Why must sin taste so bitterly sweet (fyozai)

Chapter 9

Fyodor sat in his usual spot beneath the trees during his lunch break with a perplexed expression on his face, lying on his blanket and staring up at the glaringly bright sun above that just couldn't seem to melt the snow and ice that had blanketed the entire courtyard for months now.

"Is the Sinner correct in what it says? Have I truly abandoned you, my Lord?" He muttered to the pale blue sky above as he reached out his hand above him. "Perhaps I have? What other explanation could there be for this sick yearning buried deep in my chest, my Lord? For the gruesome pull that continues to draw me ever closer to the damnation of eternal flames. For the horrific allure of such a sinful being. A creature that I once considered to be nought but a pitiful caricature of myself, unknowingly drowning itself in rivers of sin as it sits stealing breaths of pure air made possible only by the Lord's magnificent domain. But now, as I discover more and more seems to be becoming so much more similar to my own self."

He was unsure as to why the Sinner's words had struck such a chord with him. Why was he questioning himself like this? Why was he questioning his Lord like this? Why was his image of Osamu beginning to seem more and more like an image of himself with every day that passes?

He did his best to push these thoughts aside as he stood and began making his way to class but no matter what he did they still continued to claw away at the walls of his skull, clamouring to be heard over the dull drivel of his mathematics teacher.

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After school he had decided to wander around town rather aimlessly for a while, he had visited the park his mother had always used to take him to and sat on the swings for a little while, scaring off any of the young children that wanted to use them themselves. He'd sat there staring blankly at the floor below him as he rocked ever so slightly back and forth for what he imagined was around an hour or so as concerned parents of children playing on the other equipment glanced his way or even came up to him to ask if he were alright as one or two did. He simply waved them off without saying a word, watching his feet shifting minutely as they pushed the swing back and forth.

Standing up from the swing with a sigh, Fyodor began to make his way back home. He didn't dare stay any longer. He knew they'd probably be having dinner a little earlier than usual tonight, and he didn't particularly want to find out how his father would react to him showing up late.

He found out as he passed by the clock tower that he had, in fact, been at the park for closer to two hours than to one; the discovery made him pause in disbelief for a moment before he immediately began to quicken his pace, his heart beginning to pound away heavily in his chest. There was no way he'd be getting off lightly on this one. Today was the day his father had invited his fiancé over for dinner. He'd said something or other about having news to share with the two of them. Showing up late to something like this where he'd be embarrassing his father in front of someone else? He might as well have been begging for death.

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"Fedya! You're here just in time. Your father should be arriving any minute now." His mother greeted him cheerfully, wrapping him in a tight embrace as he burst in through the door, slightly out of breath. "He got a little caught up at work, but he won't be much longer, I believe."

Fyodor let out a sigh of relief as he wound his own arms around her to return the embrace. "Come! come! Arina has been waiting for you," She told him as she took a hold of his hand and began dragging him towards the dining room while he did his best to kick his shoes off as he moved and somehow managed to fling his coat up on its hook as they passed by it.