The rain fell heavily.
It was a late summer rain in August. An unwelcome guest that arrived only after the monsoon season had passed.
– Shrrr—.
And that guest was equally unwelcome for Cesar Li, who was running wildly under the cold raindrops.
“Why is it raining out of the blue? Damn it.”
Grumbling, Cesar continued to run. It was because his destination was not far away.
After a moment, when Cesar turned the corner of an alley, he spotted a shabby house that seemed like it belonged in a remote corner of the city. Cesar headed straight for it.
Eventually, Cesar was able to step inside the shabby house. He shook off the rainwater that soaked his clothes.
“…I’m all wet.”
The damp clothing clung to him uncomfortably, but it was bearable enough. Cesar moved toward the inner part of the house’s communal entrance.
In a corner of the hallway, a large spiderweb hung from the ceiling, and a musty smell quietly seeped into Cesar’s nose. It seemed he could hear the faint sound of murmurs from somewhere.
In short, it felt ominous. It appeared to be an old four-story multi-family building. Cesar wondered if anyone actually lived in such a building.
To put it negatively, it resembled an abandoned house, and even positively, it seemed like a place where someone had just lived before leaving. The difference between the two was that the latter might have still retained a semblance of human warmth.
Unfortunately, the more he looked around this building, the more he could only think of it in negative terms. He felt no warmth of any kind, not even as much as an ant’s toenail.
Cesar let out a deep sigh and continued walking. The short but long hallway came to an end, and soon a wooden staircase appeared before him.
The wooden stairs must have shone brightly long ago. They were made from decent quality wood, varnished, but now they had lost their luster and were beginning to rot. The hardened varnish needlessly irritated him.
– Creak. Creak.
Every time he ascended the stairs, an ominous sound echoed throughout. Cesar had to tread cautiously, worried that the floor might give way.
“Damn…. What kind of building is this?”
In this age when redevelopment was sweeping through the aging areas of the city, how could such a building still survive?
Grumbling as he climbed the stairs, a weathered door soon came into view, showing signs of some foot traffic despite its age. Cesar paused for a moment to observe the situation beyond the door.
“…….”
It was quiet. There was no sound at all. It felt less like a building where someone lived and more like he had stepped into a true abandoned house. Cesar brushed off his chilled shoulders and knocked on the door.
– Thud! Thud!
“Hey! It’s me!”
Even after knocking, there was no sign of life. With a puzzled expression, Cesar knocked again.
– Thud! Thud! Thud!
“Lucio! Are you home?!”
Suddenly, a rustling sound came from inside the door. Cesar perked up his ears.
– …Please come in.
A weak and barren voice responded. If a human were thrown into the middle of a desert, that voice might not sound much different.
Cesar pulled the doorknob. The completely unlocked door opened smoothly. Seeing this, Cesar felt even more incredulous.
“This neighborhood isn’t exactly safe, and you don’t even lock the front door….”
And then…
He was left speechless.
It was because he saw Priest Antorelli, lying on the living room floor, looking as if he would directly perish at any moment, alongside the thick haze of cigarette smoke that filled the room.
Next to Priest Antorelli’s head sat an overflowing ashtray piled high with cigarette butts. An empty cigarette pack littered the living room, tripping up Cesar’s feet as he stepped in. Cesar shouted helplessly.
“Cough! Cough! What the hell….”
“…….”
“Hey! Lucio!”
Priest Antorelli did not respond at all. He merely lay in the living room, quietly smoking the last remaining cigarette.
His gaze lacked the strength found in the cigarette butts stacked in the ashtray. If someone were to call him a corpse, Cesar would probably believe it.
The last cigarette nestled in Priest Antorelli’s mouth extinguished, and finally, a void appeared in his lips. They cracked open like dry, withered twigs.
“…Why have you come?”
“Why have I come… Cough! Let’s ventilate the place first and then talk.”
Cesar approached the balcony at one end of the living room, pulled back the drawn curtains, and opened the window. The thick haze of cigarette smoke covering the ceiling poured out through the opened window.
It didn’t take long for the cigarette smoke, reminiscent of a raccoon’s den, to dissipate. The gloomy dark clouds, heavy with rain, entered Cesar’s view.
