Fuyuki Church.
"… Is this really where we're supposed to be living for the time being?" Bazett was doing her best to fight off the urge to whine.
"Reports did say that the church in Fuyuki wasn't getting proper maintenance for a long time." Caren Hortensia, her companion and charge she was assigned to guard, simply shrugged. Unlike most, she wasn't easily fazed and neither was she perturbed by the conditions of their new home. Or, at the very least, the sister was good at not showing any reactions whatsoever. "At least it's not the worst place it could've been. It still has an intact roof."
Bazett wasn't so sure how to take that as she looked at an old, decrepit structure that had survived the fire ten years ago. Well, calling its state as such was a stretch. As far as she knew, the Church had been blown up, burned to a crisp due to being partially consumed by the Great Fire incident, and had to be rebuilt from the ground up. Or at least, barely built up. The Vatican had more than enough resources to assist in the recovery project following the events of the Fourth Grail War… except the plans after remaking the structure never really took off.
In reality, despite Vatican's funding, the Fuyuki Church barely managed to get off the ground after reaching partial completion of its construction. Due to political and bureaucratic nightmares that followed the infernal blaze that rocked the entire city, the state of a chapel that very few civilians actually attended was, to put it lightly, set aside for a time.
It would've been odd to think that after recovering, the city continued neglecting it, but both Bazett and Caren were aware that there was an invisible hand playing a role in stalling with the Vatican's attempts to recover its influence in the city. There was not much they could do to complain.
The end result was less of a chapel and more of a rundown stone building left abandoned for nearly a decade. Shattered windows, rotting wood beams, and graffiti that was very much blasphemous for the religion the Church took up arms to protect. The entire place was just, to put it mildly, a mess. Not even worth calling a hideout unless you were of the youth that took to hiding here for a chance at underage drinking or overdosing on illegal drugs.
Bazett could only rub the bridge of her nose in frustration. "I thought the cardinal said we will have everything prepared for us."
Caren giggled in response. "I fail to see the reason for your discomfort, Miss Bazett. As far as his eminence is concerned, we have everything we need. A roof and four walls for shelter, a place remote enough that we can reinforce with protection and barriers while not obstructing the day-to-day activities of normal folk, as well as monetary support for supplies and such. Decrepit as it may be, the building itself isn't relevant enough to hamper our mission." Noting the frustrated sigh escaping the redhead, Caren's smile seemed to grow into a smirk, although she would deny it if it was pointed out. "Hmm… I thought the Association Enforcers were used to living in poor conditions for the sake of their mission. Or was it an exaggeration to glorify Clock Tower lap dogs?"
Bazett's left eye twitched. "Enforcers, in general, have no issues with enduring harsh environments. I, in particular, had spent months in mountains and deserts while hunting down rogue magi. I can put up with terrible living conditions when there is no alternative. But I expected the Vatican to provide the necessary accommodations for our stay in a foreign land. Should our target be very much entrenched in the local vicinity, it might take us months or even a couple of years to get to the bottom of this. An acceptable place to stay is the least I expected, at the very least for the sake of our morale."
"In addition," She continued. "I thought you folks were the best of the best, the most devoted when it comes to rooting out those who would obstruct the influence of your faith." Bazett then sardonically shrugged before snapping back quietly. "But I guess it's too much for me to expect the Vatican and its leaders of all people to understand the necessities of the material realm. You fanatics fast so often that I wouldn't be surprised you lost a few brain cells, forgetting that humans too have needs beyond faith."
"'Needs' and 'wants' have very different meanings for us, it seems, Miss Bazett." Caren, keeping a quiet smile as she studied the church under the light, softly chuckled.
"There's more to a base than a roof over one's head. If we're assailed, this place could very well become our tomb."
"It's not as though we'd allow ourselves to be trapped in the first place, no? But I understand where you're coming from. Despite what my superiors might say, this is a tad bit disappointing for the start of our cooperative mission." Bazett furrowed her brow at that. Though she agreed, the girl wasn't putting much effort into remedying their situation whatsoever. Caren caught her gaze and smirked. "It may not surprise you because of who we are, but when circumstances restrict us, no person of the cloth is above living in a hole. Even a doghouse would be preferable to the elements. Of course, I wouldn't insist this arrangement upon you."
"Tch… And you say I'm the lapdog…"
"Sister of the Word I may be, charity to heretics has its limits and would be more than a waste of our time when it could be better spent on the investigation. Personal comforts can wait. And before you retort, I would like to inform you that I wouldn't mind if you choose to deviate to seek a more luxurious place of residence. Though, that runs the risk of either of us being singled out by whatever group is hampering our respective factions' attempts to reach out in this country to begin with." The sister then casually pushed open the creaking and worn-down front door for them. She hardly flinched when they heard skitters and clattering inside, likely an animal that sensed their entry. "I wouldn't force my beliefs on those all too self-absorbed in their research that they neglect the worth of human life beyond heretical practices. Much less critique you for the little materialistic cravings that would deter your contribution to our job. So long as you don't drag us down, I would turn a blind eye to any complaints you may direct at my superiors. They sent just me because they understand how much effort I put into my duties, difficult conditions be damned."
