The following evening.

Every one of the villagers had gathered in the open space at the center of town. They had congregated to honor the death of old man Bolo. The church was down the road, in view of the square. In place of the would-be town priest, Iscario had conducted a sermon for the sake of the deceased there, and after that, his body was carried here.

The body would be reunited with all of his worldly belongings, which didn’t amount to much. The useful possessions: clothes that could still be worn, tools that hadn’t rusted away yet, they would be shared among the villagers. Everything else: torn clothing that hadn’t been thrown away, left-over toys made of reeds tied together, as well as the bandages that had hidden his face, which had been blackened due to the grime, they would all be burned to ash.

According to Mayor Horheldorfel, the significance of the practice was to shed all of his earthly possessions, and send the energy imbued into them up into the sky in the form of smoke, where it could be reunited with the old man’s soul.

After that, the body was to be entrusted to the hunters. They would carry it into the forest, where the wild animals could feed on it: in the same way that they’d subsisted on nature, now they would give back to it with the death of their own.

It was a funerary ceremony I had never encountered before. The canonical ritual for the main branch of Heliocentrism was burial, so it was unusual to see such a practice in this country. But every group, every individual had a different way of dealing with death, of rationalizing it. None of us were about to object to their traditions. Not in this circumstance.

“...”

I kept my head down low. Both to avoid the setting Sun’s rays, as well as anyone else’s line of sight. Most of all, I didn’t want to look at the smoldering pile in front of me, the light of what used to be a human being’s life warming my face to an unbearable degree, beads of uncomfortable sweat rolling down my forehead.

My mind flashed to the conversation I’d had with the priest the previous day.

“So is that enough proof for you?” I hollered at Iscario in a nook hidden away from the villagers busily cleaning up after the boar’s rampage. “Or are you going to claim that he was the only human and everyone else is still a monster?”

“...” He returned my glare with a stony expression, and after a pause of hesitation, “...No, I won’t. I acquiesce. I was wrong. Call it an occupational disease. I guess I just wound up thinking along the same lines I usually do.”

“Is that all you have to say?” I yelled, taking a step forward. However―

“What else d’you want from him, huh?” A rebuttal came from an unexpected source: Rosalia, who’d been entirely silent up to that point. “Want a personal apology? Maybe you want one written by the Grand Cardinal himself? We’re here to solve a crime, and we won’t get anywhere if you blow up at every misfired accusation! He’s done a whole hell of a lot better than you, at least, in that he at least came up with something!”

“Please.” Iscario raised a hand to stop her irritated offensive. “We’ll get nowhere bickering. Now,” he said as he turned back to me, “if an apology is what you want, then I’ll gladly give you one. But what’s more important is what we do from here on. I will admit fault―I let my suspicions get the better of me. I believe I was the one who said that hurrying too much would only lead to mistaken conclusions. I failed to take my own advice. It was a shameful display.

“However, know that we don’t have infinite time. I may be dedicated to honoring my promise, but I alone don’t get to decide your fate by myself. If I let a vampire run free for too long, I will be the one getting penalized. I want you to keep that in mind, Vio Valakia.”

“...” The priest’s level-headed warning poured cool water over my flaring anger. I had no way to fire back. This couldn’t go on forever―it would have to end soon. The only question left was―who? Who would be the one to end it?

Words of appreciation rang out from an all-too-familiar stranger’s voice next to me. Words of appreciation for an old man’s life work, his contribution to the village. I heard none for the man himself―I doubted there was anyone left who could mouth them.

I looked down to the ground, even lower than before. I no longer had the luxury of choice―not that I’d ever had it to begin with. I needed to reveal the truth behind this case, and bring the perpetrator to justice.

But would anyone really be saved if I did? Would that girl be able to smile and accept her fate?

“―Tch.” I clicked my tongue, silently so that no one would hear me.

Accept her fate? What fate is that anyway? Who has the right to proclaim that she’s already a ghost on two feet? She’s still alive!

I balled my hands, gritting my teeth together as I focused on the tips of my shoes, faintly lit yellow by the fire. I was so tense that I failed to notice even as that pale light was snuffed out by a small shadow.

