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Shiro’s eyes gazed around the congregation, the sea of familiar faces that had accompanied him through his years of devotion and sacrifice for God. This small community had been his world for years, and he had poured his heart and soul into his role as their priest, finding both purpose and fulfillment in his work. He knew that every sermon he gave was a chance to uplift and guide even if it was only one soul, a responsibility he carried with both pride and humbleness. As he ended his delivery of the day, he noticed an unfamiliar face lingering at the back of the crowd. Detached starkly from the enthusiastic crowd. This newcomer’s indifference stirred a mix of curiosity and concern in Shiro, studying the man’s figure longer than necessary. As the crowd broke out into chatter in between, Shiro continued his glance standing infront by the altar. The murmurs and laughter filled the church as the people left the nave, the sounds echoing from the walls. The noise must have disturbed the stranger, as they looked around for a way out of the crowd. Seeing the man slipping away to the backrooms, eager to be left alone; Shiro walked down the stage quietly making his way towards where he headed.
He approached slowly, the sounds of his steps tapping against the marble floors. Shiro stopped a few steps away from the figure, watching shamelessly as the man took out a cigar and took in a long puff.
"- Whoever you are, I am not putting this damn cigarette down. Go away."
The man talked as he probably heard Shiro closing by, yet not bothering to turn and face him. Shiro couldn’t help but smile, amused by the bluntness in the man’s voice. He took a few steps closer, replying:
"- Is there a reason you’re smoking all by yourself, at a church of all places?"
The man finally turned to face him, eyeing Shiro up and down as he mumbled “Great.” under his breath. He took another puff from his cigar. Shiro’s eyes carefully took in the appearance of the man in front of him; tired cold eyes, dressed inattentively, clearly not cared for body. Yet between all the aloof elements, the man’s short figure and round face contrasted his image in a rather charming way.
"- The church is expected to be a designated non-smoking area I suppose."
"- Do I look like I care? It’s not one now. "
The man replied as he continued smoking. Shiro chuckled in disbelief, irritated yet amused.
"- You are quite the arrogant one, aren’t you? Are you this rude to everyone or do you have a problem with men of the cloth specifically? "
The stranger didn’t reply, only letting out an annoyed scuff. They threw their burnt-up cigar on the ground and stepped on it. Shiro was really taken back by the gesture, not because it was a vulgar thing to do but because it was purposefully done in front of him, a priest. Most people would have fallen to his feet for repentance and guidance yet here this man was, an expression on his face as if they’d rather spit on his face. Shiro couldn’t hold back a chuckle at the boldness.
"- Where are my manners, the name is Shiro. "
"- Okay?"
"- You know, most people would respond with their own name to such gesture."
"- I am not most people."
Shiro’s eyes roamed over the man again, mumbling “Clearly not.”. The man was unbelievably intriguing, Shiro wanted to know more, despite the hostility he felt coming from him.
"- I feel resentment for the church from you, yet here you are. What is someone like you doing here? "
The man let out an annoyed huff, looking unrest in his place. ‘Sent against his will?’ Shiro thought to himself, trying to figure out what he was thinking. For God’s sake what was his business here?
"- Well, when one tries to you know, off themselves countless times yet failing miserably, one’s family finds the last solution to be at the house of God."
The priest was shocked by the casual revelation, shock being added to his curiosity and irritation. He studied the man intently once again. Before he could add anything, the man spoke again;
"- I actually despise men like you and all this sick twisted church business."
Shiro found himself smirking, not knowing how to react to such clearly stated hatred. What was going on right now, and why was it amusing to him?
"- Unpleasant experiences? "
He asked without thinking. The man laughed coldly, taking out another cigarette and lit it. He took a puff, exhaling the smoke.
"- Yeah, call it a bad experience I suppose. Don’t ask me for a story time though, go ask your lot. Bet they got all kinds of stories."
Shiro didn’t expect the man to throw that kind of response, he tensed at the implication. He felt the need to clear himself from such accusations. He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"- I hope you are not insinuating that I’m part of… those kind of church men. Because I assure you, I am not."
