Chapter 21: The Uncontrollable Heart

Emil could hear Yanis’s voice from within his room. As always, Yanis was kindly inquiring after everyone’s well-being. This warmth was extended even to the elderly nun, who typically treated him with coldness. Emil’s heart fluttered simply from the sound of that voice. He yearned to rush downstairs and see the man’s face.

Yanis would surely greet him with a bright smile if he descended. How deeply he missed that smile.

However, Emil contented himself with merely envisioning the scene in his mind. The more he saw Yanis, the more his feelings would grow beyond his control. Emil readily understood that this emotion would not easily fade. It was love, and it was desire. Having just ignited, it would take time for it to fully cool.

Emil buried his face in his pillow and closed his eyes. His breath grew increasingly ragged. He wished he could simply lose consciousness, hoping to regain it only after Yanis had departed. Though Yanis’s voice was no longer audible from within the consultation room, intermittent bursts of laughter hinted at the lively atmosphere downstairs.

Yanis was a genuinely good man, always approaching others with sincerity. Moreover, his skills were exceptional. Even those within the Order, who were typically exclusionary towards Espers, would undoubtedly fall for his inherent charm.

“Just for a moment…”

A mere moment would have sufficed. He wasn’t even asking for time alone with Yanis. No, simply being among others, sharing conversation in a space where Yanis’s scent lingered, would have been enough.

Just a little, just for a brief while.

The lingering emotions, refusing to fade, utterly bewitched Emil. Though he knew he wasn’t thinking clearly, he allowed himself to feel without restraint. He slipped from the bed, curling his body and pressing his ear to the floor, as if doing so might transmit the sounds from downstairs.

Yet, all that reached him was the cold chill and a dull ringing in his ears; the man’s voice, which Emil so desperately longed to hear, was utterly absent. Nevertheless, Emil clasped his hands tightly and focused his entire being on the floor below. His expression remained calm, but tears silently streamed from his eyes.

How much time had passed? It seemed he had briefly drifted off to sleep. One of his cheeks felt cold from lying on the floor for so long. Emil registered a slight chill but made no move to rise, feeling too listless to find any reason to do so.

It was then.

*Knock, knock.*

“Emil.”

A knock accompanied a voice calling Emil from beyond the door. At that sound, Emil rose from his spot as if under a spell. Suppressing his footsteps, he walked quietly towards the door. He didn’t need to ask who the voice belonged to; he already knew.

“…Emil?”

“…!”

Emil gasped, silently covering his mouth. It was the last cry of reason he had left. With his hand still pressed over his lips, Emil leaned his ear against the door. Through the wood, the man’s gentle concern permeated.

“Are you asleep? Are you feeling unwell?”

“…”

“No answer, so I can’t tell.”

The man quietly murmured to himself. Surprisingly, even with the person he so yearned to see right outside, Emil reacted with composure. It was a stark contrast to his earlier frantic tears and disoriented actions.

“Emil.”

Again, Yanis called his name. Yet Emil remained silent.

“Yanis!”

A voice from outside called Yanis. It was one of the parishioners who helped with building maintenance.

“Why are you standing here? Why don’t you go in?”

“I don’t think Emil is here. Do you know where he is?”

“Raphael? Well, I haven’t seen him go out today. Ah, though I did hear the Nun say he seemed unwell.”

“Is that so? Then he must have fallen asleep. I’ll have to come back later.”

Yanis continued conversing with the parishioner as they descended the stairs. Hearing the man’s footsteps fade away, Emil sank back down to the floor.

‘Well done, Emil.’

Emil held his breath, silently commending himself for overcoming the temptation. Yes, if he could just maintain this distance, little by little, he would be alright.

****

For several days thereafter, Emil devoted himself entirely to mass. He attended every service, from dawn until evening vespers, spending any remaining time immersed in scripture.

He didn’t venture into the village either. Should he encounter Jack, the memory of that day would surely resurface, bringing him torment. Recalling his mother proved equally distressing.

‘Was this adultery? Since they weren’t married yet, was it permissible?’ Regardless, it was utterly different from anything Emil had learned in seminary.

Considering his feelings for Yanis, the relationship between Lauren and Yanis, and the affair between Jack and Lauren all at once, Emil felt as though he were committing a sin just by thinking. Thus, mass was the only refuge Emil could choose.

Any remaining hours he dedicated to service. When Emil, soon to be a priest, volunteered to help with odd jobs, people vehemently tried to dissuade him. Yet, he refused to yield.

“A priest is not someone revered by all, but the lowest of all. There is nothing I cannot do.”

When he spoke thus, people could no longer stop Emil. He lived a busy life, but he never emerged from his room during the hours Yanis came for his clinic. When he offered the excuse of quietly praying alone for the Priest, people harbored no particular suspicion.

Despite Yanis’s daily visits, the Priest’s illness continued to worsen. People began to whisper, wondering if Yanis was perhaps casting a curse upon the Priest. Even when the Priest himself stepped forward to declare that his condition was improving thanks to Yanis, public opinion showed no sign of changing.

Such views were all too common. People believed that just as the Order rejected Espers and Guides, Espers and Guides would, in turn, despise the Order.

Of course, Emil knew well that Yanis was not such a person. The Priest, too, was favorably disposed towards Yanis.