“I’m going crazy. Truly.”
“…….”
“You! If you’re going to smoke this much at home, at least ventilate while you do it. The wallpaper is turning yellow! You’ll have to pay for all that wallpaper when the landlord comes….”
“Cesar.”
Cesar turned his head. Priest Antorelli was already seated upright.
Priest Antorelli’s gaze was beyond Cesar’s shoulder. He was looking out the opened window of the balcony just behind him, staring at the dark clouds busily crossing the sky.
With a staggering gait, he approached one wall in the living room, leaned against it, and slid down to sit. Perhaps he had been trapped in the stinging haze of cigarette smoke for too long, as his eyes were bloodshot.
…Or was it really just from the cigarette smoke?
Upon closer inspection, it seemed to be more than that. The skin around Priest Antorelli’s eyes was inflamed, resembling someone who had cried for a long time, giving him an appearance akin to someone who was drunk. In terms of being intoxicated, he had effectively become synonymous with a heavily inebriated person.
Priest Antorelli lifted his head. His eyes seemed to be directed at Cesar at first glance, but upon closer inspection, it wasn’t so.
“I wish to die, Cesar.”
He was enthralled by despair. A profound sense of hopelessness and resignation.
Priest Antorelli was under the influence of substances far more potent than any drink in this world. He had slipped into a state of unconsciousness.
“I want to jump off and just die.”
“…Lucio.”
“What’s funny, you ask? When I actually try to do it, I end up stopping. I prepare a sturdy rope, contemplate jumping off the roof, try to cut my wrists or neck with a knife….”
He chuckled slightly, a sardonic smile forming. Drenched in despair, that sardonic smile.
“I’ve failed at everything. Is it because I fear death? Not at all.”
Uaaah—!!
Suddenly, Priest Antorelli screamed. That outburst would have echoed throughout the entire building, which had poor soundproofing.
It was too light to be a scream yet far more brutal than a shout. It was closer to dying gasps.
“Helena’s face won’t leave my mind. Whenever I try to die, Helena’s face comes to mind. It drives me crazy.”
It was the death knell of his persona. Priest Antorelli no longer possessed that identity.
He treated himself as less than human. Yet, even calling him a beast wouldn’t suffice; his gaze showed no warmth.
He was treating himself as an inanimate object. Something that did not think, did not have a heartbeat, did not breathe. Closer to an object than a living being.
Watching him, Cesar felt a tightness in his chest. It was a connection formed in war, now one of the few left. Most of the people he met on the battlefield had perished.
He had served in the same unit but had been transferred to a different one a few years later. Still, the memories of those few years they spent together were imprinted in his mind. The transferred unit was under the same 101st Brigade.
So, when they met before the military tribunal, he was genuinely glad. Alive or dead. He didn’t know if the person was alive or dead. For him to appear alive again before him was nothing short of a relief.
But the Antorelli he knew was gone. The current one felt like something else wearing the shell of Priest Antorelli.
“Lucio. That person named Helena… I don’t know who she is…”
“…I don’t know. Ha.”
Priest Antorelli drooped his head. His dry laughter echoed throughout the disheveled living room.
The shaking of his shoulders gradually intensified. It didn’t take long for that laughter to switch to a wheezy sob.
“Maximilian von Adelheit. That person said the same.”
“What?”
“Helena. Asking who that is. Saying they don’t recognize her.”
Priest Antorelli lifted his head. Unlike moments ago when he was crying, his gaze was still arid.
“Is it enough to not know? If I had known that this would happen, I should have never known at all. I probably should have never known a person named Helena from the start.”
“Hey. Calm down.”
“I just made a mistake. How could I forget Helena? Helena is my precious… precious… wait, where was I?”
“……”
“Ha, haha…! Isn’t it ridiculous? That I’m living like this because of one person named Helena. That I, as a human, can fall endlessly!”
Priest Antorelli laughed loudly. It was a laugh similar to that of a madman. With the image of his mentally unstable self, Cesar fell silent.
After a while of clutching his stomach in laughter, he looked exhausted and dropped his arms and legs, bowing his head. A hoarse voice spilled from his lips.
