Wasn’t This a Night Game

It’s the Saint Who’s Bad

After the procedure, the Imperial family returned to the palace with blissful faces.

The Empress, throughout the journey, held her daughters close, showering them with unrefined kisses, while the Emperor clutched their hands tight.

Even after returning to the palace, the four were inseparable, a single, entangled mass.

“My beloved daughters. My darling Iomene. Almene.”

The two Princesses smiled faintly at the Emperor’s unrestrained declarations of love.

“The words ‘I love you’. I like them so much.”

“Please say them often to Iomene, Abama. She must have been so lonely.”

“A hundred times. A thousand times more, I’ll say it. I love you, Iomene. I love you.”

Iomene quietly gazed at her aging father before embracing him tightly.

The very one who had ordered that she be given pain for sixteen years.

But having inherited Almene’s memories, she knows now.

How much he suffered during that time.

And what it means that the Empire’s ruler chose her over the Empire itself.

Carefully, Iomene nestled herself between her father and mother, indulging in all the coddling she had missed.

“I want to eat dessert.”

“Any dessert you desire, I shall let you eat it all.”

“I want to wander the gardens barefoot.”

“As much as you like. You are free to roam every garden in the Imperial palace, for as long as you wish!”

“Tell me you love me, every day from now on.”

“So it is. Iomene. Whatever you desire, this father will grant it.”

The Emperor, embracing Iomene tightly, spoke thus with tear-filled eyes.

*Whatever* she desired.

Iomene, to those words, looked silently towards Almene.

Almene’s expression flushed momentarily, then she gave the slightest of nods.

Iomene, her face brightening with happiness at the consent of her other half, gazed at her father.

“Papa. There’s something I *really* want to have.”

A tone bordering on the impolite, one a princess should never use.

Though the words seemed lacking in dignity, the Emperor’s expression remained unconcerned.

“What is it, Iomene? Tell me anything.”

“A son-in-law. Can I choose him?”

With a blank, innocent face, Iomene spoke those words.

And, of course, the Emperor

“Of course, my child.”

Granted his permission with a smile.

*

Iomene and Almene had departed.

Now, as princesses and saints, the two would surely continue to live nobly.

All the better, in a way.

Now, alone, I can quietly prepare to take my leave.

While Magister Jürgen tuned my psychic amplifier, there remained still a little time.

The time between, my last moments as a Saint.

I piled up good deeds, healing the sick and injured who came seeking forgiveness from the Goddess.

Magister Jürgen, true to his word, would come and observe my acts of healing between amplifier adjustments, then depart.

“How long, Magister?”

“I’ll manage something within five days. I’d make it sooner, but this is such a delicate antique.”

Five days.

It would suffice.

Within those five days, I searched for a city where I could disappear – a metropolis with weak influence from the Order, but decent security.

Erfa didn’t come to see me anymore.

Having been rejected so openly, face to face, why would she?

My heart ached whenever I thought of her, but this was for the best.

If she hated me, she wouldn’t long for me after I vanished.

Now, I could truly leave with a light heart.

A light heart…

Just as I was about to leave.

“Saint! We’re here!”

“Saint! We missed you!!”

One morning.

The twin princesses ambushed me without warning.

His Imperial Majesty. Without even the Empress, and with only a bare minimum of guards, just the two of them, mind you.

“Princess… are you feeling alright?”

Now that my awareness had returned, I really ought to correct that way of speaking to me, like I was some puppy.

When I cautiously said that, Almene and Iomene burst out laughing at the same time.

The two of them quietly approached me, then nestled right into my embrace, both at once.

“When it’s just us, call us by our names.”

“Princess, what Princess? Names. Call us by our names.”

The two of them looked up at me.

Their expressions were full of mischief.

“Iomene. Almene.”

I complied with their request.

“I’m glad you’re better. I hope only happiness fills your lives from now on.”

At those words, the two of them clung to me even more tightly.

But I carefully pushed them away.

“I’m busy with work today. I don’t think I can spend time with you. You’re both probably busy yourselves, so why did you come here?”

At that, Iomene wordlessly pulled a bottle of liquor from a bag she had prepared.

“Let’s have a birthday party! Saint!”

“We wanted the Saint to celebrate our birthday with us.”

A birthday party? What was she talking about?

“The day the Saint saved me was our 19th birthday. I figured alcohol would be perfect for a coming-of-age birthday party. Don’t you think so, Saint?”

A thing to celebrate.

But I’m someone who’ll vanish in five days.

What good is stacking up memories like this?

After I disappear, I don’t plan on returning as the Saint again.