However, the Priest was elderly and frail. He was at an age where his retirement would not be unusual. It was possible that due to old age, the medicine was no longer effective, yet no one considered that possibility.

The public’s judgment of Yanis was irrelevant to Emil. He had resolved not to become entangled with Yanis. He would begin his prayers before Yanis arrived and remain engrossed in them until the man departed. While concentrating was difficult at first, he gradually managed to block out the sound of Yanis’s voice drifting up from downstairs.

“Emil.”

After his consultations concluded, Yanis would come to Emil’s room every day. He had probably noticed, too, that Emil was intentionally avoiding him. Yanis always knocked three times on Emil’s door, calling his name, and waiting for a reply.

The door was always left ajar, so he could have simply entered. Yet, he never once did. While Emil felt a sense of relief from Yanis’s respectful behavior, there was also an inexplicable pang of disappointment.

“I was worried when you didn’t come yesterday. Is something wrong?”

The previous night had been the day they were originally scheduled to meet and talk. And on that specific day, Yanis had not come to see the Priest for his consultation. If he attended to all the villagers and the Priest, he wouldn’t have enough time to meet with Emil. Emil knew he needed to say that their meetings would be difficult to continue, but he couldn’t bring himself to voice it.

“Is there a problem? Did I make some mistake towards you?”

There was no mistake. He had merely extended his kindness out of habit.

The root cause lay with Emil himself. It was his own problem, having harbored feelings for Yanis.

Harboring impure thoughts for his mother’s fiancé, feeling lust for a man when he was destined to be a priest—all of it was solely Emil’s sin.

Emil wanted to cry out that Yanis was innocent, that he bore no sin. Yet, he could utter nothing aloud. Emil gritted his teeth and bit his lower lip, so fiercely that his dry lips cracked and began to bleed.

Yanis stood there for a long time, awaiting Emil’s answer, before finally descending the stairs once more. That period felt longer than any other.

The torment came at night. Though he wished to avoid it entirely, Emil was powerless against Yanis visiting him in his dreams.

‘Emil.’

The Yanis in his dreams was far more tender. Undoubtedly, his memories were distorted, mingled with Emil’s own emotions and desires. Even knowing this truth, Emil found himself unable to tear his gaze away from the dream-Yanis. He gently cupped Emil’s cheek and embraced his waist, just as he would his mother.

‘Ah, Yanis.’

Emil couldn’t push Yanis away. He was simply too… too longed for, to be treated harshly. While holding Emil, Yanis whispered softly.

‘Show me your back.’

‘Let me worship your God.’

‘Please.’

How could he possibly refuse such an earnest plea? Yanis’s voice was so desperate, so sweet. As if entranced, Emil turned his back, and Yanis clung to him fervently, his hands tracing Emil’s spine. He praised that cross, that God who did not save the man.

Usually, Emil would wake up around this point. The Yanis in his dreams never kissed him. Perhaps that was a small mercy.

However, that night was different. That night, Yanis was more ardent than usual, more insistent. Eventually, Yanis’s lips touched his back. In that instant, the memory of that day surged back vividly: the image of the man so tenderly kissing his back, and even the subsequent memory of his wet dream.

“No!”

With a shout, Emil finally bolted upright. Cold sweat slicked his entire body. He sat there, dazed and bewildered, before slowly drawing his knees to his chest.

‘How truly weak are humans? Evil had infiltrated even his subconscious, provoking his sinful nature.’ Despite all his desperate efforts, there was nothing he could control.

“Haaah…”

It was beyond despair; it was terrifying. What if he could never forget this man for the rest of his life? What if he became a priest, and still harbored such feelings for Yanis?

“Ah!”

At that moment, a cold drop of water fell onto his neck. Emil wiped his neck, confirming its identity. Though cold, it was just ordinary water.

“Where did this water…”

He had surely heard that the roof had been repaired before he arrived. Not even on rainy days had water leaked. So where was this water coming from?

“Ah…!”

As he looked around, another drop of water fell directly onto the crown of his head.

“What on earth is this—”

Rubbing the top of his head, Emil squinted, gazing at the ceiling, where a faint sight began to emerge. Something seemed to be hanging from the wooden ceiling, though he couldn’t quite discern what. As his eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, the scene before him slowly revealed itself. The entire ceiling was frozen solid, with long icicles hanging down and ice flowers blooming in various spots.

From the icicle directly above Emil’s head, drops of water steadily fell. Looking closer, he saw that ice had formed on the walls as well, and his breath turned visible with every exhale.

Emil watched the sight in silence, then reached out to touch the ice on the wall. It was cold. Yet, Emil felt no chill himself.

“…”

He carefully got off the bed. The floor, too, was imbued with a coldness. Slipping on his slippers, he cautiously made his way to the door, opened it, and stepped out.

“…It can’t be.”

The hallway, like Emil’s room, was completely frozen. It resembled an ice castle. As he took a step onto the floor, frozen solid like a winter lake, the ice beneath his foot naturally melted. Similarly, with another step, it vanished again.

“…”

The series of inexplicable events that had occurred one after another now came to mind.

The Priest and Nuns, whose conditions hadn’t improved despite treatment. The cold he alone hadn’t felt. The child’s comment about the church being cold. The incidents that had begun back at the seminary.

In that moment, all the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place.

“…It was me.”

The root cause of everything was none other than Emil himself.

Emil Reardon.

He was an Esper.