It had been a while since I last came to the school.
A little before the front gate, I had everyone get out of the car while I alone spoke to the guard from the driver’s seat.
It was the same guard from my student days—he must be nearing retirement.
He recognized me and smiled, asking how I was doing.
“I’m here to investigate whether something at the school might be causing my brother’s headaches,” I told him. “It’ll be a scene if students are around, so could I take a look now?” I admitted I was acting on my own.
I said I was worried about my brother, that I couldn’t just sit and wait.
I added, nearly in tears, “The Health Department has too many cases to prioritize his. I just want to find something—anything—that might help him myself.”
While the kind-hearted guard’s eyes welled up with sympathy and he opened the gate, the other four slipped into the school grounds using the car as cover.
When he said, “I’ll pray for your brother’s recovery,” I accepted it with a pang of guilt and pulled into the visitor’s lot.
Once through the gate, everything was surprisingly open—typical of a faith-based institution.
“We’ll meet up in the Cathedral,”
we’d agreed back in the car.
Mr. White, wearing a black hoodie borrowed from the café owner, gave a tense nod.
It might have been his first time in a cathedralof the Faith in Darkness.
He had said earlier in the car that after spending a few days at the café, he started missing plants.
Seeing how down he looked, the café owner apparently wrapped him in their long black coat and took him to the botanical garden.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
I get it. I’ve seen it too—Mr. White’s sad expression stirs a kind of protectiveness, like a baby animal would.
The café owner probably felt the same.
Tsurubami, Akisumi’s friend, is another one—someone whose features are so pale, they could almost pass as one of the underground people.
If you wear black clothes like it’s natural and carry yourself with confidence, you probably wouldn’t stand out… but he must’ve looked suspicious.
Did he cover his eyes properly, though?
His eyes—they’re the most beautiful green I’ve ever seen.
Even if his pale skin could be written off as “unusual,” those eyes? No way.
When I leaned in close at the botanical garden, I felt like I was becoming part of a plant leaf myself.
So those are the eyes of someone from underground...
Just a few hours ago, I would've scoffed at the idea of an underground city. But it’s not a fantasy.
—What should I do?
I’m getting excited.
Akisumi probably feels the same.
So does that weird café owner.
??
Beyond the parking lot stood a massive triangular structure against the night sky.
That was the Cathedral of the Faith in Darkness.
Even knowing it was just the lighting, the silvery cosmic exterior gave the illusion that the building itself was glowing.
A sacred place where we pray to the Darkness,
the one who protects us from all evil.
Of all the religious buildings in town, the one at the school is the oldest.
I walked up the sloped path and arrived at the entrance.
I knelt on one knee and offered a brief prayer to the Darkness.
The heavy wooden door looked out of place against the metallic walls, yet somehow, it fit perfectly.
It creaked once as I pushed it open—a familiar sound.
At the entrance, I climbed five white stone steps and found myself in a vast sanctuary.
Simple wooden benches stretched out to either side, enough to seat at least a thousand.
Maybe two thousand, if you included the open space surrounding them.
Each step I took echoed through the vast space, as if the building itself allowed no secrets.
From the back of the sanctuary, I gazed toward the distant altar.
Beyond it was a towering twenty-meter-tall window, cut in the shape of a cross and stretching to the ceiling.
White moonlight poured through it, casting a pale glow on me.
“Kiyosumi-san.”
A voice called my name. I jumped and turned around.
Mr. White stood there, silent and still.
—Was he alone?
Why didn’t I hear any footsteps?