It wasn’t until a cold hand mercifully shielded my cheek from the fire’s warmth that I raised my face to see its owner―Rafi, looking at me with a tinge of inquisitiveness on her otherwise expressionless face. She must have been worried about me. It only occurred to me then that I hadn’t seen her in a while. And it only occurred to me then that she must have had worries of her own, that it wasn’t just me selflessly carrying her burdens upon my shoulders. And the realization of my arrogant frame of mind brought a murmured apology tumbling out of my mouth.

“...I’m… sorry.” There must have been a lot I ought to have said to her, but in that moment that was all I could come up with.

“Vio, right? You should smile at an occasion like this.” It was then that I noticed the young woman next to Rafi―Olga Eulogia, wearing a gentle smile on her face. Seeing her here brought me out of my reverie, and back into the present.

“...I don’t see why this occasion is anything to smile about.”

“This occasion is precisely when you should be smiling. I’m sure it would hurt grandpa Bolo to be seen off by morose faces. That’s why we’re all smiling for his sake.”

“Is that so?” For the first time, I looked up, above Olga’s face and into the smoke rising far into the sky.

It felt like my life had revolved around funerals lately. I wondered if Tina, and Vince before her, would have been sad that I hadn’t been able to wear a smile for them, at the end. And then I thought about how simpler my life would have been, if I’d been the kind of person capable of entertaining a question like that.

The old man won’t get to see any of those smiles. I stopped myself from mouthing the horrible comment on the tip of my tongue, and looked down again.

As the fire died down, the villagers began spreading into groups and talking amongst themselves. As everyone shuffled around me and pushed me around, I somehow found myself next to Sapria Valpurga.

“Oh, g-good evening,” I said. It just then occurred to me that it had technically been her husband’s error that had led to the old man’s death. After we exchanged pleasantries, I felt the need to reassure her. “Um, listen, it was kind of our fault as well for distracting them during their work, so if anyone says anything, we’ll definitely back Mr. Rhizanthes up, okay?”

“Huh?” She seemed confused at my reassurance. “Whatever for?”

“Oh, well, I just thought that your husband might be blamed for what happened…” I said discreetly.

“Ahh. You don’t need to worry about that. We would never consider it his fault.” She smiled at me. “It’s sad and useless to blame someone for a tragedy like this. All we can do is live on and get through it.”

“You must all be very kind people, then,” I said, looking down. As I thought back to the man sprawled out in bloody rags, I couldn’t help but feel guilt over it. Guilt that I couldn’t save him.

“I’d be glad if you thought so, but I don’t think it’s a matter of kindness,” Sapria went on, still smiling. “The world has its own rhythm, its own principles far grander than we could ever understand. Whatever befalls us, it all must fit within that rhythm, even if we can’t understand it. So it’s better to just accept it.”

“So you think everything happens for a reason…” I couldn’t help but scowl as I thought back to that scene. And then to the scene before it, of Rafi with that stake stuck in her back. What possible reason could justify those pathetic sights?

“We can’t do anything but accept it,” she said, looking up, “but you all are different.”

“Huh?”

“The holy men and women are the ones that actually decide. I mean, if Father Iscario hadn’t stopped that boar, we would have been helpless. Perhaps more people would have perished in its rampage. Thank you, thank you so much.”

“H-hold on, I’m not―” I tried to argue back, but as I looked into her eyes, I couldn’t say a word. The smoldering, almost extinguished fire looked reflected in her eyes like a powerful inferno. I had no idea what I should have said to her.

“Hey, it’s you!” Suddenly, a voice called out to us from behind me. Turning away from Sapira, I saw none other than Rhizanthes Valpurga, walking casually towards us. “Thanks for keeping my wife company.”

“N-no problem…” I mumbled a weak reply as I looked at him. He had that same cheerful smile on his face as ever.

As he settled next to the fire and gazed peacefully at it, putting his arm around his wife’s back, he muttered gently. “Man, real shame about poor Bolo.”

“...” I didn’t say anything.

