Chapter 5

The taxi jolted and shuddered along the road. Aoyama got carsick easily, and he kept feeling like he was going to throw up. The taxi should have been taking the same road as before. Did they have a worse driver this time? As the taxi drove alongside the ocean, he couldn’t help but think back to the freezing water and the cursed words (though they were originally meant to be a blessing), which only made him feel more nauseated. Rumi sat facing forward, her expression strangely serene. She didn’t seem to be conscious of Aoyama or the taxi driver, let alone the scenery. Aoyama had tried to ask about her minor misgiving—whether Jan was mimicking Jesus Christ—but her replies had been vague. Maybe it was already too late, seeing as they were already en route to enemy territory. However— Al of a sudden, the taxi braked and jerked to a stop. The side of Aoyama’s head slammed into the window, and he groaned. He felt a stomach-churning nausea. He clamped his hand over his mouth and just barely managed to keep down the contents of his stomach. “Haven’t we gone far enough?” the driver said rapidly. “I don’t think there’s anywhere to go.” He turned his head nearly 180 degrees to face them. His black eyes were staring in the wrong direction. Spit dribbled out of the corner of his mouth. “There’s nothing here. You’ll only be a nuisance.” “I see. It’s already started,” Rumi said. She touched her hand to the driver’s forehead. “How kind. You stopped the car when you could have easily killed us all instead.” A low moan came escaped the driver’s lips. Immediately after, all the energy seemed to drain from him, and his eyelids drooped closed. Rumi pushed the door lock button and got out of the car. She dragged the driver out from his seat. Aoyama got out, too, and checked his pulse. He was only asleep. The two of them worked together to lay the man in the back seat. Rumi climbed into the driver’s seat, and Aoyama got in next to her. “This must be Jan’s work… It’s shocking he can do this when we’re still two miles away,” Aoyama said, staring at the mountain where the facility was. It was visible off in the distance. “I won’t say we should go back, but I’ve had an awful feeling about this the entire time.” “That’s to be expected. But I’m relieved. Jan thinks of us as nothing more than insects buzzing around him. He’s watching us, of course, but he doesn’t see us as a threat. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to kill us.” Rumi started the car; Aoyama scrambled to fasten his seatbelt. “I’m prepared to do anything,” she said. As they got closer, Aoyama’s discomfort increased. The driver hadn’t been unskilled after all. It was the sickening air that pervaded the area as a whole that was making him nauseated. He gripped the rosary in his pocket. He would not approve of a thug who selfishly used God’s words to manipulate others. Emi Shimamoto was an archetypal victim of grooming. In modern day, the term toxic parent was used to refer to parents who obstructed the growth of their own child—though in her case, it was her brother—and she had been raised by a toxic person. Unfortunately, such children were often poor at communicating with others, which became a source of friction in their life, and they fell prey to other abusers even after separating from their toxic guardian. Jan wouldn’t physically injure her and didn’t seem to desire her sexually, like her brother did. However, after hearing Rumi’s story, Aoyama was convinced Emi had merely become an outlet for one of Jan’s other desires. “We’re close,” Rumi said. Aoyama started getting ready. They didn’t stop at the parking space at the foot of the hill like the last time. Instead, they quickly accelerated up the slope. “What’s wrong, Rumi?” he asked. “Sorry to the driver, but we have no choice. We’ve got to hurry,” she said. “Can’t you feel it?” Aoyama looked out the window, pressing a hand to his throbbing head. It was the middle of the day, but outside, there was no hint of sun. It looked like it was the middle of the night. There was one more thing. “It stinks,” he said. The foul stench of soiled river water wafted in the air. Without responding, Rumi pushed the accelerator. Aoyama and Rumi walked through the lily garden and opened the facility door, only to come across a crowd of people in white clothing prostrating themselves. “What…?” Aoyama muttered. “We don’t have time for this nonsense. Let’s go,” Rumi said. She continued onward, stepping on the people calmly. He joined her, apologizing in his mind. The throng