excu

Avuncle Marcello, has Arturia been here recently?

Seniora, the test results have all come back. Your nerves are a bit overstimulated right now, but otherwise, there's nothing particularly wrong with your body.

But you're still not willing to talk?

Those two... Err, no, that one young executor came by again.

He keeps asking to see you, but he's... a bit too blunt. The doctor is worried that his brusque manner will disrupt your mental state again, just when we've finally gotten your mood to stabilize.

Uhh, what's this... a slip of paper? He slipped a note under the door with a name written on it.

'Arturia.' What's that supposed to mean?

...*gasp*!

Wh-Why are you so agitated all of a sudden?! Should I call the doctor?

No... I'd like to meet with him.

Hello.

...I can't feel you.

If you mean that your empathy did not alert you to my presence, then that is not due to any empathetic imbalance on your part, but rather a problem with me.

Did you cut yourself off from our collective empathy, or do you suffer from some deficiency?

The professionals lean towards it being physiological.

Poor child.

You'll never know... what you are lacking.

I appreciate your concern, but I've come to the conclusion that I am perfectly capable of performing my duties.

Moving on, I'd like to ask you a direct question – have you met with Arturia Giallo recently?

...I have.

I saw her. No, more than that... I heard her. I heard her performing.

I can infer that she was performing at the church where you worked. Everyone who attended service that day heard her play.

I was conducting a sermon that day.

Did you know Arturia beforehand?

...No. That was my first time meeting her.

She sat in the corner of the front row, listened to the entire sermon, then asked me a question.

Please state the question in question.

She asked me...

You just asked us to close our eyes and feel the emotions of our fellow countrymen sitting beside us.

So I did.

I felt... bathed in peace and joy, just like every moment I spend in Laterano City.

But Seniora, I can't help but wonder, what of that day five years ago?

When those refugees, displaced by war, came to our doorsteps after crossing the wilderness, only to be ignored by you. Did you feel the pain in their hearts?

What... are you talking about?

It seems that your memories have faded with time. Allow me to help you recall.

Among them were children and the elderly. Feline and Liberi. And also... several Sankta who'd been born elsewhere.

They journeyed here under the guidance of a kind-hearted individual, believing that someone in Laterano would help them.

But the hopes of those poor souls were shattered. It didn't take long for most of them to perish in the sands.

...And you wish to take revenge on me on their behalf, child?

Because of my fear of Oripathy, because of my inability to empathize with their suffering.... You've come here to expose me, to shame me?

No, Seniora. I have no right to retaliate against you.

And as long as your actions match the emotions deep in your heart... I won't even judge you.

But you are supposed to be a kind person. Please tell me – is the reason you refused to help those people because you've grown accustomed to our collective empathy, but are unable to truly feel the emotions of others?

And I pose the same question to every person sitting here.

Arturia stands up and walks into the crowd.

She pauses and stops in front of each and every Sankta, feeling their thoughts as if they were the most intimate friends.

You blew up a flowerbed this morning. Do you feel for the others living in the same neighborhood, who are now mourning the loss of a precious childhood memory?

And you, you were in a hurry to get home yesterday, and rushed to board the public transit. Do you feel for the elderly woman you pushed aside, who was herself anxious about not being able to get to the hospital in time?

I am the same.

It is not that we were born selfish, weak, or dishonest.

We simply hid beneath our Sankta halos, using our 'collective empathy' as both the premise and expression of mutual care, and deemed that to be enough.

But can we truly accept another person's emotions as our own?

Did you answer her question?

I had no way of answering.

She posed that question to everyone present.

And afterward, she asked us, 'would you like to feel even more?'

She walked to the center of the church, lifted her bow, and began to perform... our hymn.

It's not as if she took control of us. But we were all drawn to the sound of her cello.

I had heard the same hymn countless times before, but in that moment, it was as if I was hearing its melody for the very first time.

The whole city... blossomed to life in my mind.

You're crying tears of happiness.

That's right. Even now, I can still feel those effervescent emotions.

Some are crying, others are laughing; some are born, others pass away.

The doctors called my symptoms an 'empathy disorder.' They said that the memories I was seeing were deranged hallucinations, and wanted me to take tranquilizers.

But only I know... No, only those of us who heard that hymn know.

None of us had ever 'felt' each other before. Or 'felt' Laterano, or 'felt' the advent, continuation, and cessation of life as we did in that moment.

Under the torrent of such powerful emotions, I no longer feel shame or regret towards what I did in the past.

I know clearly that their pain will become my pain, and I will carry those memories with me as my own, until I face my next decision.

Thank you for your cooperation. I will report your testimony to the Notarial Hall.

Where are you, Federico?

Roberto, as you are my partner, I have an obligation to inform you of my intentions.

I am ordering the arrest of Arturia, the suspect in the 'empathetic expansion' case. She is most likely in the cemetery right ahead of me.

I have already sent you the coordinates. Please be prepared to cooperate.

G-Giallo? Isn't she your...

Distant relative. But that has no bearing on my decision-making.

You're here alone again, Soror.

Avuncle has also locked himself inside. The two of you haven't spoke in a long time.

Why not tell him that you're suffering?

There's no point.

Fede, my father's love for my mother blinded him to her true emotions. He wanted nothing but to keep her by his side, but she didn't want to be chained down by him.

I only wanted to help him realize this, but he pushed me away.

He would rather hate me than admit that it was Mamma's idea to leave him.

Regardless, you shouldn't have caused such a commotion at the funeral.

People are hurt by your music. I agree with Avuncle's judgment that you were in the wrong.

Are you also afraid of me, Fede? Just like father, and everyone else at that funeral?

...I'm not afraid of you.

But...

The Sankta girl stands silently before a tombstone.

She continues playing her cello, each note filled with emotions that Federico cannot feel.

All he can do is sit on the grass not far away, scrawling away and thinking, occasionally lifting his head to look at the tightly-shut windows, the vibrating strings, and the silent tombstones.

He can even discern that the sound of the cello reverberating in the wind is becoming more and more frantic.

I will stop you.

I will not allow you to continue your self-centered performance—

—Arturia.

It's been a while, Fede.

Are you also here to pay a visit to Mamma?

You know why I'm here.

You're still exactly the same as when you were little. Always so straightforward... always so good at spoiling the mood.

Three days ago, in a church in Pagus Stevonus, you used Originium Arts on thirty-one Sanktas, causing them to suffer from an empathy disorder in serious violation of our laws.

As an executor of the Notarial Hall, I declare you under arrest.