“You know, I can’t believe he went out like that. I could’ve seen that wily old man tilling his soil for another ten years,” he continued.

“...” I stayed silent.

“You really never know who the world will take away next…”

“...Please, excuse me.” Saying so, I walked away from the Valpurga couple, swaying on unsteady legs but not waiting for a reply.

“You never did smile in the end, did you?” Olga asked me, her face a gentle mask.

After the burning ended, the villagers went their separate ways, Rhizanthes and the other hunters setting off for the forest with the body in tow. Rafi had disappeared somewhere. I aimlessly started walking in some random direction, but unexpectedly, Olga followed behind me.

I turned my head back to her, still walking. “...Neither did you.”

“...” She looked taken aback for a moment.

“Your mouth might have been smiling,” I added, “but it didn’t reach your eyes.”

The fake smile vanishing from her face, she studied me closely. Then finally, she lightly chuckled. “So you noticed. I guess I should try harder.

“You’re right. I tried to smile for grandpa Bolo, but I just couldn't manage it.” She looked up at the sky. “I can’t find anything to smile about. Not at a time like this.”

“...I’m glad,” I said, finally managing a pained grin of my own, “that there’s at least one person I can understand in this village.”

“You shouldn’t say that. It wasn’t just us, you know?” Olga pointed out with kind eyes. “Rafflesia wasn’t smiling either.”

“She…” Her words brought me to a halt. “She never smiles.”

“That’s right.”

“I wanted to be someone who could understand what’s going on under the surface with her. I wanted to be someone she could open up to. But I’ve not been able to manage a thing. I’ve not broken through to her at all. I just― I just don’t know what she’s thinking.”

“Then ask her.”

“Huh?” I looked up at Olga’s face. She put a hand on my shoulder.

“Just ask her, if you want to know what she’s thinking. It might be hard to understand her, but if you ask, I’m sure she’ll express it to the best of her ability. Just so you know, I can tell she’s grown quite attached to you.”

“I…”

“Or is it…” Olga continued, looking deep into my eyes, “that you’re afraid of knowing?”

“...!” She’d seen right through me. “Ha…haha. Wow, I really am a predictable coward, aren’t I?”

I couldn’t look away anymore, when someone brought it up to my face so directly.

“Thank you, Miss Olga. I’ll go look for her.”

I turned away from her, getting ready to run all over the village in search of that expressionless girl. Before I could do so, though, “Hey!” Olga called out to me one last time.

“Huh?” I turned my head to her.

“...Father Ixio was quite similar to you. He acted all stoic, but beneath that he was always awkwardly searching for ways to get closer to others. I just wanted you to know that.”

“...I see.” I thought about that man I’d never gotten to meet, the one who’d saved Rafi’s life at the cost of his own. He would have probably hated me. I smiled at the thought. “Thank you. Goodbye, Miss Olga.”

I ran all over the village. People shot me dubious looks as I turned every possible corner I could, but I didn’t mind.

Finally, as I traversed the path leading to the north exit of the village, a desolate road with nobody on it, I saw a dark shape beneath the setting sun: Rafi crouching on the ground, looking up at the windmill spinning in the distance.

When I saw her, I slowed my approach. She must have heard my footsteps, but she only turned to me once I’d gotten sufficiently close to her. She eyed me from below with the same expressionless face as ever.

I gave her a smile, leaning down to meet her at eye-level. “Hey, you’re exhausted, aren’t you?”

“...”

“You haven’t fed since becoming a vampire. The hunger might not have settled in yet, but you’re not at full strength, are you?”

“...”

“I’ll… I’ll give you my blood. It’s my responsibility, since I turned you into this. I won’t let Rosalia or Father Iscario shoulder the burden.”

“...When,” Rafi finally began, “you bit into me… I wasn’t awake, but―”

I listened intently, not interrupting her.

“―I saw things too. It wasn’t just you.”

“You mean you also saw some of my memories?”

She nodded slightly.

A few moments of silence later, I asked her. “...Are you afraid? Of seeing them again?”

“I… don’t know.” She looked down. She was being honest with me. She truly didn’t understand how she felt. I believed that.

