Bird Kiss.
This innocent kiss is nothing more than a light touch of the lips, like a small bird bumping its beak.
I don't know who named it, but I thought it was a good name.
The way she pecked at my flesh with her pale pink lips, like ripe prickly pears, made me think of a newborn bird.
Not a cuddly parrot, though, but a carcass-pecking crow. At least, that's how it looked to me at this moment.
''My Lord. I am your finger. A mere child----''
''Chu.''
''All, under your power---- shall rest all things on this earth----''
''Chu.''
''The glory of that, ah, all----!''
''Chu.''
''Dedicated to you---- Kut, saint, be still for a moment!''
''Chu.''
I'm going crazy.
Every time I attempted to recite a healing prayer, a lurid waveform of echoes that seemed to threaten to disrupt it constantly disturbed my consciousness.
Clumsy kisses that were mysteriously sensual, yet tinged with a wistfulness that tickled my back. The whole affair embraced an otherworldly decadence that made me wonder if it was a divine intervention designed to completely melt away my rationality.
Her silken white hair, lush and tousled over her body, had lost none of its original brilliance, and her unnatural weight on my thighs was a constant arousal of the bodily sensations that had been trying to scatter and stir the lust within me.
An ecstatic floating sensation, as if someone was forcibly digging up the vein of lust I had buried deep in the recesses of my mind. It was a trial of fascination I would never have endured if I hadn't been trained to suppress my emotions during my priestly training.
''Saint!''
He jumped to his feet, trying to clear his head of the disturbing thoughts.
Then, like a child caught by a parent with a sneaky snack, I saw the saintly figure of the saintly woman, who quickly hid her crimson hands, stained with terrible scars, behind her back as she watched me closely.
I knew what that blunt demeanor, that disgruntled look in her eyes, meant.
That was a declaration of intent: 'I will not let you heal this hand if you do not lower your body's altitude so that I can kiss it.
I'm freaking out. Really.
''Saint. Didn't we not make a pact? Except for your lips, I will not allow you to kiss any part of my body this time, so you will cooperate in healing my hand in the meantime.''
''----''
''But you don't even give me a chance to finish my prayer, and you keep doing that----, isn't it the case that you're pressing your lips against mine! You've been sneakily pressing your lips against mine since earlier----, and I can't concentrate on my prayer if you keep doing that. If you keep delaying the treatment time like this, and I end up with an indelible scar on my hand, what will you do----!''
''----''
The unaccustomed yelling sapped my mental strength to lift the floor.
A sting.
His stomach churned.
If the scars on the venerable saint's body leaked outward, the level of punishment that would befall me would be something from the abyss, far beyond my tiny imagination.
Therefore, I had to heal the wound in her hand as quickly as possible, and destroy any other evidence that might remain.
Even if I didn't do anything, there was no way the other members of the sect would believe me if I said that the saint had harmed herself on her own accord, and even if they did, it wouldn't make a difference because the entire sect would want to tear me limb from limb for abetting her self-harm.
''I'll do it----.''
''Haah----.''
Seeing the saint, who may or may not be aware of my anxiety, rushing at me like a bulldozer to satisfy her own greed, I felt a cringe of irritation, and the nightmarish words that used to haunt me on social media suddenly came back to me.
Is this what you want me to do?
Yes, this must be how you feel.
In my previous life, it was a good thing that I'd come to understand a little bit more about the woman who couldn't even fathom Lin's decision, but it was little consolation, as the current situation that was the source of this fantasy hadn't changed.
More than that, I couldn't understand why she was so obsessed with something as insignificant as my lips.
She'd been known to be ridiculously stubborn before, but usually within the compromise lines I'd drawn. This was a new side of her I'd never seen before, one that was so stubbornly assertive.
I wonder if she's just awakened to the frog-like instinct of children who want to do more when adults tell them no, and I hope she'll put up with it.
''----Saint. That's enough----. Hurry up and give me your hand----.''
''I will----. I'll---- do it----.''
As if intimidated by my firm demeanor, the saint hesitantly backed away. She didn't seem to have any intention of breaking her stubbornness.
One would think I was trying to steal her valuables. I'm the one whose precious breakfast time is being exploited.
Oh, crap. I'm going to have to eat a potato for breakfast after all. I'm so happy to be alive. Just like that.
Just. I turned my gaze to my wristwatch, which was still singing a regular tune in spite of my erratic heartbeat. Nine-thirty. Breakfast had ended long ago in the evening, and I couldn't afford to delay any longer.
''I can't help it, I'll have to use my last resort.
''Welna. You promised your brother.''
''----!''
Ordinarily, for a priest who is supposed to protect the safety and authority of a holy woman with his life, to speak against her, let alone to claim the vulgar title of 'brother' and pretend to be her family, would be a crime of such grave blasphemy that he would be stripped of his title and beheaded on the spot.
For me, the title of 'big brother' is a magic word, one that possesses enough merit to make the aforementioned demerits worth it.
''A promise is a promise that must be honored unless there are unavoidable circumstances, and since you gave Welna what she wanted, you should give her what you want. You want Welna to accept the treatment for her hand gracefully.''
''Aww----.''
''You don't like Welna who doesn't keep her promises.''
''Aaah, aaah----! Aaah!''
For the first time, she showed emotions of agitation at my words and actions.
It meant that my words as her 'big brother' were of great importance to her.
Her pathetic behavior, alternating between glancing at her injured hand and my face, was stirring protective feelings, but the negative ions from the irritation of having lost precious breakfast time were easily outweighed by the positive emotions.
Yuck.
''----Good.''
I would have said that a long time ago.
After a bit of a pause, the saintly lady finally offered me her injured hand.
After that, everything went smoothly. I prayed, I healed, and this time there were no interruptions. The saint's wounds were neatly healed, and the traces of blood scattered around her were cleaned up, so it would be safe to say that the job was done.
Someone might say to me, "You know what?
"Why didn't you just use your brother Chance from the beginning, and everything would have been smooth sailing," is a fair question. In fact, I'm not too far off the mark.
But.
I have a lot of mental resistance to the idea of asking an older, older girl to do this or that for me while calling me a big brother, because I honestly feel like a parasitic orphan who clings to women and makes a living from them, or a male prostitute.
The closest I can compare it to is how I feel when I look at an acquaintance who is sometimes a bit too introverted, or a Japanese idol who speaks in the third person, which is the way they say their own name.
It's like playing small talk with a fully grown adult with the mental age of a 5-year-old, and you can't fully appreciate the strange sensation that tickles your back until you experience it for yourself.
Anyway, from this point on, I survived what could have been the biggest crisis of my life.
Today's kissing incident was a minor blip on the radar of a poorly curated children's book, and if we're careful in the future, it won't happen again.
Children get tired of things quickly, and what happened today would probably be erased from her mind by tomorrow.
It was only a few days later that my carefree thoughts were shattered into a million pieces.
''Holy Mother----. It's time for breakfast----.''
''I'm going to do it.''
Jesus