The prayer room behind the chapel still held the warmth of the rose-moon incense from the afternoon mass. Only one small oil lamp was lit, casting a soft light on the stone walls decorated with reliefs of angels. Maria stood in front of the small altar, her back straight but her shoulders trembling subtly. Her hands squeezed the rosary as she whispered—broken prayers drowned out by restless breaths.
Ren stopped in the doorway, watching from behind the stone arch. They had not spoken since yesterday's conversation in the garden; Daiki had held Maria all afternoon, Hiro had followed Ren with a testing gaze. The night had only given a break, and Maria herself had sent a short message through the servant for Ren to meet her here.
She walked slowly, letting the sound of her bare shoes touch the floor as softly as the sigh of the wind. Maria turned—her brown eyes were reddish. "Ren…" It was just one name, but it was heavy. She placed the rosary on the altar, then squeezed her robe over her chest. "I… must speak, I..can't hold it in anymore.."
Ren nodded, moving closer until his shadow enveloped the priest's small body. "I'm listening," he whispered.
Maria took a shaky breath. "I confess… my sin is not just the desire of the flesh. My sin is… the desire to be by your side, even if it means hurting Daiki." Her voice broke, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I beg your forgiveness… but every time I close my eyes, all I see is your face."
Ren stood so close that the scent of Maria's skin penetrated the incense. He raised his hand, hesitated for a moment, then touched her cheek with the back of his finger. "The sin is not loving," he said softly. "The sin is only when you lie to your heart."
The words made the dam of tears collapse. Maria covered her face, her shoulders shaking. "My heart… betrayed me." She choked on a sob, but did not move away from Ren's touch. Instead, her body leaned into the warmth of his palm, as if seeking support.
Ren lowered his hand to the Priestess's tiny chin, lifting it slowly so that their eyes met. The oil lamp beside the altar lit up the tears, reflecting his reflection in Maria's pupils. His soul exploded: sympathy, desire, and protectiveness mixed like a strong current.
Without pressing, he lowered his head, stopping a strand of hair from Maria's lips. "May I…?" the voice almost disappeared.
Maria did not answer with words. But a trembling hand reached out, grasping Ren's robe on his chest, pulling it as thin as a breath. It was permission—fragile, but real. Ren closed the distance.
Maria lips—warm, soft, slightly salty from the remains of tears. Their first kiss was not a wild explosion, but a light rain in the heart of the dry season: slow, but penetrating to the roots. Maria sobbed in the middle of the kiss; Ren did not rush, only kissing slowly, letting his tongue be no more than a shadow touch on the holy girl's lower lip. His fingers stroked Maria's jawline, calming the tremors that beat there.
Maria shivered, but instead of backing away, she pressed herself against Ren—seeking more warmth that she had so far denied. The priest's hand that was still holding the robe went up to his shoulder, fingers feeling the base of Ren's neck, as if to make sure this was not an incense dream. She opened her lips back, trembling, accepting the small dance of Ren's tongue. Her sigh melted into his mouth, a mixture of tears and relief that was difficult to distinguish.
Ren pulled away for just one breath, wiping away fresh tears with his thumbs. "If you're sorry, I'll stop," he said. The quiet voice echoed in the stone room, almost more sacred than the prayer that had just been broken.
Maria shook her head quickly—tears again, but a small smile appeared amidst the sobs. "I… don't want to stop. But… I'm scared."
"Scared of what?"
"Scared of this feeling swallowing my faith. Scared of hurting you… and Daiki… everything."
Ren took her face in his hands. "I'm here to hold you up, not to bring you down." Then he kissed her again—deeper this time, hotter. Maria was surprised at how her body responded: her knees weakened, her hands seeking a hold on his waist. She curled closer, feeling the throbbing of his chest as ferocious as her own.
Ren's hands slid down Maria's back, tracing the light curves of her sin robe, stopping at her lower back—a spot he had already memorized that made her tremble. His fingers traced gentle circles, pressing her body even closer to his chest. Maria moaned into the kiss, her breath stifled.
Suddenly, the oil lamp flickered—as if the intimacy had choked the air. Ren broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to Maria's. They both panted, their breaths meeting halfway, warming their tear-stained faces. In the dim light, Maria looked both innocent and burning.
"God…" she whispered, closing her eyes, "forgive me—I was happy when I kissed him."
Ren held her tighter, one hand on her back, the other caressing the smooth nape of her neck. "Crying is not a sign of sin," he whispered, "but a sign of a living heart."
Maria sobbed again—this time, not of sadness, but of relief at having spoken the truth. She hid her face in his neck, kissing the skin above his collarbone. Ren inhaled sharply; the touch of those wet lips had triggered a surge of currents capable of breaking down any wall. But he held back, letting the soft kiss mark the line between passion and patience.
Seconds passed, the rain outside had stopped, but the small rain in Maria's heart continued to fall. When they finally parted, their eyes met—wet, honest, and scared. Maria wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. "I… can't go back to the old ways."
Ren nodded, brushing away a strand of hair that had stuck to her forehead. "Then, let's start anew. Slowly, but together."
Maria took a deep breath, then put the rosary back on her chest, staring at the small cross for a moment. "I'll talk to Daiki again tomorrow. But… tonight, stay here until I finish praying."
Ren lowered his head. "I'll wait, in the back pew. If you need a hand, call."
Maria laced her fingers with Ren's once more—a short, sweet touch—before turning to the altar. Her knees shook as she knelt, but her heart was now beating steadily. In her prayer, she whispered not about guilt—but about the hope of a union of faith and love. Tears fell, wetting the marble, but a thin smile formed on her lips.
Ren sat on the pew, his back leaning back, watching Maria's back as it trembled under the light. This was the "taste of sin" he craved: holy tears combined with the warmth of lips full of desire. A sweet victory, but also a door to a more slippery road.
Outside, Hiro stops at the end of the corridor, about to approach, but a distant flash of lightning startles him—pulls him back. He doesn't see the kiss, but he sees Ren on the bench, gazing at Maria with a gentleness in his eyes that he's never shown to anyone else. His suspicions are aroused.
"Tomorrow," Hiro murmurs, "I'll make sure it's true."
At dawn, a hero meeting is held; Ren is invited as a 'witness.' The tumult of hearts, loyalties, and guilt will collide in the hallowed hall—and once again, tears may turn to fire.