"Bless Me, Saintess, for I Have Sinned"

(Yuuta's Frantic Sprint to the Apartment)

I ran like a headless chicken, my backpack bouncing against my back as I weaved through the crowded streets. I must be insane. I just skipped class—even after the professor specifically told me not to leave.

But I couldn't help it.

I'd forgotten one crucial thing: Today, the Saintess is coming.

My heart pounded as I took a sharp corner, nearly knocking over a guy on a bicycle. "Sorry!" I shouted over my shoulder, ignoring his string of creative insults.

I flew up the creaky apartment stairs, my mind racing faster than my legs. How could I forget? Sister Mary is the last person you want to keep waiting. I felt like a soldier returning to his strict commanding officer after going AWOL.

I fumbled with my keys before finally flinging the door open.

And there she was.

Sister Mary, sitting in the traditional seiza position on the living room floor, as if my run-down apartment was some sacred temple. She gracefully sipped green tea, her long blonde hair flowing over her shoulders like a holy waterfall. Her eyes were covered by a soft, white blindfold, and her ears wrapped in delicate cloth. She wasn't blind—just painfully sensitive to light and noise.

Without thinking, I dropped my bag and practically dove into her lap.

"Sister Mary! I missed you!"

She gently patted my head, her touch as familiar and comforting as ever. "I missed you too, Yuuta. Look at you—so big now, like a real man... but still such a crybaby."

I let out a relieved sigh, feeling like a kid again, when—

TWIST!

She grabbed my ear, twisting it with the precision of a seasoned torturer.

"Y-OW! What the—?!"

"Yuuta. Who is that woman?"

"Huh?" I blinked, my brain still rebooting from the pain.

What women???

I turned my head, my heart dropping.

Erza was sitting on the couch, one leg casually crossed over the other, a steaming cup of tea in her hand. She looked perfectly relaxed, like a queen surveying her kingdom.

Beside her, Elena sat with wide eyes, her little legs swinging off the edge of the couch.

"Papa, are you crying?" she asked, her innocent face filled with genuine concern.

I felt my soul leave my body. I had completely forgotten to tell Sister Mary about Erza.

I gulped, sweat dripping down my face like I'd just run a marathon.

"Y-you see, Sister Mary, this is... I mean... actually—"

TWIST! She twisted my ear even harder, her grip unrelenting.

"Ouch! It hurts! Sister Mary!"

"You're married? And you didn't even tell me?" she growled, her voice sharper than her iron grip. "Who. Is. She?"

"I-It was just... an accident! That's all!" I stammered, my words tumbling over each other in a panicked mess.

"An accident?" Her tone dropped to a terrifyingly calm whisper. "What kind of accident?"

"Well... uh... I... um..."

She leaned in closer, her grip tightening. "I'm waiting, Yuuta."

I glanced desperately at Erza, silently begging for help.

Erza set down her teacup with a delicate clink, then stretched her arms casually, like she was about to tell a bedtime story. She looked at Sister Mary, then back at me, a wicked grin slowly spreading across her face.

"Oh, Sister Mary," she began, dramatically placing a hand on her chest. "It all happened on a full moon night. I was at a party... drunk. I went to bed early, thinking I'd be safe."

She sniffed, pretending to hold back tears.

"Then, Yuuta came into my room... and... and assaulted me! He said 'If you don't marry me,' he threatened, 'I'll make sure you carry my child!'" Erza's voice cracked with fake sobs. "And then… he did it! He really did it! I was helpless!"

"LIES!" I jumped to my feet, my face burning. "S-she's lying, Sister Mary! She's making it sound like I'm some kind of villain!"

I felt my life flash before my eyes.

"N-no! She's lying! She's making it all up!" I flailed my arms, panic setting my whole body on fire.

Sister Mary's aura darkened, her blindfolded eyes somehow locking onto me with deadly precision.

"So... she's lying, Yuuta?" she whispered, each word dripping with icy menace.

"I mean. some of it is kind of true. but it's all out of context!" I blurted. "Not the part about forcing! Definitely not that! I didn't force anything! I-I didn't even know she was drunk! I just... J..

Her grip tightened, pulling me down to her eye level.

"So it's true," she said, her voice like a death sentence. "You assaulted a pure soul, married her, and made her carry your child?"

"NO! Please, Sister Mary, you have to trust me!"

Erza took another sip of tea, looking every bit the smug, scheming villain.

"Oh," she added with a playful smirk, "and then he promised to raise our child as a warrior princess, just like in those medieval anime stories."

