abstract curses at him, his penis, his family, his friends, and his entire lineage as he was less-than gently buffeted down the rows.
Freed awaited at the top of the room, arms outstretched and head thrown back as people began lining up before him. Issei lost sight of him after that, just the splash of water and a droning hum in a foreign tongue.
And then he was lost behind bodies, and Issei was stuck between some very old men enthusiastically greeting each other.
"Duvall! You salty bastard, how've you been!"
Issei's neighbor chuckled ominously, vaguely threatening. "It's good to see you again. I've been busy starting up that damn boutique for my little girl André, you know? She wants her little princess all decked out."
The old man in front of Issei chortled, twining his hands into his raggedy beard and tugging it in a vaguely menacing way. "I know the feeling, my little boy's all grown up, you know! Asked me for a co-payment on his mortage!" The raggedy man looked deeply proud.
The gentle clap sounded like gunshots in Issei's ear. "Speaking of which, how's your son?" The more cleanly shaved man behind Issei asked.
The scruffy man shrugged carelessly. "Eh."
The old men chuckled and huffed deep in their throats, and Issei shivered a bit. His movement caught their eyes however, pale blue darting down to look at him.
"Who's this one?" The scruffy one asked. "Guest o' yours?"
The clean one clapped Issei's shoulder roughly, buckling his knees. Issei struggled to keep still, widening his mouth into a smile as he began frantically looking for an escape. "New boy. Good soul, if a bit soft up top."
"God accepts all kinds." Scruffy said soberly, reaching over and patting Issei's whole shoulder simultaneously with his meaty hands. He looked Issei in the eyes, speaking slowly in japanese. "You are...fresh here?" His accent was atrocious, but Issei was somewhat touched by the mediocre effort. "You wait a long time for...Saving?"
"Ah, no." Issei blushed. "I just arrived." Ah! He'd always wanted to say that!
Not like this though.
The old men around him began to chuckle welcomingly.
Not like this at all. Issei assumed they were saying something, but he couldn't make it out through his tears of stupidity. He couldn't be here. He didn't want to be here, with these crazy old people.
He had to talk to her. Yuuma. She'd know. She could explain.
"Have you seen a girl?" He pressed. "A black-haired girl. Tall. Big tits. Pretty. Smiles a lot."
"What's he asking?"
Scruffy scratched his chin. "I think he's asking about Raynare. She mentioned guests. But he keeps saying she smiles a lot?"
The old man shrugged behind Issei, hand briefly pushing down even harder. "Maybe she gives a shit about them?"
"God willing." Scruffy cleared his throat. "She...Raynare? She is here. Sky-high."
"Upstairs." Issei corrected automatically. He shot Scruffy a mental thumbs up. Not bad for a dandy old man, soon he too could converse with grandson with the hip lingo. Fighto, old man!
Issei wasn't gonna be here for that though.
This Issei needed-
A bang echoed, a wet splat as something fell over. The crowd grew silent even as others grew louder.
"I'm telling you, I smelled devil on him. He was a devil, probably. Totally-"
"-he was with me all week! You can't-"
"-can't take any chances. He was full of sin, trust me-"
-needed to not be here.
Issei crouched a bit, going low even as everyone else went high to spot what was going on. Idiots! If everyone all went on tiptoes, then no one could see! It bought Issei time to move though and he took it gratefully, sliding out of line and behind the massive statue. The men above did not notice however, transfixed on the proceedings with something in their eyes Issei couldn't make out. Even their idle spinning seemed to slow as they stared down at the crowd.
The crowd was silent, watching as Freed offered an apologetic high five.
A high five withdrawn as soon as the priest after him went for it, leaving the poor man standing with his arm up.
Freed spat to the side. "You fucking idiot. You slackjawed moron. Garbage. Die and redeem your entire bloodline from the shame of being that fucking beta."
One man hesitantly reached over to pat the poor churchman on the shoulder, but hastily withdrew his hand afterwards, as though fearing some contagion.
Issei giggled madly, and slid further back.
The view of the church was wider here, the farther he went into the shadows far behind. It was smaller than he'd expected, a thin ledge running behind the statue, with recessed walls to either side, leading to the back room he'd followed R-Yuuma with his eyes into.
