Originally, it seems the Romanian police authorities didn't hold the manhole dwellers in high regard.

That was understandable. Living in a manhole was such an abnormal thing that even reporters from across the sea came to cover it. The residents inside were clearly deranged from gasoline and drugs, and their idea of a meal was theft and fraud. Everyone in the local community knew the manhole dwellers lived by doing bad things. In fact, they were hated by locals, and dogs had been thrown into the manholes on multiple occasions.

Even Lydia and I had committed fraud and theft many times before. We'd even done a getaway without paying. Though we wouldn't sell our bodies out of self-pity, we still stole from tourists, so we'd always expected something like this would eventually happen.

Maybe I've been careless lately, since I've been making money through performances.

　

But we're not here because we have a choice—we're just living here because there's nowhere else for us.

Otherwise, we'd either be locked up in the facility and tormented to death, or face some other fate. We had no options.

　

But no excuses like that will hold up.

Niku was arrested.

A special unit suddenly burst into the manhole, armed with automatic rifles. The boys seemed to resist, but they were beaten and all dragged out.

I was terrified.

Being caught by the police meant being sent to a reform facility.

It might mean being separated from Lydia.

Everyone, including me and Lydia, was locked up in cells.

It was the season when the linden (Tei) flowers bloomed wildly in the final week of May.

Even though the weekend brought Pentecost (Lusari) again, I never expected to be arrested.

I spent a restless night.

The adults' fates were decided quickly, but as for us children—several of us, including myself—our destinations were not settled for a long time.

My presence and Lydia's seemed to surprise them greatly.

—How did you end up here?

They asked me this over and over. Though there were many reasons, tracing them back ultimately led to the same answer: "We were abandoned by our parents."

Since only Lydia and I were girls, we were placed in a slightly smaller cell together, but we weren’t released.

After spending several days in the cell, we ended up celebrating Pentecost (Lusari) there, inside the prison.

It was nice that the meal was a bit more luxurious, but thinking about the future makes me depressed.

Maybe I'll be separated from Lydia, maybe sent to a correctional facility. Or worse, sent back to an orphanage and bullied again—no way am I going through that again.

And the next morning.

Even after Lydia and I wake up, no one comes.

We're so late for mealtime that it's almost embarrassing.

Pentecost is a holiday celebrated fifty days after Easter, commemorating the day the Holy Spirit descended upon the apostles. Pentecost always falls on a Sunday, and the following day is also a holiday, so maybe everyone is still asleep.

"Hey, Nadia. What's that?"

My younger sister (Lydia), who just woke up beside me, points at my hand.

"What...? Wait, what is this?!"

It was on the palm of my hand. A creepy pattern appeared, constantly shifting its shape.

Even rubbing it with clothes wouldn't remove it, and I couldn't make sense of it.

"Does Lydia have it too?"

"I don't, but... what could it be?"

"Maybe something happened to me while I was asleep..."

It looked like it was moving, unlike a printed image, and gave me a sickening feeling, as if some other living thing was writhing on the surface of my palm.

After a while, an elderly female employee came over, looking pale, and when I asked her about the mark on my hand, she turned even paler and shouted.

"0 (Oh), Doamne (God!)"

The female employee, startled, stepped closer to us.

Her eyes widened as she stared intently at my hand, then she tilted her head slightly and whispered to herself.

"Sfânta (Holy Lady)..."

A virgin saint? A virgin saint refers to someone like the Virgin Mary—here in this country, various saints and virgin saints are revered. Even this room has an icon of Saint Nicholas, so it's something quite familiar. But I've never actually seen a real saint.

It's only that, sometimes, people are declared saints long after they've died—living saints are extremely rare.

Of course, I can't possibly be a virgin saint.

What's going on here?

"What is this pattern? What exactly is this?"

"O-oh, you haven't seen it yet... Last night, the Holy Spirit truly appeared—"

"Huh?"

The woman claims that the Holy Spirit actually appeared around three in the morning.

That thousands from around the world have been chosen as 'Apostles' to fulfill their mission in another world, or something along those lines.

I don't understand this conversation. Wasn't the Holy Spirit just a fairy tale?

I don't believe there's a god in this world. I've never felt God's presence.

"The Holy Spirit couldn't possibly exist. Are you serious?"

"No, you're just saying that because you haven't seen it. Besides... the Orthodox Church has acknowledged that the light which descended yesterday was the Holy Spirit. Ah... I can't stay like this—I must report this to the priest..."

From that moment on, everything changed.

Both Lydia and I were taken out of the prison and brought to the church.

After a moderate explanation from the priest, we were driven further to an even larger church.

Just a few days ago, I was living in a manhole as an orphan, and now I was dressed in a beautiful white dress, being celebrated as a saint, a disciple, and all that.

Only three Romanian apostles were chosen, and because of that, I was welcomed everywhere—on television, at dinners with important people, parties, church events, and so on.

Not just me, but Lydia too was included. We were hailed as miraculous sisters, the darlings of the age.

Videos of the two of us singing and dancing were viewed over a million times.

A dozen or so women even claimed to be our mother, but we ignored them since I couldn’t even remember their faces.

...Well, there was one with black hair, who seemed more likely to be our real mother, but in the end, I was destined to go to another world, and Lydia seemed set to find the best possible adoptive parents.

We have no biological parents. That’s fine.

This kind of life lasted about two months, and once things had settled down a bit, Lydia said.

