Why must sin taste so bitterly sweet (fyozai)

Chapter 9

Word count:2473

Fyodor returned to the basement the next day to find Osamu not sitting waiting for him in its usual place, instead it was curled up over in the corner where he had first found it, facing the wall just as it had been the first time he had met those beautifully dull chestnut eyes. "Osamu? Whatever are you doing over there?" He called with a tad of amusement from the doorway as he slotted the key into the rusted keyhole. He dropped the bread, this time garnished with just a little butter he'd managed to swipe, and the tankard of water over on the windowsill, quickly dashing upstairs to empty out the bucket before moving to undo Osamu's restraints, allowing the chains to fall to the damp ground with a relatively soft clinking sound.

"Bathing Ceremony," came Osamu's voice.

It never ceased to send shivers down Fyodor's spine every time Osamu spoke to him, its voice remaining calm and smooth ever since the first time it had spoken to him, no matter the situation. It was a symphony of pure euphoria to his ears. As if he were listening to the soft, holy voice of an angel whispering gently into his ear.

"Ah, I assume the dilute acid wasn't all that pleasant." He chuckled as he sat himself down beside it, Osamu sent him a glare which only made the situation seem even funnier to him as he continued to chuckle away. Silence grew between them as Osamu got to work on eating its bread, tossing Fyodor a grateful look, as if felt the salty taste of butter against its tongue. Fyodor filled the time pulling at any loose threads he could find on his gloves, twisting them around before snapping them from the main parts of the fabric and discarding them on the damp floor below.

"Fyodor." Osamu broke the comfortable silence,

"Hm?" Fyodor hummed in response.

"Can I ask, just what is it that makes you and I so different? As in, why am I sitting down here in this rotten old cell while you're living above the ground among others?" Osamu asked with a furrowed brow.

"My dear Osamu. Have you learnt nothing in your time here with us? You are a creature of sin, an abomination beyond repair by the hands of mere mortal human beings such as myself. You are sitting here in this cell as we are preparing you to be taken to our lord, for him to help you and fix you in ways that we cannot. Do you not understand that?" Fyodor recited, the entire spiel flowing out as if it were second nature to him.

"But how are you so sure that I am a so-called 'creature of sin'? Could your people not have made some sort of mistake in bringing me here?" Osamu challenged.

"I do wonder that myself sometimes." Fyodor muttered thoughtfully

"If I am a 'creature of sin' and you are apparently not, then why is it that you are so entertained by me? If you constantly engage with me, if you are as unbelievably fascinated by me as you are, how is it that you are not a creature of at least a similar nature to me? Is what you are doing right now not considered horribly wrong and disgraceful by your people?"

Silence ensued.

Fyodor didn't say a word as he reached for the restraints without once meeting the sinner's eyes, snapping the cuffs back around its wrists and fitting the muzzle around its face.

His gloved hand went out to tilt the sinner's head to look up at him. "You truly are fascinating, you know, Osamu." He let the sinner's face fall from his grasp as he got up to leave the cell.

"Perhaps I am just as much a sinner as you are," He muttered as he left with a sullen expression on his face.

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