In short, 'go do your own thing if you feel so inclined; I'm confident I can do this on my own'. Bazett resisted the urge to groan or swear at the young girl.
Despite being a relatively young Enforcer, Bazett being only twenty-three, the Irish magus had already met and worked with various different personalities. From arrogant snobs seeking glory from the Clock Tower to the psychotic and deranged rogue targets she and her people mercilessly hunted down. Even a few dead apostles had notable quirks she'd recall at times. Very few, if any, were the pleasing company, especially since their role as the Association's cleanup crew gave them quite the reputation.
But somehow, somehow, Caren Hortensia was proving herself to be the most insufferable person she'd ever worked with. And Bazett might have to work and live with her for a long period of time, depending on how long this mission goes on for.
'For someone related to the infamous Executioners, the very thing that irks me more is this brat's tongue.' Bazett sighed. The notion had been brought up before, they had plenty to talk about on the plane ride here. Not necessarily good nor bad topics, but most verbal communication often led to a verbal spar with mind games and veiled insults. Caren's polite way of speaking was anything but that. 'I expected the granddaughter of the renowned Kotomine Risei and daughter of the noteworthy Kotomine Kirei to be a little more… what's the word… Tolerable?'
Her grandfather was known for being one of the few Church Executioners that had a mostly positive reputation within the Association itself. And even Kotomine Kirei, someone who had an admirable work ethic and was decent when it came to cooperations between their sides, was seen as more… affable.
Their progeny, their descendant, Caren Hortensia, was barely cordial when she opened her mouth. Once, Bazett had enough and snapped that very statement before they even left Rome. All Caren had to say was this:
"...Sometimes I too wonder how I can be related to them. What would these two think if they saw me? I wouldn't know. And I highly doubt I'd ever will…"
The snarky sister's tone had all but softened for that moment, but only that moment. Ever since then, she maintained this insultingly polite, or politely insulting, attitude to her only companion on this job.
Bazett stared at Caren's back as they continued to march into the ruined chapel. 'Perhaps I judged this girl a little too harshly. She is still a child, after all. Not to mention… she probably had to listen to all these comparisons with her family many more times before meeting me…'
Maybe she could try and be the more open minded one. Besides, she was the older between them. And even if she was one of those stuck-up believers of the Church, a kid with issues shouldn't be pushed aside because she was different—
"Hmm, do you think we'd be able to find my father's remains after all these years? The Church reports about the police's findings did mention how his body was torn to pieces by the explosion." And just like that, every inch of sympathy Bazett nurtured for her evaporated with that bone-chilling inquiry. It was snuffed out entirely when the girl quickly scoffed. "But, heh, most likely it's a pointless endeavor. Even if something survived or was found during the meagre reconstruction, it'd quickly end up in the belly of a random stray. Or perhaps rotted and fertilized the unkempt lawn out front."
Said with a curious and pondering expression, it was like the sister was talking about a random flower she'd lost in the wayside. Even the way she dismissed the thought of her father's scattered remains littering the grounds as 'another way to nourish this temple of our Lord' turned the redhead off so quickly.
Bazett took back her thoughts of sympathy. This girl was definitely insane. Years of neglect and abuse might play a part in it but didn't change the fact that Bazett now had to work with someone normally thrown into an asylum. And this job could last for years… Great.
"Step aside. I'm going to clear out this place before we try sleeping in it." Stalking past the sister and putting as much distance between them, Bazett opted for something to distract her thoughts. "I better clean it up as well, seeing as you're just fine with taking a nap in a mould-infested corner. If I have to put up with you, at the very least I want to do so in bearable conditions."
"Suit yourself. It won't truly help you find peace, but good luck." Caren didn't seem to care much, even with that follow-up statement. "Oh, and fair reminder. We can't spend too much lest we leave a paper trail for our enemies. So be mindful of our budget and cut corners when you can. It's not as though we'd restore this place to working conditions anyway."
Bazett was silently cursing her luck and her past self for agreeing to this mission. Cooperating with the Vatican was an easy job, presumably. Saving face with their longtime rivals, that was child's play for an experienced and professional magus.
Dealing with Caren Hortensia and her insanity, now that was a chore.
'I expected nothing good to happen because the Association and the Church are working together to resolve an issue… and yet, the worst isn't an enemy encounter. It's the child I have to babysit for the time being…'
Unfortunately for the Enforcer, fate wasn't very kind to Bazett. Not even in this universe.