“…I might be one of the few people left who remembers Helena. So, I couldn’t die. If even the few remaining people who remember Helena were to dwindle, that would truly…”
Priest Antorelli’s words did not continue. A heart-wrenching expression rose on his face.
Cesar silently moved to the kitchen. He filled a cup with water and brought it to Priest Antorelli, who probably hadn’t had a drink for quite some time.
Priest Antorelli stared blankly at the cup of water before finally taking it and slowly starting to drink. As the pace quickened, by the time he emptied the glass, he was practically gulping it down.
“Cough. Cough….”
Suddenly, Priest Antorelli began to sob. It seemed as if the moisture that had just traveled down his throat was now being expelled as tears, prompting Cesar to bring him several more cups of water.
“Are you feeling a bit better now?”
“…I’m sorry, Cesar.”
“Yeah. You seem to be doing much better now.”
Looking at the somewhat collected Priest Antorelli, Cesar let out a soft sigh. This wasn’t like caring for a child; what a situation this was.
It was nothing short of pitiful. Gazing at Priest Antorelli’s haggard face, Cesar spoke.
“I actually came to tell you something, but…. You’re really not in a good state today.”
“…I’m sorry.”
“Well, I don’t mind…. Should I come again tomorrow to talk?”
“I’m fine now.”
Cesar examined Priest Antorelli’s complexion. The slight flush suggested that he had somewhat regained his senses.
“I was debating whether to say this or not, but…. I’ve decided. You have the right to join us.”
Cesar’s expression hardened. Seeing his serious face, Priest Antorelli questioned him.
“What do you mean?”
“Colonel Adelheit. Soon, we’ll be organizing a protest to officially denounce that man.”
“…A protest, you say.”
“Right. Actually, I recently established a new organization.”
“……”
Priest Antorelli listened silently to the story. Cesar continued.
“It’s called the War Veterans Association. It consists mainly of retired soldiers. It’s still in its early stages, but we have quite a few members gathered now. About thirty, roughly?”
“…The name is too radical.”
“I know, damn it. I wonder if we’re the only ones thinking that way; recently, I feel like we’re being followed. They’re probably from some intelligence agency or one of Adelheit’s lackeys eavesdropping on our plans like rats.”
“Cesar.”
“But if we use a name that’s too bland, it’s hard to show our determination. Let’s just accept it as it is. They wouldn’t dare harm us, right?”
“That’s a naive thought. If it’s that person…”
“That’s why we need to show our resolve, Lucio.”
Cesar’s eyes shone strangely. His gaze, smoldering with an indescribable passion, resembled that of a revolutionary. An unshakable unease stirred within Priest Antorelli.
“Lucio. Let’s join forces. If you’re with us, we’ll become even more perfect.”
“……”
“Of course, whatever choice you make, I’ll respect your opinion. Take your time to think it over.”
“…I’m.”
Priest Antorelli couldn’t readily answer. He felt frustrated, but Cesar patiently awaited his response.
“I don’t really understand.”
“Lucio.”
“It’s too dangerous. Wouldn’t it be better to stop?”
“…You don’t know anything.”
Cesar sighed and took a step forward. From his pocket, he pulled out paper and a pen, wrote something down, and placed it in front of Priest Antorelli.
“This is the address of our military association. If you change your mind, come visit us anytime. We’ll welcome you with open arms.”
Cesar moved again, this time not toward Priest Antorelli but toward the front door.
“Well then, I’ll be going. Eat something. If you stay like this, you might not make it through the day.”
“……”
“Lock the front door, too. What if a thief breaks in… sigh. Well, nothing of value is left anyway. Anyway, I’m off.”
With those words, Cesar departed. Priest Antorelli remained in the empty living room, staring blankly at the paper that Cesar had left behind.
– Rumbling….
He heard the sound of the dark clouds stirring. Priest Antorelli turned his head and looked out the window.
The sluggish dark clouds. They had halted for just a moment but were about to pour down again as if they would spill at any moment.
‘That day was also like this weather.’
The day he drank tea with Priest Helena and received her request regarding the Academy.
Priest Antorelli suddenly recalled the memory of that day.
…It was a day where even the weather wasn’t to his liking.