grew dense around one particular room. Inside was a shocking tableau. A tower made of logs. Deer. Rabbit. Bird. Fish. Frog. Their bodies were skewered and arranged around the tower. Aoyama covered his nose. Otherwise, the stench would have been too much for him to handle. It was coming not from the carcasses but from the tower. He looked up at the structure’s peak. A boy who looked like he was still in elementary school was bound to the top. He seemed listless, and despite the great height, he wasn’t crying. “Cock-a-kroh.” Aoyama heard a whisper in his ear, but when he turned around, there was no one there. “Cock-aaa-kroooh.” This time, the voice came from in front of him, but all he could see was rotting rabbits dotting the room. “Cock-a-cock-aaa-kroooh!” The roar reverberated in the air. Rumi snapped into action. She dashed furiously around the hall, knocking over the impaled deer heads. She mowed down a man dressed in white who had been in Aoyama’s blind spot. The man toppled to the ground. Aoyama heard the sound of something hard falling to the floor. When he looked, he saw a bow and arrows. Chills ran down his spine. If Rumi hadn’t stopped him, the man would have shot the boy. “Ah, you did me a favor. Thank you,” a soft voice said. Jan had appeared out of nowhere. Emi was beside him. “Worthy fruit has not been born, it seems. Your grandfather must be disappointed as well.” Aoyama’s blood boiled in rage. He forgot about the stench and got ready to lash out. Before he could, however, Rumi slapped Jan hard on the cheek. The crisp sound echoed throughout the room. Jan fell. “Shut up,” Rumi said, glaring at the man. He didn’t cower in fear. He merely smiled back at her from where he was on the ground. Emi was smiling faintly, too, as if in agreement. “You are blessed.” Jan stood. He lifted his index, middle, and ring fingers. “May the blessings of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit be upon you.” The next thing he knew, Aoyama was on the floor. His body was heavy. There was no chance of him standing up. Nevertheless, he strained his neck and wrenched his torso up. He glanced at Rumi. Even under the immense pressure, she was standing tall. “You are no doubt the Lord’s subjects. However, I am unable to attend to you right now. Please pardon my rudeness. You are not my brother or sister, but…I am happy to share this exalted moment with you.” Emi stepped forward nervously and raised both hands to the sky. “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men.” The floor rumbled. The animal carcasses fell over, raising dust into the air. Aoyama breathed in the particles and choked. The taste of iron filled his mouth. The dust got into his eyes. Tears flowed uncontrollably down his face. On the other side of the haze, he saw a giant shadow, the color of all-consuming darkness. It was the source of the odor and was jerking wildly. “I see. This is the Hollow-Eyed Woman,” Rumi said mockingly. “You really are immature through and through, Haruki.” Suddenly, the pressure that was crushing Aoyama’s insides dissipated. He scrambled to his feet. The weight might have disappeared, but the shadow still loomed large. He felt a piercing coldness. Jan’s eyes were wide open and fixed on Rumi. She laughed loudly. “Did I surprise you? Did you think you were the only one who could spy on others as you like, Haruki Kashiwagi? It’s because you rely on such childish illusions that you fall prey to hubris.” “Illusions…?” Jan muttered. He raised his three fingers again. “Έγώ—” “Ego emi ho on, is it?” Aoyama chanted before Jan could finish. “In the words of God the Father, ‘I am the one who is.’ That’s not a phrase people should throw out carelessly. It’s the fundamental of all fundamentals written in the Bible. This isn’t a matter of learning. You won’t even follow the basic rules. As someone who believes in the same God, I pity and weep for you. Who are you to pass judgment on others? “I see. You didn’t expect this. Every man to his trade, they say.” Rumi’s tone was back to normal. She laughed melodramatically. After her bout of laughter, she faced Jan, who had gone still, and said, “I pity you, Haruki Kashiwagi. I read the whole thing for your sake. The Church of the Octagram? That’s the name of the patchwork religion you created? I’m sure you read the books of many new religious movements.” She threw a book on the floor. THE HOLY SCRIPTURES OF THE CHURCH OF THE OCTAGRAM was written on the cover. “It was like an adventure story written by a middle schooler. A fun read. The