The sound of the lunch gong echoed through the cafeteria of the eastern barracks, drawing soldiers in droves. The aroma of barbecued meat filled the air, mixed with laughter and the clink of cups. But in the corner of the room, the atmosphere was far more tense.
Daiki—a giant hero—stood in front of Ren as he reached for a bowl of oatmeal. The muscles in Daiki's arms tensed beneath his sleeveless shirt, and his usually friendly brown eyes were clouded with gloom.
"Ren," he said without preamble, "I hear you often accompany Maria in the chapel… too often."
The small commotion at a nearby table hushed; a few servants whispered, waiting for developments. Ren looked at Daiki with a polite bow, as if the hero were merely an equal, not a man who could bend steel.
"Priestess Maria is fragile," Daiki said again, his voice low but clear. "Her duties are heavy. I would hate for anyone—even you—to burden her further."
Ren nodded slowly. He set the bowl on the table and took Daiki's clenched hand in his—a bold move that made the soldiers around him hold their breath. "I understand your concern," he said calmly. "It's precisely because Maria is fragile that she needs another shoulder while you're busy leading the line. I'm not here to replace you… just to make sure she doesn't collapse."
Daiki stared at Ren intently. "Make sure you're right," he hissed. "If I find Maria crying because of you—" The sentence hung in the air; the threat was more real than any words.
Ren didn't back down, but his voice softened. "If Maria is sad because of me, you can be the first to punish me." He patted his chest and handed Daiki the bowl of wheat. "You need more strength than I do. Eat."
The simple offer dispelled some of Daiki's anger. He took the bowl, muttering a thank you—but his gaze remained suspicious as Ren left the crowd.
The side chapel, an hour later.
Maria sat on the altar steps, hugging her knees. Her face was drawn; the last of the tears were visible at the tips of her eyelashes. Ren approached, his steps barely audible. When Maria lifted her head, she quickly wiped her cheeks, as if afraid of being caught crying.
"Daiki…" she whispered before Ren asked. "He said I should distance myself from you—for my own good." Her voice cracked. "Did… I rely on you too much? Was letting you massage my shoulders—playing with my toes—a great sin?"
Ren crouched in front of her, looking into her brown eyes with empathy. "If it's a sin, I'm the one who did it," he said slowly. "I suggested it, I touched it. You only accepted the hand I gave you."
Maria shook her head vigorously. "No—I… I enjoyed it. And afterward, I felt guilty, as if I betrayed Daiki." Her body shook slightly. "I'm a priest. But my heart… was in turmoil."
Ren took a breath, his gaze pretending to be filled with regret. "I'm sorry. I should have restrained myself." His warm hand reached out, stopping right in front of Maria's cheek—waiting for permission. Maria closed her eyes, tilting her head; a silent permission. Ren touched the wet cheek, his thumb brushing gently.
"Sometimes," Ren whispered, "we need someone who understands the dark side of the heart, not just the bright side. If you feel guilty, let me carry it. Let me be a wall for your sins… so that you can remain pure."
Maria sobbed softly; the words were like a doorway for tears. She bent down, and her tiny shoulders shook. Ren hugged her—a gentle embrace, nothing more than a guard. But Ren's hand on her back pressed gently at the exact spot that had made Maria tremble before. The girl's body stiffened, then surrendered, sinking into Ren's chest.
Tears stained her robe, but Ren only stroked her back patiently. Between sobs, he whispered, "Daiki is strong on the battlefield. I… will be strong on the battlefield of your heart. Two protectors are better than one, right?"
Maria didn't answer; she only nodded into Ren's chest, her grip on his arm tightening—like a lifeline on the cliff of guilt. Ren knew then: rather than moving away, Maria was now more afraid of losing her "heart protector."
Meanwhile, in the training yard, Daiki was hitting a wooden block until splinters were flying. Hiro approached him, calming him down. "What are you thinking about?" Hiro asked.
Daiki lifted his head, breathing heavily. "Ren," he said simply. Then he related the conversation in the cafeteria. Hiro furrowed his brows; he remembered the night guard's report about Ren wandering around. "We need proof," Hiro muttered. "If there's something wrong, save the heroines before it's too late."
Night fell. Ren lit candles in Maria's room at her request—moonflower incense again, but this time Maria arranged it herself. In the doorway, Ren looked at her, smiling softly.
"Are… you going to stay here until I fall asleep?" Maria asked, her voice still hoarse.
"If you let me." Ren approached, stopping beside the bed. Maria lay down, a blanket covering her waist. She reached for the rosary, closing her eyes. Ren sat down in a chair, two spans from the edge of the bed.
Silver smoke enveloped the room. Maria's breathing slowed. But before she fell completely asleep, she reached out in the air, searching for something.
Ren held it.
"Don't… go," she muttered half-asleep. Ren tightened his grip, instilling a sense of security—an inner shield that was all he had now.
And in the hallway outside, Hiro and Daiki passed, finding the priest's room door firmly closed. Hiro placed his palm on the wood, hearing faint whispers behind the incense; he couldn't make out the words, but the warm tone was enough to light the embers of jealousy.
"Tomorrow," Hiro said softly to Daiki, "let's talk to Ren… the three of us."
Daiki nodded. In the darkness, the two heroes didn't realize how deeply Ren's web had ensnared the priest's heart—and how difficult it would be to break free unharmed.
In Maria's dream that night, Ren was no longer a blurry silhouette—but a clear figure leading her down a corridor of light. Right at the end of the hallway, Daiki's large shadow stood, glaring at her with angry eyes. Maria stopped in the middle, torn between the protector of war and the protector of her heart.
She woke with Ren's name on her lips… and a sudden knock on the door signaled a new dawn—a day of inevitable confrontation.