“Well, I can understand being afraid. I’ve had to do this my whole life, but it must be a terribly confusing experience for you. I can’t do much about that.

“But at the very least, I can promise you you’re not going to see anything too bad. When I weigh it against the last few days, I come to realize I’ve had it exceptionally easy.”

“...” She just looked down at the ground, avoiding my line of sight. I guess my reassurances aren’t all that effective. I looked away, awkwardly rubbing the back of my head, but then―

“...Okay.” Rafi stood up, taking a step forward and coming closer to me.

“A-are you sure you’re fine with this?”

Rafi gave me a resolute nod, finally looking into my eyes. In response, I steeled my own expression.

I kneeled down on the ground, Rafi following suit. I took my jacket off, and rolled my sleeve up to the elbow. The white flesh of my right forearm exposed, I presented it to her, palm out such that she could see my arteries.

I nodded to her once more, and receiving that signal, with slow and uncertain movements, she got closer to it. I could feel her breath on my skin. And then, finally reaching it, she opened her mouth, fangs glistening in the twilight, and, with as much determination as she could muster―bit down.

I was hit with a slight pain, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle. I’d been the one biting into others up until now, so finally being able to know what it is they felt during those times was a reward that far outclassed the hurt.

I could feel the blood leaving my body, slowly but surely. Having fed just recently, I would regenerate the lost blood almost instantly. Even so, there was a slight dizziness that came with the experience, even as Rafi refrained from taking too much.

I kept my arm steady so as not to disturb her. I tried to keep my expression steady as well, though I doubted she’d be able to see it at that moment. After all―

Right now, Rafi is seeing inside my soul.

I was very literally sharing my life with her, giving her access to the most pure form of experience, memory unblemished by forgetfulness, the exact instant of perception as it had occurred for me. I couldn’t know what it was she saw, but I was ready to give her anything.

Finally, having gotten her fill, Rafi removed her face from my arm, her bangs hiding her eyes from me. Blood dripped from the sides of her mouth.

My wound healed almost instantly. I took out a handkerchief to wipe the remaining blood on my arm, and then moved it closer to her face in an attempt to wipe it as well, but then―

“...!” I noticed it, from the corners of her eyes.

Tears.

She was silently crying, the tears pouring down her face, eventually reaching her mouth and mixing with the blood. Her lips trembled as her eyes stared unfocused somewhere beyond me, beyond time.

I grabbed her shoulders. “Hey, what’s wrong? Why are you…?”

“―I don’t know,” she sobbed. “Why do I… feel like this?”

“―” I didn’t say anything else. I just wrapped my arms around her, burying her face into my chest. I didn’t need to ask. Not now, at least. I just let her sob silently, rubbing her soft hair.

I had been a coward, undeniably so. If it had just been me, I wouldn’t have minded the fact. I didn’t have all that much pride I needed to swallow down, so I was content to keep my head down and pretend to be lost forever.

But I wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

As I rubbed her hair with my left hand, I gazed at my right hand, the one she’d bitten into. I clenched it into a fist. I had to face the truth. Not for myself, but for her.

As I felt her weight against me, I thought about the night after Vince’s funeral. Tina never cried like this in front of me, never allowed me to comfort her like this. But I always knew I should have. I knew she’d probably needed it. I’d regretted it ever since, and I’d always continue to do so.

But at the very least, I wouldn’t allow myself to regret the same thing again.

“So what’s your angle, inviting me here alone like this? D’you like this view that much?” Sister Rosalia spat out that derisive comment.

“No, actually, I never wanted to step foot into this terrible place ever again. But given how my last time here went down, I figured I should come here once more just to give it a proper goodbye.” I gave her a meaningful look. “This will be the last time, after all.”

“Hah?” She raised an eyebrow, looking at me dubiously. “What are you planning, you critter?”

I chuckled, crouched down to the floor of the shed, the scene of the crime. The blood had long since seeped into the floorboards, the smell of iron never to come out of it.

I ran a finger along the ground, then examined it in the faint light of the torch. It was a sooty black, the dust and grime on the floor readily dirtying it.