action-packed journey of Iēsoûs and Ioan. A world where all outsiders had been eliminated. A gentle world for the two of them alone. This is what you dream of, right? Someone who understands you. Someone who is your equal. You didn’t have anyone around you who treated you as an equal. Isn’t that partially your own fault, though? But as someone who also didn’t have a good upbringing, I sympathize with you.” Rumi walked up to Jan and planted herself square in front of him. “So? What will you do next, you poor little wannabe Jesus?” The floor shook again. It was a stronger quake than before. Aoyama staggered, and Rumi steadied him. Before he could say thanks, he became aware of laughter resonating with the rumbling in the ground. Yes, Jan was laughing. It wasn’t a polite chuckle as befitting the smile he always wore. Instead, he was guffawing with his mouth wide and head thrown back. “Thank you so much,” he said, grinning creepily. “It was a terribly fascinating thought experiment. But all of it is wrong! Me? Iēsoûs? Unthinkable! I’m not even worthy of untying the laces on his shoes!” The black patch was spreading. Aoyama couldn’t even see his own fingertips. There was a red light in the distance. “Let us pray.” That was the last thing he heard. Jan’s—Haruki Kashiwagi’s—ceremony was based on the binding of Isaac. Isaac was the only son of Abraham, a figure in the Old Testament, and Abraham’s wife Sarah, who had him late in life. God commanded Abraham and Sarah to sacrifice Isaac, and though they were conflicted, they abided by his word. Just as Abraham was about to slit his son’s throat, God stopped him, recognizing that his faith was true. What was surprising was that the event closely resembled a ritual performed at Suwa Grand Shrine during the Ontou Festival. During the ceremony, an eight-year-old boy is tied to a pillar and a priest mimes stabbing him with a dagger. Then a second priest rides in on a horse and stops the sacrifice. There the ritual ends. Not only was Jan’s ritual nearly identical, but he even used the rooster call. I didn’t know which god Jan believed in. Even after I had established that Christianity was the root of his faith, some things were unclear to me. But I had figured it would work out in the end. I was naive. He was many times more powerful than me. I had known to be on my guard. It was my fault things ended up this way. I was too soft. I sympathized with him. He, like me, had been born with a strange power. He, like me, was the garbage progeny of garbage parents. What was more pitiful was that he wasn’t even aware of his own powers. He believed that because of his steadfast faith, his god heard his prayers. He was under the misconception that everything that happened was a miracle performed by his god. I had thought of him as a poor child. Maybe there had even been a part of me that looked down on him. That was why I had thought that if I revealed the truth and dismantled his beliefs, he would stop this biblical farce. It backfired. I had only managed to redouble his so-called faith. All of this had been pointless. I had misjudged things. Not only had I not been able to protect myself, but I hadn’t protected Aoyama, either. He was different from us. He was kind, simple as that, and overflowing with love. He loved even trash like me. Aoyama. I sent my prayer out into the void. Aoyama. I called his name over and over again. Even as I shouted for him in vain, I felt my consciousness being sucked away. The Hollow-Eyed Woman, whom Jan likened to the Virgin Mary, was swallowing me whole, killing me. It was likely nothing more than an evil spirit. It was so disgusting I could puke. Its eyes were empty like caves. Its other parts were an afterthought. A mere spirit it was, and yet it viciously and obediently swallowed me up. That was no doubt a boon of his “faith.” Aoyama. I screamed, dredging up the last of my energy. After that, I was— I heard a sigh in my ear. I thought it was my imagination, but I was wrong. My hand was folded up in a larger one. Color flooded back into my vision. I saw light. A light that was pure and white, so unlike the light the Hollow-Eyed Woman emitted. The glow spread over my entire body from my fingertips. I could see clearly again. I was standing, propped up by Aoyama. He was holding my hand in his. His pale eyes were focused on me. “You don’t listen, do you, woman?” he said, tightening his grip. This wasn’t Aoyama. Aoyama didn’t talk like that. He was— “I can’t do a thing myself. I know you’re tired, but gimme a hand.” His