Authoress' Notes: And I wrote this… because I was playing SH3 and I missed Yuri. XD And I missed YurixAlice. Because, er, that's life. Johnny, you're hot and all, but Yuri's just… Yuri. And I realized I've never written anything Shadow Hearts before when I've been in the fandom of it ever since they released SH1. Which makes me reallyreallyreally old. Or so I like to believe. XD Anyway, I apologize in advance for the crappiness and the wrong grammar (and tensing, oh the tensing) it might hold because I am too lazy to proofread it right now and I am not rich enough to have an editor. Whoo. Still, enjoy.

Disclaimer: It wouldn't be called a disclaimer if it claimed.

Spoiler warnings on SH1 and SH2.

---

Sundays
by psychedelic aya

It's a Sunday.

But before 1914, Yuri didn't give a damn what day or time it was. There was no such thing as exact time in his little world—after all, he had no calendar nor did he keep any watch. Time for him was just evening or morning or tomorrow or today.

He didn't even bother asking the locals what day it was. Besides, he was just in town because he needed a job (a stupid job, gah, can't live without 'em)—no matter how dirty or how low or how illegal. He needed some coins in his pockets and he needed them now.

I'm hungry.

He tries to think of the number of days since he last ate a decent meal.

But he doesn't count the days. (Or rather, since his knowledge of the current time frame is lacking—he can't count the days.) Instead, he counts the sunrises; and finds out that he's passed two.

(So two days ago was…)

The church bell is a rare sound in non-Christian China, but Yuri hears it as it rings.

(Two days ago was Friday.)

The church bell only rings on a Sunday. This is his basis of time, sometimes; so he knows what day is it today and he'll probably know what day is it tomorrow but he's pretty sure somewhere along the week he'll lose track of it again.

(But then the bell will strike again during a Sunday—always on a Sunday because God said it was the Sabbath and the people believed so. And so, once again, the knowledge of time will come to Yuri and he'll know.)

Then the cycle repeats.

Sunday means Church. Church means gatherings. Gatherings mean people. People mean jobs. Jobs mean money. Money means food.

Ah.

Sunday was a good day, Yuri decided.

(It kept his stomach full and his pockets jingling.)

Sunday kept that lopsided smile fixed on his face.

---

It's a Sunday.

And sometime in the year 1914, Yuri finds himself far from the place he grew up in. Gone are the pastures and the people with yellow skin and beady little eyes, along with their oriental smells and sharp tongues of the east. Instead, there are buildings and smoke and people who are tall and white and elegant, with fragrant perfumes and slang tongues of the west.

Whoa.

Yuri finds the change in surroundings uncomfortable at first, but as time passes by, he finds out he can fit in. (After all, he looks just like them—white and pale and tall—) The resemblance is uncanny and funny at the same time, and sometimes he wants to laugh about it. For once, see, he doesn't stand out.

(Red hair is common in this region too.)

Also, the Masks seem to like it. Must be because no one in Europe cares much about magic and the unknown these days—unlike those old people in China. (Damn old people, trying to suck out the Malice out of the insolent boy!—it's what they always said, and they always gave Yuri a headache.) Ah, but here, no one can sense their Malice and it sort of makes them comforted.

Yuri is comforted, too, but it isn't because the Masks feel the same way. To hell with the Masks and what they think, really!

It's because now he doesn't feel so apart in terms of race.

It's been a week since he arrived in this city and the people don't care because he fits in just like anyone else in the crowd. (Unlike in China where he'd get strange looks from the elders at first—and sometimes they'd even say he looked like a demon because of his eyes and his height—)

"Scrawny old Chinese geezers…"

An imaginary voice in his head always just told him they acted this way because they were jealous. Hah!

Of course, the real voice in his head told him it was because he was special.

Hmph.

(But coming to think of it—that voice in his head stopped talking since they got here—)

And yes, he knows it's been a week—surprisingly—because the church bell has just rung from the town square and he hears it resonate in his ears. The church bell indicates a Sunday and Alice did say they arrived on a Monday so it must've been seven days already.

Speaking of Alice—she's that pretty Caucasian girl in blue garments that stepped up to him a few moments ago from out of the crowd (and of course Yuri notices immediately because to him she glows and she stands out); well, she hears the church bell too and of course she wants to go. She's not a Sister of the order of whatever from wherever for nothing.

"C'mon, Yuri!"

Yuri really doesn't care, actually, what Alice is. He never goes to church, and he's not doing it just because his companion is—or was—a would-be nun. (No matter if she's pretty, or sexy, or nice, or near-perfect…)

No. Of course Yuri wasn't doing it because of all that—

"Alright, alright. Don't tug too hard, geez."

