Sic Itur ad Astra
Uno: Sanctus Deus
Standard disclaimers apply.
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Santo Dios
Santo Fuerte
Santo Inmortal
Libranos Señor de la Peste
Y de todo mal
The priest gave his blessings to the devoted Christians whom he always prayed for. The people showed their ardent love for God—this he knew. He saw familiar faces all the time every Sunday, with their eyes closed in silent, concentrated contemplation. With their eyes focused on—not him—but on the words he spoke. He was proud that he came to know such people. Rarely do they exist.
Of course, in this quiet, little town, this small church is actually big enough to fill the small number of people who actively participated in the Holy Eucharist. As he came to witness, there are only a few families completely dedicated to attend the masses without fail, and fortunately for him, the number seemed almost exact to occupy the small space the chapel held, all in its tiny glory.
And there has been enough to start their own small choir.
Ave Maria
Gratia Plena
Dominus tecum, benedicta tu
Benedictus fructus tui eribus
Et benedictus fructus—
The door opened quite soundly and the choir suddenly stopped at the impact it brought.
The priest noticed. Another family came in—and he recognized them. The over bearing aura all surrounded them—the entire clan—and they made their way into some of the empty seats that he found, the other people avoided.
Father Marquez immediately resumed the mass despite having to halt during their entrance. It seemed that it was the first that they came late for today's celebration, but the priest saw someone he assumed, was the cause of their unexpected tardiness.
---
His father was angry at him, and he was angry right back. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. He was about to head out to… somewhere he rather would not talk about when his father—and mother—persuaded him to attend mass this day.
He can still remember the heated conversation that transpired between the father and son. You've never asked me or forced me to go with you, why would you start caring now? It had been a wrong question, apparently, and he was surprised that his father detained the hand that he knew was just itching to hurt. You need to attend mass, honey. His mother had told him. You're a Christian, just like us, and you should be aware of your duties to the Almighty one. His mother was right—he was a Christian but he never practiced the faith anyway. It was only a name, for him.
His did not yield to his mother and finally, his father gave him the ultimatum. Come with us or I'll see to it that you never set foot out of this house again. That had been it. He liked being outside—if only to stay away form his father and his perfect, perfect brother who only watched the whole scene with amused eyes.
And he did go. He threw on his casual clothes, a red shirt and jeans and donned on his left ear only, a single dangling cross earring. Right, he is a Christian and he should be proud of it.
And he achieved his true purpose for wearing the clothes he doesn't usually don. His father went silent, a sign that he was fuming, and almost… almost banged the door open when they reached the chapel. He never knew about the place, only heard of it. After all, this is the first time he came here since…. Well, since.
They came and sat to a pew where he knew it was treated as private property. No one sat there so it was easy to assure. He sighed silently, exasperated. When the time came for them to take their seats, he all at once sat, the wooden pew sliding a bit backwards.
This earned him another glare from his father. And he struggled not to roll his eyes. He was an Uchiha. And he knew that an Uchiha should never ever do that.
Instead, his eyes studied the whole of the interior, silently berating anything that did not please him. Either the walls were too white or there were too many people or something he could come up. He was whining, he knew, and that was another big no for being an Uchiha, but a person could not help but do that—he really wished to be out of there.
Scanning the surroundings so, his gaze finally landed on something too bright, that his eyes hurt. He wanted to turn away, to close his eyes and shut the brightness out. It was uncomfortable, to be compelled to light all of a sudden, but he couldn't help it. It was just too bright to ignore.
Too bright.
---
This, my child, will be the only gift you will ever give to the Almighty for all the blessings that he gave us. Devote yourself to him. We owe him so many things that even I can't begin to start where. This is your thanks. This is your love. This will be your only sacrifice. Do you hear me? Do you understand what I'm trying to convey to you?
He remembered all too clearly the words that were repeated to him as if they were spoken just yesterday. He did have so many things to be thankful for and he had no idea of how to repay the Almighty for the kindness he showed him.