appearance, his voice, even the butter-like scent of his body was Aoyama’s. Yet he wasn’t Aoyama. Monobe was borrowing and speaking through his body. In the hand he was holding, I could feel something other than the softness of skin, something hard. It was probably the glass bead. I realized anew how brilliant the man was. I had thought the bead was just a talisman to protect Aoyama. That something so simple could have such a great effect— I shoved my relief into a corner of my mind. The situation hadn’t improved one bit. In fact, it had only worsened. The darkness from the Hollow-Eyed Woman was starting to suck in Jan, too. The wooden pillars in the tower had cracked, and several had fallen on the floor. It was creaking like it was about to fall down at any second. Jan was laughing. It didn’t seem like he was paying any attention to us anymore. He was jubilantly chanting something unintelligible (though Aoyama might have made sense of it). What was even more horrifying was that Emi Shimamoto was still standing there. She had not been brainwashed by Jan’s powers. She was just as strong as he was. She didn’t understand anything about his faith or doctrine. Plus, she could clearly see the repulsive tableau we were a part of. And still, she was standing there, beside Jan, smiling weakly. “Help…? How?” I asked, half in despair. “Close your eyes,” he whispered in my ear. “It will be there.” I did as I was told. And who should leap into my darkened vision but the mermaid princess. She was laughing as always, her pearl-like teeth on display. I grew frightened and opened my eyes. I felt his hand tighten around mine. “I told you, didn’t I? I force them to play by my rules.” My rules. Inside my closet palace, everything happened according to my will. I can play God. When I closed my eyes again, the mermaid princess was gone. This narrow, reeking, and dark box. That was right. The mermaid princess wasn’t the one. Here and here alone, Jan wasn’t the one, either. Here, I was the queen. The queen of the closet. I opened the closet door. “Haruki Kashiwagi,” I screamed. “Come on in, Haruki Kashiwagi.” When I came to, I was in a dark room. The sweet stink of rotting fruit assaulted my nostrils. The exaltation I had felt until a moment ago at the birth of our Lord quickly withered. The place of Iēsoûs’s birth was far from hygienic—there was no sugarcoating it. However, according to the prophecy, the earth was to quake with the army of angels and the joyful song of those inspired by his birth. His birthplace should have been lit with brilliant light. It should not have been dark and smelly. This place was not fitting for Iēsoûs, who was our glory. But I soon reconsidered. I was an incomplete Ioan. Thus, this was the last test posed to me by the Lord. I was to find our savior in this lightless, filthy, and moist place. Then the perfect kingdom of the righteous would, at last, become whole beneath his rule. I crawled around, looking for Iēsoûs, but I couldn’t find him anywhere. This room was cramped. I only had to move a little before I bumped into the end. Yet I couldn’t see the four walls that should have demarcated the room. All around me was a deep darkness that seemed to extend endlessly. I couldn’t even stand. Here, my body fell prostrate naturally. Our Lord. Iēsoûs. Where art thou? I was a patient man. I had withstood the long years since my realization for the sake of Iēsoûs’s birth. Nonetheless, even I could not bear the darkness in which I could not distinguish between earth and sky, let alone left and right. I could feel the scrapes on my knees and palms. At my limit, I called out, “Iēsoûs Khrīstós.” Something appeared in front of my eyes. It was a throne. The throne was built of cardboard and sloppily decorated. Ornamented with cicada wings, construction paper, nails, crayons, banana peels, and the like. Our long-awaited savior would not reign from such a dirty throne. But what if that was what the Lord wished for? The Lord had not saved Iēsoûs, not when a crown of thorns was placed on his head, not when he walked the Via Dolorosa to jeering and laughter, not when he was crucified, and not when Longinus stabbed his flank. “Jan.” I heard my name and looked around. “Jan.” I heard it again. Someone was sitting on the throne. The woman was clothed in rags with her hair outgrown. A woman who was in no way beautiful. That woman. Rumi Sasaki. That was her name. The woman who had belittled my faith, had made a mockery of it, and had flung it on the ground. Why was she sitting on the throne