The crowd was getting louder, jeering and catcalling, a deep rush sweeping over them, a giddy, thoughtless sort of energy. It was fast, almost practiced how easily they slipped into the baying. Issei shrunk into the wall, feeling it firmly against his back, supporting him as he slowly slid closer to the ground. It was dusty, back here. Cobwebs and mothballs danced past him as his breath stirred up at least a few weeks worth of neglect. Issei began breathing very shallowly, trying desperately to not breathe it in, mind idly questioning if it was possible to catch some gross disease this way. It was wasn't it? Bacteria and mold or something. Gross! Gross! Gross! How disgusting! He couldn't stand it, crawling quickly to the side, but his limbs were lead, trailing behind and weighing him down.
He felt something sticky enter his mouth, and he nearly shrieked, barely shoving a (filthy!) hand into his mouth and biting down to silence his nerves. His teeth were rattling, chattering, and the pain gnawing at his hand made him withdraw it sharply. He eyed his hand. It was a little bloody.
For a brief, mad moment, he allowed the atmosphere to sway him. The chanting was louder, the cries and adulation echoing, ringing through his head. He wanted to be clean, to simply reach down, and reach into the wound. Shove a finger in, twist, open it more and more, like a mouth, a great gaping maw large enough to swallow him whole, pull the jaws apart, tear the hand off wholly, the ecstacy of freedom from his fleshy prison gripping him and swaying his mind-
He took the last step and collapsed into the back room, barely out of sight of the crowd and dragging himself around the corner. He was sweating, the back of his neck sticky, sweat running down his hair, sticking it into gross spikes that left his scalp visible. The madcap urges left him, drained out with his tension, leaving him shaking. His hands were shaking, he was breathing too deeply.
Keep it together Issei.
He sucked a deep breath in, and raised his head, taking in the small room. It was undecorated,beige in contrast with the elegance of the previous rooms. Even worn and decayed, they held a haunting beauty. The rot melded with the fittings and carvings in a way that harmonized. Incontrast, this room was...barren. Plain. Clay-like walls, a simple color lit up by a single smooth ceiling fixture. A single table sat in the middle, with a vase sitting on it, right in front of a lovely dark wood staircase that wound its way upwards.
He stood slowly, slumped against the wall, energy slowly buoying him as fear rekindled in his gut.
He could still hear them.
He moved across the room as swiftly as he could, occasionally whipping his head around and swearing up and down that the sound had briefly grown louder and approached him from behind. It grew quieter the farther he went, and by the time he placed his hands on the smooth bannister, he might've sworn it was another home entirely.
However, the sound of whispers upstairs pulled him from his idle speculation, his curiosity and desire for answers warring with his self-preservation.
The latter won, in this case. He was in too deep. He needed something to justify this craziness. He had to know. Up and up he went, following the hiss of voices in undertone, until he came upon the top floor, a set of austere rooms with doors ajar. Only one such room was occupied, flashes of black and gold confirming his assumptions of who was inside.
He crept up slowly, then faster, impatience making the floor creak in ways that made him wince. But, he finally stumbled to the door, and pressed his ear to it.
"-too messy!" A somewhat familiar voice said, high pitched and angry. He eventually pinned it to Yuuma, tension frissioning down his back. "What the fuck am I supposed to do?! You saw Freed, the uppity little shit! He's-"
"Lord Azazel trusts you, so much!" A young voice said encouragingly. "I'm really, really sorry, but it's all I have, you know? I was asked to help, but you need to tell me more of what's going on."
"I know." Her voice had softened at the name Azazel, before hardening. "But, did he really send you? Azazel isn't the sort to send middle-management out to handle his problems."
"It would need to be his problem then, hmm?" The childish giggled. "But isn't he being thoughtful? I would be a lot more discreet than one of the fallen!"
"And a lot less useful to boot." Yuuma snarled. "Azazel knows how important this town is! That Satan bitch is down the fucking street, bloody coward that she is! I can't hold this place on my own, her fucking mutt's already tracking down Freed's men, leaving aside that Freed goes through his workers faster than any motherfucker in this whole shithole town!"
There was a brief pause, and Issei leaned back and fanned his face a bit. Whoo, that was kinda hot, if Issei was being honest. She was really sexy when she was intense. He didn't really get what they were talking about, but damn did she seem to care about it.
