Chapter 10: Things I Shouldn’t Have Asked

“I’m in trouble…”

As I grind coffee beans at home, I wrack my brain.

Sure, I did tell Saran to “do as you please,” but things have ended up… well, quite troublesome. That guy seems intent on spinning tales about how close Fimia and I are.

Apparently, according to the myths of the Sardinian Orthodox Church, the legendary hero and the saint are meant to be “like that.” But why on earth does that apply to Fimia and me? There must be some reason… probably. At least, in Saran’s scheme of things.

Grinding the beans once, then again, but no good ideas come to mind. Maybe I should have swallowed my pride and asked Saran for help instead of storming off and leaving him behind. Well, that ship has sailed.

Eventually, I finish brewing the coffee without coming up with a plan and slump down at the table, sighing. As I finish sighing, there’s a knock at the door.

Knowing who it is, I open the door without bothering to reply. Standing there is Fimia, holding luggage.

“Saran told me to start living here from today…”

“Yeah, I’ve heard. The furniture’s already been brought in, so make yourself at home.”

“Can you tell me what’s going on?”

At her words, I’m taken aback. Did that jerk just send Fimia over without saying anything? And did she agree without even thinking about it? What the hell is going on?

Well, this place does serve as a party headquarters, so it would be harsh to refuse outright.

“What about Saran?”

“He just said it was necessary.”

“What do you think?”

“Probably a plan to keep me away from the Church.”

That conniving, bespectacled man! Did he manipulate Fimia by withholding information and leading her on? Damn.

“For now, just put your luggage down. This is something we need to discuss properly together.”

“Really? Okay, just give me a moment then.”

With light footsteps, Fimia heads upstairs. Watching her go, I suddenly realize something. Despite outwardly complaining, I don’t feel as opposed to this situation as I should.

For example, if Fimia wasn’t involved with Rolo… I might have gladly accepted this situation. I seem to have accepted this nonexistent scenario to some extent.

“Hmm…”

This isn’t good at all. It’ll be too late if something happens inadvertently. And I don’t trust my self-restraint too much, especially when it comes to matters of love and lust.

When it comes to warfare, my self-restraint disappears in an instant. But when it comes to matters of love and lust, there’s no convenient story about how my self-restraint is normal. Once the fire is lit, I’ll surely make a mess.

“Why the troubled face, Jurg?”

“It’s times like these that you confess to the Church, right?”

“If you’d like, you can confess to me instead?”

The one person I find it most difficult to talk to smiles and tilts her head. It’s awkward, but before confessing, we need to get on the same page about the current situation.

“Fimia, I want to confirm something… Am I really a hero?”

“Yes, you are. You’ve already repelled the ‘culling’,’ after all.”

“Was the Scarred Beast really part of that ‘culling’? Wasn’t it just a ruse to deceive us?”

At my words, Fimia shakes her head slightly.

“It was indeed self-proclaimed, but it’s true that you exerted the power of a hero. You must have been aware of it, right?”

At that time… I did feel an abnormal surge of power, and above all… I still remember the feeling of crushing that ‘twisted soul.’ But I never really thought about what it was, maybe just assuming it was some special strengthening magic that Fimia cast. I never imagined it would become such a big deal.

“I see… Alright, let’s leave it at that. So, um, about that. According to Saran, I have to be with you.”

“In old traditions, that’s how it goes. The ‘saint’ sanctifies the hero and supports them. That’s the general teaching of the Church.”

“Right, um… Well, never mind. I get it now. Sorry, but if needed, please act accordingly.”

Fimia, who had approached me as I looked away, stretches up to reach both of my cheeks with her hands.

Feeling the slightly cool and soft sensation, I’m slightly surprised, but Fimia stares at me intently.

“You’re hiding something, aren’t you, Jurg?”

“Even the Church has rules about confidentiality. Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, I’m glad you remembered what I told you.”

Fimia smiles, but still shakes her head while smiling.

“But that won’t do. Please tell me.”

“Give me a break.”

“If you don’t, I’ll seek advice from Saran-san.”

“Give me a bigger break.”

If that sneaky glasses-wearing guy puts any more ideas into her head, it could become even more disastrous. That’s something I absolutely want to avoid.

“Okay, okay, let go.”

“Sure, here you go.”

Releasing my cheeks, Fimia sits down on the chair with a graceful posture. She’s sitting so straight, it’s an unambiguous “listening posture” that can’t be misconstrued. Oh well, might as well spill it.

“I wanted to confirm something about what you said earlier, about supporting… Does that include… um… romantic support between a man and a woman?”

The smile freezes on Fimia’s face, and she blushes crimson up to her ears in no time.

See, I knew I shouldn’t have asked.

“W-w-why would you ask such a thing?”

“Because Saran put that idea into my head…!”

“E-e-eh…”

Fimia covers her face with her hands and starts fidgeting with her feet, making me feel embarrassed too. Oh, come on… I feel like I’ve turned back into a real virgin kid.

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