prepared for Iēsoûs, for our savior? “Step down from the throne,” I yelled without thinking. It was unforgivable. The only one who could sit on that throne was Iēsoûs. “Why?” She looked down at me quizzically. “This is my palace.” She extended her hand toward me. I rocked my body away to avoid her, but there was nowhere to run. “Don’t be afraid.” She placed her hand on my cheek. Somehow, I ended up clinging to her arm, like I had been sucked in. “Sleep, Jan.” My eyelids drooped. The warmth spread from my cheek to my core. It was hard to fight. At that moment, I finally arrived at the truth. The truth of who Iēsoûs was. Iēsoûs was the son of God. Yet he took the form of a human and was born from a woman’s womb. He was born in a barn crowded with livestock. He guided people, was betrayed by people, was defiled, and died taking on our sins. He was neither beautiful nor divine. However, he loved unconditionally and served mankind. He walked among the people. I grew ashamed. The New Testament was correct. Like Rumi had said, THE HOLY SCRIPTURES OF THE CHURCH OF THE OCTAGRAM was nothing more than a childish adventure story. Someone like me could never hope to surpass him. I could not become the eternal servant. “Sleep.” That was right. Rumi Sasaki could see the Mother of God. Besides Gabriel and me, one other would recognize her for who she was. “You are Iēsoûs,” I said. Iēsoûs’s heat scorched away my sins. Iēsoûs smiled. Iēsoûs had come. The world would now assume its proper form. The world would be ruled peacefully by his hand. My mission was over at last. “You’re awake, Aoyama.” Hearing his name, Aoyama sat up. He took a breath in and choked. His throat hurt terribly like it had been cut. But there was no time to pay attention to the details. He quickly got to his feet. “Where’s Jan…?” he asked. “It’s faster for me to show you than explain,” Rumi said. Then she switched tacks. “More importantly…thank you.” She bowed. Her words startled Aoyama, who didn’t know what she was talking about. He stopped her. “Don’t… I wasn’t able to do anything this time, either…” “No, you’re always helping me out. Thanks,” she said and hugged him. His heart beat faster, and he blushed to the tips of his ears. But before he could wrap his arms around her, she briskly straightened up and walked away. The spectacle before them was as awful as it had been before. Broken wood pieces lay everywhere, big enough to cause a life-threatening injury if they had fallen on someone. The tower had almost entirely collapsed. The wood at its core had been tightly packed together, so it had held its shape more or less. Rumi and Aoyama walked to the door, weaving between the wood splinters and unidentifiable lumps of meat. As they neared the exit, a shadow flung itself at them. It was Emi. Her face was covered with dirt, and her white dress was in tatters. Nevertheless, she was beautiful. Her large eyes darted left and right. She glared at Rumi. “Thank goodness you’re okay, Emi,” Rumi said. “Let’s go back.” “No!” she cried, brandishing a wooden stake. Apparently, there was something in Aoyama and Rumi’s path that she didn’t want them to see. “He and I will be turning that over to the police,” Rumi said. At the other end of where she was pointing was Jan. Buried in the debris, Jan was no longer menacing or intimidating. He was sleeping and sucking on his thumb, seeming far younger than nineteen. “Emi,” Rumi said again. Even then, Emi refused to move out of the way. She spread her arms wide as if to protect him. “Why do people…? They’re already so lucky, so why?! Why do they take everything from us? Leave us alone.” “Jan spoke words of succor to people who had hit rock bottom. He manipulated them as he pleased and used them as tools.” Rumi took a step closer to Emi. “There are plenty of times in a person’s life when things don’t go well. Sometimes, people are swayed by the sweet nothings of bad actors and reach a point of no return. Do you think those people only get what they deserve? That it doesn’t matter what happens to them?” In the middle of her speech, it started to sound as if Rumi was trying to convince herself of this. She continued. “There’s no way that’s true. There’s no one in this world whose life doesn’t matter. Jan must be properly punished.” “No!” Emi’s scream was earsplitting. She shook her head wildly. “He saved me!” Her eyes filled with tears. She yelled at the top of her lungs, “He said I was beautiful! Precious! He protected me from people who made fun of me. He loved me.” “The way your brother