He's doing it because she's Alice and he's Yuri and her hand is in his and she's pulling him along to worship her God because she loves her God and she says her God loves them all.

Yuri believes, but not really.

He thinks it's more of "Alice drags Yuri to Church because she loves God and she loves Yuri."

Heh.

"Yuri!"

"I was just kidding!"

And Alice is smiling now. Yuri has already seen her smile so many other times during other days, but it was never quite as a smile like this one was. (Never quite as bright, quite as cheerful, quite as alive—)

It's a known fact that Yuri didn't really believe in God.

But he was slowly beginning to see why God rested to view his beautiful creations on a Sunday.

---

It's a Sunday.

It's also 1915 and there's a war. They call it the First Great War and Yuri hears how many deaths and casualties there are over the radio.

"Hmph. Stupid bastards, they don't know when to quit fighting, do they?"

He thinks Alice wouldn't have liked it if she heard about all the sufferings happening all over the planet. He thinks Alice would've wanted to do something about it. He thinks Alice would've cared about the oppressed. He thinks Alice would've prayed to God, or something.

He thinks Alice—

Well, all Yuri thinks about these days involve the name Alice, so Yuri doesn't really know what Alice thinks—or would've thought—anymore because somehow her name got mixed up in his own thoughts and every fiber of the sentences that form in his head has her name.

So maybe what he thinks Alice would think wasn't what Alice would think at all. Maybe it's actually what he thinks and he's just too absorbed in Alice that he confuses her would-be words with his and they get shuffled up. And his heart and his head hurts and he wants to stop mixing and confusing and shuffling things up but he's afraid that he cant, and that it just happens without him meaning to.

Yuri's at that point where he really, really, really just doesn't know what to do anymore.

"You even say her name when you're asleep," Gepetto says, and although he is smiling somehow his eyes are not. They are remorseful and Yuri feels comforted because he doesn't want someone to be feeling happy when all he can do is to drag them down. They're better off when they're sad to begin with.

"Oh shut up," the Harmonixer replies and pretends to be bitter, grabbing the puppeteer's canteen of wine and taking a swig. "It's not my fault I miss her."

"Hm. You think that with your state of depression, you'd just have killed yourself a long time ago."

Yuri chokes on the alcohol and gives Gepetto a disgusted look. "No way. And waste the life she gave me? Alice wouldn't want that."

Gepetto gives him a stare. "Yes, but I'm sure she wouldn't want you drinking your bum ass off here, either." He pinches his nose then, "You reek of wine."

Yuri closes his eyes and slurs, "Well, it's your fault for always bringing me some."

The master puppeteer tries not to roll his eyes. As his mouth opens to speak again, the church bell rings and a little noise of the bustling of the crowd is heard from inside Domremy.

"C'mon, Yuri," He urges, "Let's go to mass."

The Fusionist is already lying on the grass. He puts his hands behind his head and feigns haughtiness, "Don't wanna."

"Yuri…"

"I haven't gone to mass…" He trails off and thinks of the words to say, but finds that none are appropriate to shadow his sorrow. "…ever since." He says instead, for the lack of a better explanation.

Gepetto sort of understands, and because he does, he sighs. "Yuri." The Russian name is smooth against his old tongue and he finds it easy to sound stern. When he knows that the boy is listening, he warns, "Alice wouldn't like that."

There is a quick reply—"Hmph. What do you know of what she would like?" Yuri's tone is not angry, just sarcastic.

The older man knows exactly what to answer.

"Because I love her."

Yuri's eyes snap open at this (they had been closed for he was 'relaxing' and rather drunk) and Gepetto feels smug as he watches the emotions play in his friend's face. He knows he has hit a spot, so he continues,

"I know you do too. So don't you think she would've wanted you to continue going to mass even though she's away?"

Yuri sighs, and looks as if he were about to retort but then decided against it. Instead, he begins to stand, "You make it sound as if she were just away on a trip." His tone is wistful. "As if she were somehow coming back."

"She might, Yuri, she might."

The Harmonixer gives him a look, "You're talking bull."

The puppeteer smiles. "Ah, but nothing is impossible with God, remember?"

Surprisingly, for the next few weeks, Yuri doesn't miss Sunday mass.

---

It's a Sunday.

It's still 1915 and the war hasn't ended. Yuri is somewhere in a remote forest in Japan and the absence of the ringing of the church bell somehow unnerves him.

"Yuri," Karin calls, and her voice almost reminds him of a mixture of Alice's gentle tones with his mother's soothing ones—and the more he gets guilty. "Yuri," she says again, "What's wrong?"

His reply is simple. "I need to go to mass."

It is evident that there is shock in the red-head's expression. "Mass?" And she giggles. "Wow. I didn't know you were such a devout Christian!"