"We're different people, aren't we?"

"Eh...? Why?"

"I always felt like I and Nadia were the same. We're always together, feel the same way, think the same thoughts, live the same lives. But only Nadia had the mark appear, right? It's like the gods are saying we're different."

Hearing that, I was quite shocked.

I still felt that Lydia and I were the same person.

Not because we're twins—though that's not what I meant—but because we'd shared too much hardship together. We'd shared pain, sorrow, crises, joy—too much of everything.

What I feel, Lydia feels too.

What I think, Lydia thinks as well.

There had rarely been any discrepancy between us.

"If Nadia goes to another world, the twin connection will be broken!"

That was a definitive farewell.

The depths of Lydia's heart, hidden beneath her faint smile, were impossible to see.

Back before, I would have understood everything she was thinking.

But now, I can't read anything from Lydia.

Not even the feelings or thoughts behind that smile.

◇◆◆◆◇

I've officially decided to live in the church.

Every single day, studying about God is nothing but pure agony.

I've watched a few videos of people claiming to be the "Holy Spirit," but it's hard to believe those are actually the Holy Spirit.

When I asked a priest I've grown close to, he said the Western Church doesn't recognize those people as God or the Holy Spirit—on the contrary, they're even labeled as demons.

That's why it's such a half-baked thing—worshiped as the Holy Spirit in the Eastern Church.

Hearing that, I lost all motivation to study further.

Thanks to my saintly privilege, I was allowed to study about God carelessly, prioritizing other studies.

Meanwhile, Lydia, she found foster parents, entered school, and lived being pampered quite a bit as the younger sister of the saint.

She even made friends I didn't know about, changed her hairstyle to something different from mine, and wore clothes I'd never seen before.

Twin dissolution.

Lydia's words press heavily, heavily upon my chest.

　

I'm being cast into a meaningless world like another world, vanishing from this one.

In this world, Lydia lives happily and joyfully as the twin sister of the saint.

What kind of apostle is that? What kind of saint is that?

I'm the only one suffering here.

Yet, there's nothing I can do now.

All I can think of is preparing so I won't die embarrassingly soon if I go over there.

　

As an older sister, what should I have done?

Should I have celebrated my younger sister's happiness?

Since I was chosen as an apostle, shouldn't I have forgotten all personal matters and focused solely on fulfilling my mission?

I don't know.

In fact, that very mission was artificially concocted later by the Orthodox Church, and that god never said a word.

There's no need to uphold something like that.

And so, days passed. I experienced Christmas in all its grandeur for the first time, even received gifts, but left most of them untouched in my room, until the day came when I was to travel to another world.

"Then, Lydia. Stay well."

"Yeah. Stay well too, Nadia. I'll be watching over you."

Despite this being our final farewell, it wasn't a place of sorrow.

We had already understood parting over the past half-year and had come to terms with our feelings.

Or perhaps it was because Lydia herself clearly said, "Dissolve the twins."

Either way, it was time to go.

I had finally managed to accept it myself.

I don't know what will happen to me from now on, but Lydia looks happy.

Isn't that enough?

It's fine.

That's how it is.

The Patriarch (Patriarch) hands me my luggage.

I wasn't given the choice of selecting just one thing to take with me. Well, I didn't really want to bring anything in particular, so it didn't matter either way.

The people gathered in the cathedral begin to sing a hymn.

I sing too. My final duty.

I fulfilled the role suddenly bestowed upon me—“Saint of the Romanian Orthodox Church.”

The story of how I became a saint after enduring hardship captured people's interest and made me perhaps the most famous girl in Romania.

Even living in a manhole was interpreted as a divine trial.

Ridiculous.

In the end, the church didn’t provide much food or sweets, and my current self differs considerably from Lydia in build.

Lydia, with her fuller figure, wearing different clothes and styled hair, clearly no longer resembles a twin.

The time is almost here.

—Ah, I really want a drink (tsuika).

◇◆◆◆◇

I was moved toward the "White Room," bathed in light and surrounded by the believers' cheers.

Alone.

Before me stood a desk and a chair. On the desk was a computer, nothing else.

"You have been selected as a transmigrant to another world. Complete your bonus point allocation and begin your journey."

The computer screen displayed these words in Romanian.

Points could be used to gain abilities.

I had 80 points. I wasn’t sure if that was a lot or a little.

After quickly scanning through everything, I first changed the transfer location to "relatively safe." It had initially been set to "random transfer"—was that the norm?

　

"Huh? Are there even 'disadvantageous elements' like this? This—"

There was an option labeled "Those to Protect," and upon reading the description, I gasped.

You can bring your beloved one to another world. Children under twelve, or animals, or your irreplaceable other half. The one you protect cannot enhance their points. Only the language of the other world comes standard. Bonus points are calculated based on the protectee's vulnerability and the transferor's affection.

Children under twelve. No, we're thirteen. Or was it fourteen? Either way, we're definitely not under eleven.

But—

"My irreplaceable other half...?"

A sense of unease.

That word alone had a different font, as if added later.

I clicked the button.

—You can bring Lydia Lupp with you. +30p

In a white room, my vision seemed to turn white.

I can bring Lydia with me.

　

But that’s surely not what her little sister (Lidia) would want.

Twin dissolution.

She will gain new parents and live happily as a single girl.

I must learn to live as just myself.

That’s what I told myself when I came here.

And yet, why?

"God..."

I chose her name.

—That was the third betrayal.