did?” “That man was no brother to me,” Emi snapped. She folded Jan into her arms and hugged him tightly. “I knew he was weird. Day after day after day, he mocked me, but he still checked the color of my underwear and touched me and looked at me lasciviously. But what can I do? I’m hideous. I had to put up with it. “That’s what I thought, but I was wrong. Jan didn’t do things like that. He told me I was pretty and that I had value! He said I didn’t have to try to please the people who looked down on me! He was always, always so kind!” “That’s because you were convenient for him,” Rumi said coldly. “You weren’t brainwashed, so you must be aware of that, right? He was using real people as characters in a childish puppet show. Emi Shimamoto, the person, was worth nothing to him.” “No. No way. You’re wrong.” “I’m not. That man is fundamentally the same as your brother. He set his sights on the weak, controlled them, and played them as he liked. There’s nothing more to it.” Emi cut her off. “Enough already.” Her voice was weak. Through tears, she said, “I want to live with him forever.” That was all. Rumi stood frozen for a while. Aoyama watched her. He hadn’t been able to help this time around, either. The final decision was not his to make. After a minute, Rumi took out an envelope from her coat pocket. It was the same one Monobe had shoved back at her. She threw it down in front of Emi. “Use this to start your life over…is what I want to say, but there’s hardly enough money in there for that.” Upset though Emi was, she still picked up the envelope. “What’s this…?” “I’m letting you go. You’re just two pitiful children,” Rumi said. “Who are you to look down on us?” Emi said angrily. Rumi looked back at her with frosty eyes. “You were born with powers no human should have and were raised in an environment no better than a trash heap. You are pitiful.” Rumi’s lips were trembling lightly. She looked like she was about to cry. Aoyama jerked toward her, but she held out a hand to stop him. “You ought to live in a city,” she said. “It’ll be easier to get government support. Don’t go back to your current address. Don’t go back to your parents’ place, either. Your brother will drag you back without a doubt. If you can, you should quit your job, too. Considering everything that happened, you might have to anyway. I won’t say anything. If he comes to me, I promise to chase him off. As for the rest…” Rumi took a breath and said, “The rest you’ll have to figure out yourself.” Emi’s face lit up like a flower blooming. “I can have him?” Rumi didn’t answer. With a brilliant smile, Emi said, “I can ■■■■■ him, right?” “We’re going home,” Rumi proclaimed loudly, interrupting her. Aoyama hadn’t heard what Emi had said. Rumi’s expression was complicated. She turned her back on the other woman. Aoyama nodded without a word and followed after her. After leaving the room, he turned around one more time. Emi had Jan resting on her knee. She was crying quietly. The two of them were the only things lit in the room, and they were shining. “The pietà,” Aoyama mumbled without thinking. Rumi covered his mouth. “You shouldn’t say that,” she said and walked off without turning around again. Aoyama didn’t turn again, either. This kind of work was perfect for me. Online, there was no shortage of complaints from girls in the same profession. “How dare he lecture me after we do it? Shitty bastard. Die. You think you’re so slick, asking to see me outside the shop when no one’s paying attention.” “Got another dirtbag pestering me today! Just one round, he said. What’s up with that? No way in hell, idiot.” “Why do I gotta text an old fart who doesn’t read Japanese? It’s hard labor. Do me a favor and die already.” “Seriously, don’t get it twisted. Dating? Are you kidding me? Why did you think I’d go out with you?” I didn’t relate at all. My customers were all kind and courteous. They never did anything obscene. We only ever fell asleep together. Then they would thank me, leave me money, and go away satisfied. The shop told me I would have to be prepared to do it, but I haven’t had to even once yet. This job was seriously a blessing. This world was filled with nice people. I now knew that I had value. I was meant to be loved and cherished. It was true what they say: If you want to change others, you must first change yourself. With a simple shift in perspective, people started treating me kindly, and I was able to be kind to them back. That wasn’t because of my job, but there was one reason I was glad I started