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It was raining this evening. The gentle fall of rain kissing the ground with small splatters seemed picturesque for the church on this island. Your ears could hear the individual echoes as the rain fell, the squeaking of wet shoes hitting the church tile floors. You stepped inside, pulling back the hood of your coat and folded it over the pew as you sat down.
You always sat at the back of the church, not for any special reason. folding your hands in your lap and lowering your head, your mind began to wander - and unfortunately, so did your ears.
Hearing the small voices of the people in confessionals, the silent prayers of others in the pews at the front, and the moulded eyes of the Apostles and Madonna staring down at you as you tried to tune out everything with little success.
Soon enough, the soft padding of feet could be heard next to you. Kurt sat down with his rosary, muttering in German with the end of his tail gently flicking back and forth. His blue fuzzy skin illuminated a night time blue with the candles flickering. He then spoke,
“You do not frequent this place, do you?” He asked, his voice soft as silk.
You shook your head slightly, “No. God and I never had much of a thing going on.” Kurt let out a small huff at your remark, he was amused. You continued, “It’s quiet in here, I prefer it that way.”
He nodded along. Kurt would put his rosary away and sit closer to you, his curiosity never failing him. “The quiet of this place is always welcome. I understand you on that front.”
You shrugged, “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”
His brow quirked up, “We both come for consolation, for guidance and for peace. What is there not to understand?”
The question hung in the silence, he waited for you to answer, but you kept to yourself. “Fine.” He replies, “…do you know why I come here?”
You sighed, “Because you’re ordained and have been a practitioner of this religion since you were old enough to wield your swords with your tail?”
Whilst the answer was amusing to his pointed ears, he turned to face the front. He took a breath before speaking.
“My mother cared not for me. My existence as an extension of her was too much, thus I was lulled away in chaotic waters. My family in the Munich circus gave me all I could ever want in my life - love, acceptance and hope. My faith became a part of that great change. I carry it with me no matter where I go since I know, to Him, I can never fail in His eyes.”
As you listened, you began to ponder on why you bother attending the church in the first place. It wasn’t something you thought about often, but the question still nagged at you whenever it decided to. Kurt looked to you. “So, I ask again, mein freund - why do you come?”
You sat up straight and looked ahead, not willing to look him in the eyes.
“I’ve heard so much.” You began. “My mutation hinders me as much as it helps. I can hear all sorts of things - important things, insignificant things, things that people would not tell another soul. The only place of solace was this church, where I couldn’t hear anything but my own thoughts. The mutation has been unrelenting, jeopardising my sanity and letting me hear things that I wish I could erase from knowing. I’ve spent most of my life trying to block them out than sleeping peacefully.”
A frustrated tear slipped down your face. “Satisfied?” You asked him.
He then lets a small smirk appear across his lips, “Are you satisfied?”
You sighed, “…yes. I suppose.”
----
A while later, you put your coat back on and got ready to leave. Kurt was also readying himself to go home. The conversation you both had left an impression of understanding amongst you both, it was eye opening for you both.
“I suppose I shall see you for Sunday service?” He proposed.
You shook your head, “Again, I’m not a practitioner.” You replied, “…but…maybe we can see each other afterwards?”
“I look forward to it.” He answered, watching you walk off in the rain, a weight lifted from your shoulders.