I stood up, wiping my finger with my handkerchief as I resumed talking. “As for why I called you to come with me, well… I’ll admit it was for a pretty selfish reason.”

“Huh? You’d better not be wasting my damn time. I don’t got a whole lot of it, unlike you.”

“I don’t either. At least, not the kind of time in which I could talk to you like this. Once our deal is over, I doubt we’ll be on speaking terms. So I wanted to say it while I could―

“―Goodbye. I’ve enjoyed our time together. I wish it could have lasted longer.”

“...H-huh?”

“Honestly, I’d prefer leaving the case unsolved, if it meant getting more time to spend with you guys. But that can’t go on any longer. So I’d like to honor the end of this period properly. The brief time when a holy man and a sinner managed to shake hands.”

“W-what…” Rosalia stammered uncomfortably, looking at me like an incomprehensible beast. “What the hell are you on about? What do you mean ‘you’ve enjoyed our time together’? We’re enemies!”

“We will be, soon enough, I guess. But right now I’m not sure there’s any apt word for what we are. And―” I added with a coy smile, “―I happen to enjoy these undefinable relationships. Maybe that’s why I’ve found it so comfortable.”

“How the hell could you find it comfortable? I’ve been treating you like shit the whole time!” Rosalia yelled, seeming almost desperate.

I laughed. “We’re definitely not what you could call a good team. But you know,” I continued, “you’re a good person. Even with all the foul mouthed posturing, it’s pretty easy to tell. I can’t say I’ve led a particularly fruitful life so far, but my years haven’t been entirely wasted either―I’d like to think I’m at least that good a judge of character.”

“...” Rosalia stared at me, mouth agape, left with nothing to retaliate with.

“Father Iscario too―he’s someone I will probably never be able to see eye to eye with. I don’t know what will happen next, but―right now, in this moment, I don’t hate him. I think there’s worth in making that clear.”

Rosalia didn’t respond. I looked around the room, scanning each of the weathered walls of this cramped interior, drinking in the light spilling from within its gaps―and confirming the truth of what happened in this room.

“Well, I think that’s about it for this place. I’m ready to go when you are―I truly never want to set foot in here again.”

Swing.

I said my line with a carefree smile, but before I knew it, the tip of a silver spear was lined right beneath my eyes.

“U-um, this is―”

“I-I’m―” she stammered slightly, gritting her teeth then speaking again. “Of the 6th Division of the Thirteenth Chamber of the Phaethon, number IX, Sister of the Heliocentric Church―Rosalia X. Dornenkrone.

“And it’s my duty to exterminate you, vampire!”

She looked down and away from me, not letting me see her eyes. The spear quivered ever so slightly as she spoke, before becoming fixed into place, unmoving.

“I see,” I said, gently putting my hand on the side of the metallic tip and moving it slightly to the right of me. “I’m Vio Valakia―just your commonplace, ordinary vampire.

“It’s truly been a pleasure knowing you.”

And with that said, I removed my hand from the spear, slowly walking by her and leaving the storage shed. I shut the door behind me, never looking back.

In the end, I never offered any parting words for the decrepit building itself. I won’t bother to now, either. A place like this was best forgotten.

The nighttime chapel was illuminated by a few torches and the moonlight seeping through the high windows, its many corners left obscured by the dark. The actors on the scene were all in plain sight, and that was all that mattered.

Rafi sat on the front-most pew to the right, staring at me with her wide blue eyes, as expressionless as ever yet undoubtedly filled with anticipation.

Father Iscario sat on the front-most pew to the left, his arms crossed, wearing a dubious expression but waiting patiently for me to begin nonetheless.

Standing with her back to the left wall, Sister Rosalia looked away from me, as if waiting for the event to end, though showing no impatience.

And then there was me.

For what was undoubtedly the first time in my life, and also most likely the last, I stood behind the church pedestal, facing the audience. I would be the one delivering this sermon, though it was unlikely to provoke any peace in the hearts of the listeners.

“Shall we?” The priest prompted me.

“Yeah―

“―Let’s end this. I’m ready for the denouement.”