"So?" He replies, but wonders about the soft red tinge on his cheeks. Yuri didn't think being devout was something to ashamed of—Alice would say (this time he was sure) that he should be proud. And he was proud, no doubt.

He didn't wear her God's cross in his clothing for nothing.

But the way Karin looked at him made him uneasy—wasn't she a devout Christian too? And yet why was she laughing?

"I'm not that devout," He says instead, in a much softer tone, and his gaze suddenly goes elsewhere. "But Alice was."

Immediately Yuri knew that he said the wrong thing because Karin suddenly stopped laughing.

"Uh, Karin?"

Her reaction disturbed him as much as the absence of the church bells did: she just smiled and walked away.

Yuri was getting even more flustered now. It felt like a sin not to go to mass, (of course, technically it is—but Yuri doesn't know that) and now he felt like he offended Karin.

Gah. Whatever was he to do?

Pray.

Yuri wondered whether he was hearing voices again, but this voice was so close to Alice's that he was sure it meant no harm.

Pray.

Pray?

He put his hands together and entwined his fingers with one another.

Make the sign of the cross, right?

He felt like a little child on their first trip to the temple of God.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit…

See, Yuri didn't believe in praying. He always thought that being able to communicate with God was a load of crap and bull, and that no one was listening to anything you prayed for anyway, so why waste your time praying to the Almighty when you can waste your time doing what you want to do instead?

Yuri didn't believe in praying. He didn't get the concept of it.

But Alice did, and Yuri knew that Alice did.

Maybe… maybe he should make up missing mass by praying?

Alice would probably like that…

So pray he did.

(And he really didn't know what to do, for it was his first time praying, so he just ended up mumbling all sorts of things to the Father. Like about Alice. And Roger Bacon. And his mom, and Karin, and Kato and everyone else involved in the scheme of things.

He said sorry, too, about not being able to go to mass and about killing monsters and people and about sinning and all that jazz. He also said thank you, and maybe a little pleads of help were inserted here and there.

There was also a whole context of his prayer about Alice.

Yes, Yuri prayed mostly about Alice.)

He really didn't know if anyone was listening.

But somehow he knew Alice was.

And since it is a Sunday, after all, she must be smiling—

So Yuri prayed some more.

Amen.

---

It's a Sunday.

It's 1914 again and the war hasn't begun yet but Yuri is sure it will start soon.

At the moment, though, he really couldn't care.

Someone is holding his hand and pulling him through the crowd, and although they look a tad bit strange they fit in quite well. The air is warm and the person pulling him seems to be glowing—her white-blond hair reflects against the sun and her smile shines through the crowd.

She is special, the voice inside Yuri's head says.

Yuri smirks. "I already know that."

And she is bringing him to the church. The bells are ringing and they are quite louder than he remembers but they sound so comforting that Yuri ignores how they throb through his ear. (Not 'throb', actually, but rather 'resonate'—)

"Yuri," And her voice is the prettiest amongst the melancholy rings of the church bells, and he remembers it forever and always and is mighty glad he's hearing it again from her in the flesh rather than from some imitation in his dreams. "Is this your first mass?"

He'd like to say 'yes'—because technically it was true but then he's aware what day and time it is and so he knows it's a 'no'.

(He's even wearing a watch this time around.)

Yet still, "Yes," he says, and he's not lying because it's true in its own way. "This is my first time going to mass, and it's with you."

—Again.

But he leaves that part out.

Alice smiles and squeezes his hand.

"I'm glad."

They walk to the church hand-in-hand.

---

It's a Sunday and it's the year 1914 and the war hasn't begun but it will. And it's a Sunday and the church hasn't started but it will, and Yuri doesn't know how to pray but he still will. And it's a Sunday and somewhere in another city Karin is training for the military and Gepetto is polishing Cornelia and Kato's running some errands with Kawashima and Roger Bacon is making something really weird invention for the betterment of mankind (or so he likes to believe).

It's a Sunday and Alice is smiling her immaculate smile and Yuri is smiling his lopsided one.

It's a Sunday and they're both happy.

It's a Sunday.

Yuri thinks everything's just quite right.

Amen.

.//FINI – 032606

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Authoress' Notes: Man, that sucked. In the end, I just wanted to get it over with. Very bad of me. Oh the shameshameshame.

The overmention of prayer and church and bells—well, er, I'm Christian and I just came from church. It's an influence, I tell you. And besides, they were devout Christians, mind you. And yes, it's Sunday. Whoo. Oh the puns.

Shoot me now, if you will.

(Smile. Jesus loves you, dears.)

Running away in madness seems like a very good option now, don't you think?