The man eyed him up and down, replying with “That’s what they all say.”. Shiro’s jaw tightened at the sceptical look. He felt frustrated, being assumed to be like those so-called “men of cloth” who gave his occupation a bad name. He couldn’t control the irritation in his voice.
"- You have a very wrong impression of priests."
"- Well, that’s all I have seen. "
"- And how many priests have you actually gotten to speak to? Or are you just making assumptions from what you have heard?"
"- Oh, I am speaking from first-hand experience."
Shiro was left surprised again, he definitely was not expecting such an open admit. His annoyance with the man’s indifference was slowly replaced by pettiness. Despite how defiant and cold the person was, there was something about them so intriguing. His curiosity got the best of Shiro as he continued questioning the man, trying to gauge a reaction.
"- ...How old were you when it happened?"
"- Why? Trying to set a new record between your friends?"
The priest's eyes widened, he could feel his pulse quickening with the morbid comment. It sent an unpleasant pang through his chest. His patience thinning slightly, he crossed his arms over his chest as he commented.
"- Rather quick to be rude don’t you think? Isn’t it unfair to assume I’m the same as the other priests who wronged you?"
The man answered nonchalantly,
"- Say, if a whole dozen priests had their way with you countless times at such a young age. Would you still stay objective for future priests you come across despite what you have been through?"
Shiro flinched slightly, not expecting it to be out so bluntly. He tried to compose himself as he took in the words. He tried to imagine himself in such a situation, but it was hard to truly comprehend such a traumatic experience. “I suppose not…”, he admitted defeat. Shiro pressed his lips together in a thin line, thoughts racing. He kind of hated how logical the answer was. It didn’t matter that the man didn’t know him, he simply saw him that way since he was a priest. And Shiro, couldn’t blame him for that. He glanced at the man again, taking in his form. He normally wouldn’t even bother to be in this situation yet he found himself strangely willing to go against his principles.
"- Why are you still here then?"
The man turned to face him again, his gaze strong on the priest. He stayed silent, as if contemplating whether he should bother answering the question or not. Shiro’s eyes followed his as they landed on the clock across the room. The numbers on the clockface painted gold, glowed softly - 23:20. How much time had Shiro passed here, going back and forth with this man.
"- I’m waiting for midnight."
The man’s eyes glimmered ominously. Shiro felt a chill run down his spine at the words. The empty nave felt so cold all of a sudden, and so quiet.
"- ...Why midnight?"
Shiro questioned eagerly, his gut alerting him something's off. The stranger’s cold, emotionless demeanour was wiped away and replaced by an unsettling determination.
"- Say Father, Man of God… Would I have a place in the heavens above if I give back my soul in the house of God?"
Shiro’s heart dropped at the question, countless emotions going through him. Anxiety, anger, disbelief, frustration, fear… “That’s not how it works, you’re not…” He tried to explain as calmly as he could, barely managing to keep himself contained “You’re supposed to preserve God’s house not…” he couldn’t bear to finish such a horrible sentence.
"- Not bathe it in blood? But isn’t that how the first churches were built? "
The man kept on going. Shiro lost all his defences. Churches had a long, bloody history; he couldn't deny that. But this… what was even going on right now. He couldn’t let the man go through with his implications.
"- I won’t let you. I can’t let you do such a thing."
"- Good luck with that, it’s almost midnight father. And I am tired of waiting."
The man replied almost mockingly. Shiro’s eyes darted to the clock, it was nearly 12 pm already. His gaze bounced between the man and the clock. His mind running a mile in a minute. A wave of helplessness went through him as he tried to comprehend what’s going on and think of something, anything. What kind of pathetic priest was he right now? What kind of priest was he going to be if he couldn’t save someone from doing such thing right in front of him?
The man started taking a stroll between the empty seats of the nave. His footsteps echoing through the church like the ticking of a countdown. Shiro could only watch baffled, the man walked around in such a slow and graceful manner light on his feet. He wasn’t showing a single sign of panic nor fear, as if he was calmly waiting for what’s going to happen in full acceptance. The huge windows of the altar illuminated by the dim glow of the moon, the church completely still and waiting with him. The man slowly made his way to the raised platform, stepping onto the stage ignoring Shiro’s voice of plea “Stop- Please.”.