Sweet memories with someone you’ll never meet again just leave your heart aching.

That’s why I tried to refuse their request.

With the coldest, most off-putting tone I could manage.

“Like I said, I’m busy with work today. I’d appreciate it if you returned to the Imperial Palace. A birthday party would be much grander and better held in the palace…”

No.

I looked into Iomene’s eyes.

Tears welling up, half-formed, a sorrowful expression.

I suddenly feel like I’ve become an irredeemable piece of garbage.

“No? Really?”

“Getting the procedure was so hard on me. Saint.”

“It’s not a big deal, we just wanted to drink and chat. Saint. It’s not that big a deal, right? Just for a bit. We won’t keep you long.”

“Iomene has never had a birthday party in sixteen years. This is the first birthday party she’s ever had. Saint. And it’s still not okay?”

The two princesses are pressuring me so systematically, like they’ve prepared a script or something.

Goddamn it.

This shouldn’t be happening…

The words that she’s never had a birthday party in sixteen years stick in my craw.

Besides, didn’t I know full well how lonely Iome had been, all alone in that detached palace?

A child who’d known nothing but loneliness and pain her whole life was asking to have her birthday celebrated for the first time.

Consideration.

Agony.

Wandering thoughts.

And finally, the words that escaped my lips were these:

“Just for today. Don’t come looking for me after today.”

Their faces lit up instantly.

“Saint, I like you so much, truly!”

“I’m so happy!”

Looking down at the two of them, nestled snugly in my arms, I could only manage a bitter smile.

“If you held a party at the Imperial Palace, it could have been so much bigger, so much grander. His Imperial Majesty and the Empress would have put on a lavish affair, I bet? I haven’t even prepared gifts.”

Iome shook her head at my words.

“Saint’s very being is a gift to me. And besides, as time goes on, Alme and I will be forced to attend banquets until we’re sick of them.”

“Iome is right. I also want a simple party, just the three of us. It’s much more atmospheric, isn’t it?”

Well.

What can I do?

I have to do what the birthday girls want.

“Alright. Let’s do whatever you two want.”

And so, a drinking spree began.

Iomene and Almene had prepared rather thoroughly.

Simple snacks. Even the drinking cups were set out in a flash.

And the three of us began sipping the quite high-proof, expensive liquor.

“This booze is pretty strong.”

“Feels like my throat’s on fire.”

“My head’s a little dizzy too. Haha!”

They said that, but both Almene and Iomene looked perfectly fine.

Meanwhile, I could feel the liquor creeping up on me, my face growing red.

I never thought those two were like that…their tolerance is damn strong.

“I want to know about the Saint.”

After the gentle atmosphere had settled, and glasses had been emptied and refilled a few times…

Suddenly, Princess Almene asked that, in a soft, cushiony voice, like she was doing some kind of ASMR.

She wants to know about me.

What is there to know?

I’m really nothing special.

“Jericho Amael. The incapable youngest son of a family of prophets, unable to prophesy. One day, I suddenly went to the slums and started healing sick people, and somehow ended up here – a lucky, unfortunate b*stard. That’s me. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“I’m curious. Saint, isn’t it tiring for you to heal people and help them? I think it would be, so I wouldn’t want to do it.”

Iomene asked that, in a more casual, familiar tone, distinct from Almene’s.

Tiring, huh.

No.

It isn’t *hard*.

Fulfilling, more like.

Fixing folks, seeing them happy ’bout it.

That ain’t *hard*.

It’s why the Goddess wants to throw me in Hell, not knowin’ that’s the pain.

“Ain’t *hard*. Just bein’ where I don’t want to be, that’s what gets ya.”

“Then where does Saint-nim wish to be?”

That’s Almené’s voice, all polite.

Sound the same, those two, but you can tell ’em apart by the speakin’, yeah? Polite or not.

Anyways, where *I* want to be…

“Some peaceful place.”

Where I ain’t gotta sweat about goin’ to Hell.

Where the folks bowin’ and thankin’ me, they ain’t gonna turn meaner than dogs the second they find out my secret.

That’s where I wanna be.

“Ain’t it peaceful here?”

“Not for me, it ain’t.”

The bottle’s gettin’ low pretty quick, huh?

The drink’s hittin’.

Coulda wiped it clean with a body tweak, but didn’t.

Been a while since I felt the liquor.

My words, met with a quiet reception, a listening ear.

And the gloom, hanging heavy, knowing I’d soon have to leave a woman who’d love me, a woman I could love in return.

All of it – that whole mess – soothed the tense, unfairly treated part of my mind.

“So, there’s still something you must do?”

“Yeah. Something to do. Iomene. Something I have to do.”