doing this work. Money. My salary at my last job had taken a nosedive. I was told that it was abnormally high to start with, but a fifth of the amount was not enough to feed two mouths. Even with the money that woman—Sasaki, her name was—had given us, after renting a new apartment and buying clothes, we had almost no money left. She had told us to seek government assistance, but they would have asked questions we didn’t want to answer, like what our relationship or household status was. It would have been unbearable. Besides, I was a full-time employee at Moriya Foods, so they wouldn’t have given us anything anyway. That was why, even though I had finally gotten hired by a major company, one whose prestige far surpassed my abilities, I had no choice but to quit. Instead, I started my current job. At first, I was afraid. Seeing the naked body of a man reminded me of my brother. On top of that, I was prejudiced, too. I was working this job to make money as quickly as possible. It was just a one-time gig. I planned to find a proper career. However. Upon working up the courage and giving it a try, I realized there was no better job in the world. Even though the men and I were both naked, we never did anything dirty. We only held each other as we slept. For so little, I was able to receive money rivaling my old salary. Come to think of it, he’d told me something long ago. Humans became ashamed of their nakedness after a monster called Nāāš seduced the first woman and she ate the apple. Having eaten the apple, humans came to know evil and became embarrassed of their naked bodies. I thought about everything that had happened as I went home. That day, I slept with five men. All of them were cute like infants. I was happy. I wasn’t wrong. He had told me as much. “You are Gabriel, the left hand of God, the angel of love.” At the time, I couldn’t imagine myself as someone so magnificent. However, when I started this job, I came to believe it. I bestowed my love upon others, the way he had said. That was why it wasn’t wrong for me to continue in this line of work. My job was to give love to other people. That was why he had said what he did. “I love you, but I do not want you to love me.” It must not be good for me to love a specific person. That was what I thought. But even so. “I’m home!” I called as I opened the door. He jumped at me with nearly enough force to knock me over and wrapped himself around my legs. When I smiled at him, he laughed like he was happy from the bottom of his heart. There was no one more adorable. There was no one more precious. He couldn’t speak yet, but somehow, while I was away at work, he cleaned the apartment. He cooked, too—simple fare. He was quick to fall asleep, so unfortunately, we weren’t able to go out together. “What are we having today?” I asked. He didn’t answer, but there was bread on the desk. Emotion surged up within me, and I embraced him tightly. Ms. Sasaki might be a good person. Good intentions or not, he had caused trouble for a lot of people. Apparently, there were people still suffering because of him. Even so, Ms. Sasaki hadn’t reported him to the police. She must have been responsible for his current state as well. I didn’t know what or how, but if this was within her means, she should have been able to kill him. But she hadn’t. That was why I was sure she was my ally, that she was a good person. That being said, I couldn’t become the person she wanted. We were not children to be pitied. I looked at him with his innocent smile. At the moment, he was cute and nothing more. And yet. He possessed a magnificent power and a magnificent goal. The millennium kingdom. Yes, that was what he called it. I should have asked him more when I had the chance. But even if I had, I might not have understood anyway, seeing as I knew nothing about Christianity. The millennium kingdom. A glorious world under Jesus Christ’s reign. A world free of war and hatred. That was his dream. His methods might have been wrong, but his motives had been pure and beautiful. I believed in him. He could surely make it a reality. Through means that didn’t hurt anyone and were far smarter and more righteous than the present ones. I felt warmth on my cheek. He was pressing his palm on my face. From his touch, warmth bloomed through my entire body. I was so happy I could cry. He couldn’t speak yet, but…someday, he was sure to return to the way he had been. “I can’t wait for you to grow up,” I said. Even when I talked to him, there was never a response. “I love you, my Lord.”