Maybe if he learned more, he could...
"Mr. Freed is extremely violent, yes, but his talent should be sufficient..." but the response was weak, and Yuuma knew it.
"He's the reason we're being tracked at all! He literally cannot keep it in his pants! Half our operations in the city were blown wide open! He couldn't resist looking for..." She fell silent.
"For the boy? Lady Mittelt did mention that-"
Issei was so goddamn confused. This all sounded like a lot of weird shit that was completely tangential to anything relevant at all. Lord was a weird thing to call someone, was Azazel yakuza?
Was Yuuma yakuza? No, wait, she was living in a church Issei, she was clearly a priest of some kind maybe. God, what the fuck kinda priest was that hot? Was it too late to convert?
His introspection was deep enough to tune out the rest of the sentence, but a loud noise brought him back.
"FUCK her!" The response was so violent that Issei whipped his head away as the sound of something shattering echoed. "Her and the rest of those filthy traitors! They backed down! I'll hunt them down and-"
"She wasn't wrong!" The polite voice protested. "She was in danger! The Gremory rook had approached as-"
A hand reached his shoulder and Issei whipped around, nearly screaming in sudden fear. A gentle hand clapped itself over his mouth, revealing the little nun, Asia, looking at him nervously.
"Why are you-" She began, before her eyes refocused on the room behind Issei.
The room had gone silent.
Asia squeaked, ripping her hand away and dashing into the room, revealing that she'd been so short she'd been only a head taller than him while he was crouching. Issei sat there, briefly stunned, before jerking up and diving into the room after her.
He landed roughly, sliding a bit and scrabbling inside, ankles feeling distinctly cold as they stuck out the door.
The next door opened suddenly, and Issei shot into the fetal position.
"I heard voices." Yuuma's rough voice said.
Issei teared up a bit as his heart shot down his gut and lodged itself somewhere near his pelvis.
"Should I call Freed?" The other voice asked hesitantly.
Terrified, he began sucking his thumb a little for comfort. If Freed came up, it was game over. His hands began shaking again. The darkness was growing closer. He would die. Freed was a monster. He could never walk down a dark alley again, for fear of red eyes opening in the dark.
"..."
Issei trembled a bit more, feeling his throat tighten up more.
"No." The lovely voice said slowly, eventually. "He's probably...preoccupied."
She slowly shut the door behind her with a gentle click, and Issei was left shaking in a ball, arms aching from how hard he'd been clenching his knees.
Eventually, he loosened up enough to let go, and lie on the floor.
The world seemed to spin around him, an age and a half passing before he could even feel his limbs again.
"She's a bad person, isn't she." He whispered.
Gentle padding of feet shook the floor near his head, until Asia squatted down next to his head.
"Please do not hate Miss Raynare." She spoke hesitantly. The words continued to elude him, but her eyes were sincere. "She's...she's not bad. Maybe a little pitiable, is all." She bit her lip, and perhaps she was uncomfortable saying what she had.
Could two people communicate without words, Issei wondered. Who was she worried for, to look so distressed. Him? Or the girl he was rapidly learning he hadn't known at all?
Perhaps it was the latter, as the nun continued to glance up at the door with sad eyes. It wasn't like he knew her either. He didn't know anyone here.
His fist slammed into the floor.
Asia jumped back with a yelp as Issei ground his teeth.
Fucking idiot, what was he doing here?!
He punched the floor again.
What had he been hoping for?!
His fist slammed into the floor again, and this time it hurt so much he collapsed back onto his face, hissing in pain and cradling his hands.
Tears watered his vision, and he rolled back onto his side. Asia showed up in his vision, but this time farther away. She was huddled against the wall, looking at him cautiously.
Ah...had he scared her?
He couldn't tell her he meant no harm after all.
Could two people truly communicate without words?
Worry shown in her eyes, but for whom? Her fingers twisted anxiously, but why? She couldn't meet his eyes, and yet why try to convey something at all?
Even the tightening of his fists caused her to inch backwards. She didn't flinch or look scared, so she hadn't been attacked before. She was simply...unused to being confronted.
"I'm sorry." He said shamefully. What right did he have to hurt her, even emotionally? To judge her or Yuuma with so little to go on?
"Are you apologizing...mister?" Her words trailed off. Issei's shoulders hunched. "I'm sorry." He repeated.