Ditch the saint act, run far, far away, and live like a dead mouse.

That’s my job, sweetheart.

“The witch with four arms. Her name was Erpa, right? Is she your lover, Saint? I saw you kissing in Iomene’s memories.”

Must be their age, these nineteen-year-old girls. A love story right up their alley.

At Almene’s words, I had to force a bitter smile.

“No. Erpa and I, we aren’t lovers.”

“Then why did you kiss her?”

Iomene asked, a touch of emotion coloring her tone.

Why kiss her, huh?

“Because I’m a spineless coward.”

“Saint, you’re not a coward!”

A feast of honorifics and familiar speech.

Almene, flaring up, blurts it out like that.

But you’re wrong.

Almene.

I’m more of a coward than anyone in this world.

“No. Almene. I’m the coward. So cowardly that I can’t accept the heart of a woman I love, only to fumble with her feelings and try to leave. I’m the coward.”

I like Erpa.

I want to live with her happily, for a long, long time.

But I can’t be that way.

If she’s with me, she’ll end up with an unhappy ending after all.

“I have to leave soon.”

Is it because of the alcohol?

Or is it because this is the first person here to listen to my story so seriously?

The story inside me just flowed out.

“I have to leave here and go far, far away. So how can I accept Erpa’s feelings? How much anguish would she suffer, left alone? So I have to push her away, but I didn’t want to hurt her. So… so I kissed her. I didn’t want her to get hurt, see? It’s a contradiction, right?”

A contradiction.

Even I, listening to it, think it’s a frustratingly foolish contradiction.

If I really didn’t want her to get hurt, I shouldn’t have kissed her in the first place.

I should have acted coldly and viciously, to make her heart turn away.

But I couldn’t do that.

I was truly an indecisive fool.

“I see.”

“I see.”

At their words, I smiled bitterly.

“I’m trash. Indecisive, weak trash. I’m not even a man worthy to be by Erpha’s side.”

A surge, and tears spill out.

The two Princesses approach me, pull me into a tight embrace.

Just like I did to Iomene, the two of them pat my back.

“You have to leave to face the evil that remains in this world, right? Since you’re the Saint, a Seer, you must have foreseen the world’s misfortune.”

“You can rest for a bit. Saint. You must be scared, having to leave to deal with the evil god worshippers and demons. I understand. You can sleep peacefully for now.”

It’s not that I’m leaving to deal with evil god worshippers and demons.

I’m going into hiding to avoid a trip to hell.

Ah…….

My tongue twists, words don’t come out right.

And on top of that, receiving comfort like this, it feels like all the emotions I’ve been holding in are exploding at once.

Before I know it, I’m crying in their arms.

The fear of going to hell.

The terror of being killed by people.

Being held in someone’s arms, it feels a little better.

How long did I cry, kept crying?

The alcohol + the first comfort I’ve received since my past life combo, all the emotions held inside gush out, and then an overwhelming fatigue hits me.

“Come now, Saint. Come here.”

“We’ll help you.”

Their hands pull me, guide me to the bed.

“Don’t you worry. Saint.”

“You helped us, Saint, so we’ll… we’ll help you.”

“You can leave anytime. Go and do what you gotta do, Saint.”

“Don’t fret ’bout Erpa either. We’ll sort it out for ya.”

Didn’t quite grasp what they were sayin’.

The mind, hazy with drink, just whispered that this whole thing felt warm, felt good.

Up in the sky, the two princesses’ voices floated, dreamlike.

“We love you, Saint.”

“And sorry, Saint. We plotted all day to get you drunk, you know. The Dullanear’s Stigmata. Real convenient. Kept us under a miracle to wipe the buzz, me and Almenne.”

“We figured you’d never accept how we feel, not ‘less we did somethin’ like this.”

“Sorry. But it’s kinda your fault, too.”

“You’re the bad one, Saint, taking our hearts and then sayin’ you’re gonna leave. All your fault. Every bit.”

Somethin’ soft and warm and happy started pricklin’ all over me.

Sleepy.

Must’ve pulled a blanket over me, huh?

“Just a sec, Iomene. Puttin’ it in so sudden like…Ah♥…Ugh♥”

“Since the senses are shared, feels like we’re doin’ it with two Saints. Weird.”

So tired.

Been wearin’ myself ragged lately.

Goddess…

I’d been heal’n folks somethin’ fierce, dint I?

And now, I’m ditchin’ the saint act, tryin’a vanish quiet-like, just live.

So, just for a bit.

Just a bit o’ sleep, yeah?

That thought, the last one.

Like film snappin’, everything went dark.