He was lost in so many self-inflicted sufferings that he did not know where to go that time. It was a hard time for him, being alone in the streets with nothing to eat, or shelter to come home to.
Alas, he was found by this compassionate being, and he was brought back from the lost world of the unknown. He was sheltered, kept from harm's ways and was warmed. It was truly a joy to experience other people love him like they were their own.
Naruto entered the seminary not because he wanted to become a priest. He entered because he had nowhere else to turn to and this was the only place that would not turn him away.
He was readily accepted and he tried to repay their own kindness by giving some of his own. He worked dutifully, always polite, always aware other's needs. I don't think that doing all of this will show how much I am grateful to you all. He told them and they said that he had heard his calling.
This, my child, will be the only gift you will ever give to the Almighty for all the blessings that he gave you. Devote yourself to him. You owe him so many things that even the whole world's riches can't suffice. This is your thanks. This is your love. This will be your only sacrifice. Do you hear me? Do you understand what I'm trying to convey to you?
He had nodded his head then. Yes, Father. He replied those words with conviction and faith. Father Marquez smiled and he smiled back. I am not forcing you to become a priest. There are other ways to express your gratitude to Him even without having to enter the house. Are you sure about this?
He, again, nodded. I don't think those other ways will be enough to show my love and gratitude to him. Nothing, except this. He was sure of that, years ago, that he will continue on his dream—to give back all the love to Him.
Since then, he did not step out of the gates unless he was told to, and he never was. He spent all his childhood years building on knowledge about his Creator and all the miracles he did. The son He sacrificed, the pain He endured.
He sang with all his heart, hoping to escalate his feelings to the God he loved more than anything.
Abruptly, the doors opened. And inside came in a family he never learned to trust much. He noticed that the entire choir stopped and he urged them to continue. They did, and soon, he found the family already seated to their usual area and Father Marquez resuming his words.
He felt eyes at him and he stared back. He was not aware this time. Why is that boy looking at me? Why is he lingering his gaze? Why isn't he moving away to look at other things? It did bother him, but he couldn't care otherwise.
So he sang, with a voice so pure and tender, and he heard the other devotees sing with him. It made him happy.
Although even through all his devotion, he can't stop to think about many other things.
Like going outside.
And he hated to admit it, even if he loved the feeling of the seminary when he was inside, he wondered…
What was life beyond the door?
---
"It was a very beautiful celebration, Father," said calm and collected young man with bright blue eyes and blond hair. "I felt that I am yet again touched by the hands of the loving God, himself,"
It was unnatural, that someone as young as he, someone that should have been roughing it out with other people his age, was speaking of words that didn't come out of people's mouths at all. Father Marquez knew that inside the calm and polite young man, was indeed another person, playful and fun, yet, at this moment, he couldn't see any trace of that boy—not that he ever saw it.
He knew it was there, somewhere. However, it became his nature to become like this. Speaking of deep, deep words of what he always knew was sincerity, because he grew up with people who spoke of God more often than the number of times they ate.
"You're a good kid, Naruto," said the priest and ruffled the hair of the adolescent familiarly, earning a serene smile from the blonde youth. "Why don't you go and eat? It's already a little over lunch time,"
Naruto gave the priest a 'no' for his response. "I still have to finish putting away the things in the altar, Father. I'll just catch up with you and eat later," with that, Naruto proceeded to walk away.
Father Marquez watched as he went a smile on his lips. He knew that the blonde kid wanted to be in the service of the Almighty, although he felt that he didn't belong there. Yet, no matter how much he hinted to the boy to try, at least, to have a taste of the outside, he always refused. Even though he can see that the blonde very much wanted to.
Why do you confine yourself to your vows and pride?
---
Naruto placed the chalice back to its rightful place and locked it away. He picked up the folded cloth into his hands and placed it on top of the altar to cover it with the said object.
It was now autumn, the leaves that were colored to a light brown scattered all over their backyard. It was another turn of events; another time for him to watch the world change. He had been like this, only wanting to observe from afar. He couldn't bring the courage to taste for himself, the adventure he desired all too much—maybe he lacked the courage thereof. He blamed himself for being weak—for having a weakness that he haven't conquered yet.