She stared at him, earnestly, and he couldn't bear to even try to express that he didn't get it. That he simply couldn't understand what she wanted to say.
She bit her lip. "You, you seem like a kind man?" She said hesitantly. "You don't need to apologize for anything! I just..." She hunched in on herself.
"I want to go home." She whispered. "What am I doing here... Mother Griselda, what do I do...?" Her back began shaking, trembling a little
He wanted to go home. He wanted to be safe, see his parents downstairs, steal a cookie, call his friends, and know school was the next day. He wanted to watch an anime, eat garbage, hit on girls and play eroge. He wanted to be home and safe, so fiercely that even he could empathize with the little nun.
Issei hesitantly reached out, and patted her a little on the shoulder. A little. He tried to will his condolences at her as well, but dear god did crying girls terrify him. He still had no idea if he'd been forgiven, standing awkwardly as Asia crumpled in on herself.
Did he do this?
Doubtful. She looked alone, to be honest. Scared and lonely.
He patted her on the shoulder, one more time. For the road. And again, for thanks. One more time, 'cause she was cute, and another because she was turning red.
Eventually, she turned to face him, furiously rubbing at her face. Her puffy cheeks were blotchy, and swollen, but she'd firmed her stance.
"You need to run." She said firmly. "I...you, you are a good person. You shouldn't be here." She seized his hand, and began dragging him to the window.
He stumbled along behind, until he eventually came to a halt staring out the window. "The stars are nice." He said lamely, deeply unsettled. Was she an astronomer or something?
She began furiously pointing at the glass. "Open! Go!" She said urgently, growing more and more firm in her words. "Run away, please!" She seized the window and hauled it upwards.
She turned to look at him expectantly, and Issei immediately grasped what was going on.
"Oh hell no." He backed away, shaking his head. "Uh-uh, nuh-uh. That's a two story drop, not a chance."
"Please!" Her voice grew pleading. "Just go! Freed will hurt you, like he does the others! You, you're not one of them, so please escape!"
Issei, despite himself, stepped forwards, leaning, and bracing himself against the frame. "Are-are you sure about this?" His voice warbled a bit. "Could I take, like a ladder?"
"Let me save at least one life this night." She was almost whispering now, and god help him but maybe they didn't need words to communicate. Issei could feel that, at least, she meant him well. He chanced another look outside.
It wasn't that high up.
He hefted himself up onto it, and prepared to drop. And yet, a thought held him back.
"W-what about you?" He turned a little, half-squatting on the sill. "They're scary you know?" Death death death the halls. "C-come with me!" He blurted, offering her his hand.
But she shook her head and stepped away. "They'll punish me, but it's not too serious." She smiled weakly. "But if I go, you'll die. Freed will kill you, and you have no way to escape or live." She took his hand, and for one brief moment he hoped.
Then she folded it against him, and shoved him off.
For a brief moment, he swallowed his heart.
Then he landed with a sick thump, bouncing a bit, and all he felt was pain. His spine was in agony, radiating through his whole back. He arched his spine, hissing, and coughed violently.
He survived! How nice.
"Go!" The harsh whisper came from above.
He slowly stood, knees wobbling, sharp pain lancing through him if he moved too quickly. Eventually he straightened, and turned to look back, craning his neck. It was shaded, that high above, the sun already beyond the horizon. He started taking slow steps back, one after another, eyes fixed on the windowsill.
He found himself jogging before long, and running, before panic seized his heart, and turned back.
A long moment passed, before hand poked out, and began violently jabbing. When he hesitated, it jabbed even harder.
He let his heart carry him, and he ran. Because god help him, he never wanted to return.
He wanted to go home.
The pavement was hard, and his clothes uncomfortably bit into his legs and ass. He could barely breathe, and his back ached like hell. But he ran and kept running, Asia fading from mind, to be replaced with pounding blood and creeping shadows behind every corner. Exhaustion tore at him, and tears threatened to fall when he realized how far he still had to go.
Boost
The strength rushed back, and he took off, twice as fast.
"Chuu, boya." Laughter and the weight of cold steel against his head.
His legs pumped without even thinking.
He ran.
Away.
Far, far away from that hell, he ran, ghostly laughter pounding in his ears, faster than he ever had.