A Lion Among Sheep

【POV: Yuria】

The large dining room was bathed in elegant cream hues. A vintage crystal chandelier dangled from the ceiling. Morning sunlight streamed through the French windows, illuminating the polished oak tabletop where the bone-white porcelain sets were arranged with millimetric precision. The smell of toast swirled together with the aroma of high-grade Arabica coffee.

I occupied my usual seat, across from my dad. Mom was at the far end, quietly buttering her toast.

「Have a little more salad.」 Her voice gentle yet laced with an undeniable air of command. 「You indulged a bit too much in Kyōto recently, it's time for a detox.」

「Okay.」 I served myself a piece of lettuce, doing my best to appear perfectly submissive.

My dad placed the tablet he'd been using for the morning news onto the table. Behind his gold-rimmed spectacles, his eyes were solemn.

「The Priest will be delivering a sermon on the Gospel of Luke today. Mind that you listen well, and do not doze off.」

A cherry tomato almost went down the wrong way.

「Yes... I know, last week was simply because I... was up late with my studies.」

The truth was, I'd been up all night playing C.O.R.E with my crew. Obviously, if my parents found out I was "wasting my life on mindless violent games" instead of reading the Bible, they'd probably have a heart attack.

I lowered my gaze, slowly cutting into a sausage. To them, Kanda Yuria was the model of a pious daughter—well-behaved, high-achieving. A gentle lamb of Christ.

Little did they know, beneath that flawless exterior, my soul was chanting heresies: Pantheism. Mackie. The Death of God.

I let out a tiny smirk, immediately hiding it behind my orange juice.

If they knew I had made a Covenant with Yahweh Herself, and was currently friends with Her... they'd pass out. Or, more likely, they'd haul me to the square and burn me like it was the Dark Ages.

No matter. This is the ascent of the Übermensch. I dwell among the flock, but I carry the spirit of a wolf... no, a lion.

「I'm finished.」 I set down my fork and knife, dabbing my mouth with a napkin.

「Good.」 My dad replied with a nod. 「Go get ready. We're heading out in fifteen.」

Yet another mind-numbing Sunday morning at church. Another earful of sermons about guilt and redemption, while the actual Almighty was just lounging around at home. Life truly is a black comedy.

I went upstairs to change. The silver crucifix against my chest swung with my stride—icy and leaden.

Whatever. At least the wifi is decent. I'll just scroll through Reddit for some new theology memes.

The Kanda family's jet-black sedan glided silently through the streets of Nagasaki. Its premium German air suspension made every speed bumps felt non-existent.

Rested my brow against the pane, my breath exhaling a faint fog that vanished at once within the cabin's perfectly regulated temperature. Outside, the city stirred. Sunday's sun was vibrant but sharp, an eye-watering dazzle.

To my left, the well-kept rows of trees bordering the Peace Park blurred past. And then, the Peace Statue came into view—its right arm raised toward the sky in warning, its left arm reaching out in a gesture of everlasting peace.

That invisible weight hits me every time I drive through here. The air feels dense, heavy with the presence of tens of thousands who were vaporized in a flash that August in 1945.

I wonder... what was Mari doing then?

Did she watch as that cloud swallowing the city? Did she hear the cries of the scorched spirits? Or was she busy gazing at some galaxy newly born billions of light-years away, while this tiny explosion on Earth was nothing more than a speck of dust in her eye?

In any case, she lacked a human heart back then. To reproach a celestial being for the atrocities of humanity is like holding a hurricane responsible for an uprooted tree. Totally futile.

The sedan cleared the memorial area. Then came the familiar climb toward Urakami Cathedral, the red bricks of the bell tower vibrant against the deep blue horizon.

The engine stilled.

「We're here, sir.」 The chauffeur spoke to my father in a dutiful murmur.

I gave a brief nod and opened the door to step out. The sun was glaring. And so, Sunday began once again.