A smile formed on his face as he opened his arms wide, spinning and dancing around the stage. As if it was the most natural thing to do, he spun and danced across, uncaring of what’s to come. Shiro watched the manic state in horror, taking uncertain steps towards the man. It was as if the world had slowed down, time stopped. Shiro could hear his heart pounding in his ears as the shine of a knife came into view. The man had taken out a dagger from his jacket, taking out the jacket in the process. He stepped onto the highest point of the altar looking down at the nave as he kneeled down. His eyes closed, praying. Shiro rushed towards the platform, barely reaching on time as the dagger touched the man’s throat. He lunged forward, pinning the man down keeping the dagger away.
The man burst into laughter as his body hit the ground, leaving Shiro even more stunned. Instinctively he held the man’s limbs down, the laughter echoing through the air. The man continued laughing and laughing, tears forming in his eyes in his manic state. Shiro was bewildered, lost. He tried to regain control of the situation, not being able to grasp what’s going on. He froze when he heard the sudden shift from laughter to crying. He looked down at the man, sobbing uncomfortably. His grip loosened, he was at a loss for words. He didn’t know if he should comfort or yell at the man for putting him through such an ordeal.
"- Why won’t you just let me end my suffering My God, the man whimpered."
Shiro’s heart clenched at the pain and desperation in his voice. He was one to preach and give reassurances, yet seeing the man broken like that shook him to his core. Leaving him unable to utter any platitudes he had delivered a hundred times before. The sobs rang through the air, the peaceful silence of the church disappearing. Shiro had seen people cry in front of him before, many people came to the church for comfort during tough times. But none of them could have prepared him for this. The man was completely falling apart, as if his entire existence was unravelling before his eyes. Even if he didn’t know what to do he couldn’t just watch the man break down. Shiro pulled the man upright and wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace.
He had never held someone so tightly before, he could feel the tears soaking through his robes, staining them with his pain. The man was breaking down in his arms and Shiro was breaking right along with him. The irony of it all was lost on him. He spent his days working hard to be a person of faith, delivering sermons and preaching for the right way. And yet, here he was broken down by this complete stranger who walked into his life like a flashstorm. The words he had repeated without a second thought to soothe those hearts of the faithful now felt empty and hollow. How could he dare to speak of hope when his whole foundation was shattering right now?
Shiro held the man tighter, whispering. “Why?...” Why was he doing this? Why was he putting him through this? It wasn’t a question just about the stranger’s actions, it was a question about his faith, morality and everything else he stood for. Shiro felt like he was standing at the edge of something… of a truth he was too afraid to acknowledge. And right then the voice choked with sobs spoke.
"- Please…"
"- Please?... Please what?"
Shiro didn’t know what he was asking, he couldn’t figure out what he was asking. Did he want him to stop? Did he want him to explain?... Did he want him to ask something of him? Something Shiro wasn’t prepared to give… But could he do it? Even if it meant stopping the immense pain the man was in, even for a moment. Shiro waited for the man’s words, the air felt suffocating.
"- Please end me."
The plea was like a dagger to the heart. Shiro felt like the world had suddenly turned upside down. But a feeling deep down his heart, knew this was the only way he could soothe such pain. Could he do it? He was a priest, he had guided the lost ones to the right way, was this his? The plea continued echoing down the nave, shattering the foundations of Shiro’s beliefs. He couldn’t comprehend it. How could he, a priest, a man of god, be asked to end a life? It went against everything he stood for, everything he dedicated his life to. But the desperation, the pain, the despair. He could see the man at the other end of the same rope he found himself desperately pulling against. It was like looking at a reflection… He understood. Could he do it? Was this his trial? His mind was a battlefield between faith and duty, torn between the teaching he had known all his life and the desperate plea of the broken soul in his arms. Yet the more he thought about it, the more he felt a strange sense of resignation. As if the answer had always been there…
…
The church was completely silent now, the only sounds being Shiro’s steady breathing and the thrumming of his heartbeat. The universe holding its breath… Shiro looked down at the man in his arms as he realized he had already made his decision.