He wasn't prepared to leave the comfort that home provided him with.
He sighed; surely he would…soon, but not now.
He felt a familiar presence behind him and saw Father Marquez. "I thought you went ahead without me, Father. Why the sudden change of heart?" his words were not from him—they were not him. They were from someone that struggled so hard to become perfect in the eyes of God.
He was curious as to why the priest would come back for him. Was he going to say something important? Or did he forget anything else? The blonde boy scanned around the whole of the chapel and was sure that nothing was left that belonged to the seminary.
"Naruto," started the priest slowly. "I've been meaning to tell you something,"
"What is it?"
The priest smiled at him and he relaxed. It couldn't be that bad, he thought.
"I want you to attend a normal school like anyone else, Naruto. You need to see for yourself and experience what any ordinary kid should experience.you don't need to lock yourself away,"
"But--"
The priest looked stern and at the same time, persuasive to a good part. "No. I want—we want you to realize that we are not holding you back to doing what you want. We do not have reign over your life. God gave that to you to care for. You are in charge of it,"
The blonde was quiet and the priest waited patiently for the reply. "As you'd like, Father," he finally abided and acknowledged.
"It's hard, I know, to feel like you're starting over again. But we are certain that you can take on whatever responsibilities you will have in the future. We trust you, so please, trust us,"
Naruto nodded once, and then scampered back into his room. The priest could only smile so much. They wanted this for Naruto—for a boy, exploited to the point that he felt he couldn't trust any more, for a boy they all came to love and care for dearly.
---
As they went home, he knew that he would be scolded once again by the man he called father.
And he was right, he always was. His father was too predictable.
Sasuke mastered this art. He mastered tuning the people he didn't like out of his ears and of his life. It was hard to, at first, since his father was so adept in catching his attention and bringing him back to the reality he almost came to hate. But he learned the art of it, and it was the only reason why he was able to tone down his anger.
He had always been an obedient child. All he did was to please both his parents and now he wondered where did he go wrong? All his efforts—there were all in vain. And it hurt.
But right now, it didn't. Because he was numb and couldn't feel anything. After all, all those times he was ignored, he could feel that he was invisible, and invisibility doesn't hurt anyone.
It was hard to live his life. At school, he had been—and probably still is—popular, but only because he possessed that untouchable attitude that seemed to get the attention of the crowd. He was never untouchable and he was never that high. He always craved for the love that was deprived of him.
It was unfair.
He knew he couldn't have everything.
When his thoughts came back to that time where he prayed. He saw someone that had the same look of longing as he had. We're the same. Both him and I. It was refreshing to see that it was not only him that felt like this, that someone shared through the pain.
But he didn't bother. The knowledge itself was enough to reassure him that he isn't alone. Never was. And maybe, that's the reason he was even mildly interested.
He was going to school tomorrow, and with some dark hope forming in his heart and mind, he fell asleep. He did not hassle himself to pray. He, in no way, did anyway.
---
Kneeling across the crucifix, azure eyes were closed to the world around him, surrounding himself in the darkness and comforting himself at the peace it brought. He brought upon his lips, a red crucifix that he always kept with him, and kissed it tenderly.
My Savior, it has yet come to my notice that I will be spending another time away from you. Forgive me if ever I may ignore you and forget to thank you for the things you did for me. The thorns that hurt you in the most unbearable way, may it stay in my memories and serve as a reminder of your undying and selfless love.
Tomorrow, I will begin another day of unexpected affairs. Guide everyone I care for that they may stay safe and that the whole world be cleansed of their sin.
He did the sign of the cross, kissed the crucifix once again, and continued on his remaining tasks. He brushed his teeth and then climbed up his bed.
Tomorrow was going to be an eventful day.
-Continued-
Author's notes: I'm sorry but I plan to have Anonymity take the backseat for now. Kremlin Dusk I promise, is underway. I'm having troubles thinking of new chapters for it.
Sanctus Deus means Holy God
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