* * *
I could see why astronauts returning to Earth would swoon the moment they hit the ground once again.
I could barely get my legs to work as the nausea I felt after bouncing around on the trampoline was magnified a thousandfold by the discomfort I felt immediately afterward when I repeated the jump on flat ground.
Somewhere in between was a sense of accomplishment that I had done my part and a whitish feeling of exhaustion that slowly seeped into my tense body.
This tired sensation of consciousness floating somewhere in the middle was so exhausting and exhausting that I don't think I could ever replicate it unless I ran a long marathon on a drunken day.
''Priest!''
The first thing that greeted me after my narrow escape from the dimensional chasm known as the Real Reality was the lightly fluffy feel of the finest wool quilt and the anxious voice of a nun from above.
''Are you all right, priest, wake up!''
The masculinity in me that was trying to somehow feel the softness of her embrace despite my ragged state of mind and body felt a little bit decadent, but I didn't know if I had the strength left to resist this exquisite comfort, so I gave in involuntarily.
''----Sue, Sister?''
''Phew----. Fortunately, your consciousness seems to be intact----.''
This guy. You're the type who looks thin when you wear it.
While I was marveling at the unexpectedly great discovery, seeing the usually calm and composed Sister's bustling behavior, which I had never seen before, I suddenly realized that I hadn't made a post-mortem report yet, and my parched lips twitched in surprise.
''Ah----. As for Saintess's persuasion case----. It went well----.''
He lifted his hand, which felt as heavy as a steel bar, and gave a thumbs up, signaling that he had successfully disarmed the bomb.
''Haah----. ''Yeah, of course.''
A sigh of frustration and a hint of reproach in his voice.
Wondering if I had made another mistake, I forced my head, which was creaking like rust, up to meet the nun's gaze.
''You're still the same priest----.''
As if reminiscing about something, the nun's eyes were filled with a hint of dignity.
A legitimate question flashed through my mind, though I wondered if there was anything between us that could have caused such a poignant expression, even though we had maintained a thin and long relationship since our days as apprentice priests, a relationship where we only knew each other by name and face.
Given the urgency of the moment, it was best to put aside the question that would take a long time to answer.
''Sister----. I'm afraid my body isn't listening to me right now----. Would you be so kind as to carry me to where Father Lovell is?''
''Yes----. No problem----.''
I showed the nun my left hand, which was barely able to move the tips of my fingers, and asked her to help me.
I felt a small surge of male pride as she lifted my body off the ground and threw her arms around my neck with such ease, as if she were plucking radishes from a field.
Feeling genetically inferior to a woman who was stronger than me hadn't spread to a lingering bruise on my chest, thanks to my second and third rounds of immunizations.
''What the hell was going on inside----. ''Apparently, you also used the healing miracle on yourself once----.''
''I'll explain the details as we go----.''
The horse was being dragged along, not supported, but completely surrendered to the nun.
I suddenly remembered a story I had seen in an animal documentary about a special crab that lives with coral on its back.
The crab acts as a bridge for the coral, which would otherwise be immobilized, and protects it from all kinds of threats. In return, the coral provides the crab with shelter and mucus for food, a symbiotic relationship.
I wonder if my current state, where I'm just sitting on a subject with no shelter or slime to offer, is more like parasitism than symbiosis. I've never felt so inferior to a coral in my life.
Like that.
Perhaps because the shock to my mind hadn't healed yet, my racing brain was wasting brain capacity with useless thoughts.
''Heh!''
Immediately after I heard a cute little scream from someone I couldn't identify, my well-carried body was suddenly thrown to the ground.
''Ah.''
My body's senses were still recovering, so the pain I felt wasn't too severe, but the 180˚ reversal of my vision without any warning was enough to make me think that the world had turned upside down for a moment.
''Sin, sin, sin, I'm sorry. Priest! Are you all right!''
The nun quickly closed the distance between us in a rare display of panic.
The sight of her hugging her vestments tightly, especially close to her breasts, and with a face that reminded me of a ripe tomato, as she searched my body for any holy spot, was enough to stir up an ominous gale in my imagination, and to give me a sense of power that would last.
And then, ever so faintly, the tip of my left hand's middle finger, the slightest reverberation of which I could feel, touched something soft, and the peculiarly tantalizing sensation of its touch threw a spark into that storm of foreboding.
''Excuse me----. Sister----. Don't tell me I'm----.''
''Don't tell me! I know you didn't do it on purpose, and I know you didn't do it on purpose! More than that, Sister, I need to check your wounds! You've already used your prayers for the day, and if you should happen to suffer another great wound while you're still unwell, I'll have to----.''
''Sister----. Do you think I----.''
''Oh, don't tell me! I don't think you've broken anything, thank goodness! But just in case, I'll have your doctor, or any other priest who can spare a hand, summoned as soon as you're done----.''
''I don't want my hand to end up on Sister's chest, even if it is----.''
''I told you not to say it-!!!''
The hood on her head was taken off in an instant and thrown towards my face, and as if releasing the emotions she had been harboring, Sister let out a fierce scream.
Hiss, hiss, hiss.
She was not breathing, but it was as if she was gathering her emotions.
Her ruddy face and light blue hair, which contrasted with her flushed face, were so transparent that it seemed as if they would disappear if released into the air, and the fierce blue eyes that stared back at her and the single teardrops that formed at the bottom of them were so eerie that one might think they were an artistic device to subtly illustrate the pitifulness inherent in her stoicism.
If I could only bring up the disheveled state of the nun I had witnessed through the hood that had fallen from her face at a drinking party with the other priests, I would be the center of attention, but I had to bite down hard on my lower lip to stop myself from doing so, as it would risk sinking my hard-won life into a bottomless abyss once again.
''Now, stop talking nonsense and give me your hand again! ''Guardian Priest of Rages!''
''Yes----.''
I couldn't say anything as his eyes threatened to tear my mouth out if I spoke one more useless word.
And so, as I was being carried towards Priest Ranovel with the support that accompanied the Sister's noble sacrifice, my sinful hand, still under anesthesia, was guilty of groping her chest a couple more times.
''Hmph, hmph, hmph----.''
''----''
Apparently thinking that I wouldn't notice if I didn't show it, I barely swallowed back the groan that was about to burst out, and it was quite a struggle to pretend that I didn't notice Sister's constant and futile efforts to walk nonchalantly.
The left hand had saved his life just moments before, but was this how he was going to pay for saving his master's life by stabbing him in the back?
I've heard stories of "monkey hands" that grant their owners' wishes in a twisted way, but I've never heard of "monkey hands" that disregard their owners' wishes and pursue their desires at will.
Even a cartoon I once saw about an alien race that parasitized on human hands was worse than this.
At least they were able to communicate.
Shinichi. I want to touch your boobs. Don't.
The thought flashed through his mind that it wasn't just physical fatigue that made this hallway, so familiar to him from his daily walks, somehow seem dozens of times longer than usual.
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