"THAT NEVER HAPPENED!" I shrieked, my soul practically leaking out of my ears.

Sister Mary's grip turned bone-crushing, and I felt my knees buckle.

"You and I," she whispered, her voice colder than a winter wind, "are going to have a long, very long conversation about this."

I felt my spirit collapse in on itself like a dying star.

After long conversation..

The sun beat down on my back, turning the small balcony into a makeshift punishment chamber. My knees dug into the rough concrete, and sweat poured down my face. I could feel my skin baking under the merciless afternoon sun.

Behind me, Sister Mary stood like a divine executioner, her white robes fluttering slightly in the breeze. She crossed her arms, her face hidden behind that familiar blindfold, yet I could feel her disapproving gaze burning into my soul.

"Ask forgiveness to God now," she said, her voice steady and firm. "For insulting His blessing and straying from His teachings."

I gulped, trying to keep my voice steady. "Y-yes, Sister Mary."

"Say it."

I took a deep breath, staring into the blinding sunlight.

"I am sorry, Lord. Forgive my sins and guide me back to your path."

Sister Mary's expression didn't soften.

"Don't forget to ask for a blessing for your child," she added, her tone sharp.

I sighed internally, clenching my fists. "And... please bless my child, Lord. May she walk in your light."

Suddenly, I heard a low, mischievous whisper from beside Sister Mary. It was Erza, leaning in with that wicked, satisfied grin.

"And wife, also," she added, loud enough for me to hear.

I felt my jaw clench.

Sister Mary, ever the obedient follower, repeated it without hesitation.

"Ah, yes. And for your wife as well."

My knees trembled, not just from the pain but from the burning rage bubbling up inside me.

Erza caught my eye through the glass door, her grin growing wider. She mouthed the words, "Good luck, my dear husband."

Inner me: Damn you, Lizard Queen. You did this on purpose. Just you wait. I'll get my revenge.

After what felt like an eternity, Sister Mary finally stepped back, her voice softening.

She turned to Erza and, to my shock, bowed.

"I am truly sorry," she said, her head lowered. "It's my fault for not teaching him proper morals and values. Please, forgive me for his transgressions."

Erza, ever the drama queen, placed a gentle hand on Sister Mary's shoulder, her face the perfect mask of fake compassion.

"No, no, Sister Mary," she said, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. "It's not your fault. Not everyone is born to honor God's path."

Then, without missing a beat, she glanced over her shoulder at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Somehow, my teeth were grinding so hard I thought they might crack.

Inner me: Just you wait, you Queen of Disaster. I'll show you.

Hours passed, the sun gradually sinking behind the buildings. My knees had gone completely numb, and my back felt like it had been roasted over a campfire.

Inside, Sister Mary and Erza continued chatting like old friends over tea, their voices drifting through the open balcony door. I couldn't catch their exact words, but every now and then, I'd hear Erza's laugh, sharp and victorious.

I couldn't help but shake my head, still kneeling under the setting sun.

Inner me: This isn't over, Erza. This isn't over.

[ Erza's POV ]

At first, I thought she was just a strange, overly religious woman, but the more we talked, the more I found myself actually enjoying Sister Mary's company. She had a way of speaking that felt... calming, even to someone like me.

We were chatting about Yuuta's strange behavior when she suddenly clapped her hands together, her face lighting up as if she'd just remembered something important.

"Oh! I almost forgot," she said, sitting up a little straighter. "I have an old album from the orphanage. Yuuta's childhood photos are in it."

I felt a wicked smile creep onto my face.

Oh? An album of my dear husband's embarrassing past? This is a gift from the heavens.

Sister Mary pulled a thick, dusty photo album from her bag and carefully opened it.

Elena, sitting beside me, immediately leaned in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

As the pages flipped, I saw picture after picture of a young Yuuta. Some had him covered in flour, clearly failing at baking. One had him with singed hair, probably from a kitchen disaster. Another showed him slipping down the stairs, his legs flying into the air like a cartoon character.

Elena giggled, pointing at a picture where Yuuta's face was smeared with chocolate and tears.

"Mama, look! Papa is so cute!"

I couldn't help but smirk, reluctantly admitting that this mortal did have his adorable moments.

But as I flipped through more pages, something strange caught my attention.

Yuuta was alone in almost every picture. Even in group shots, the other kids seemed to subtly distance themselves from him. He always looked slightly to the side, his small hands clenching nervously, his smile never quite reaching his eyes.

I frowned, my curiosity piqued.

I glanced at Sister Mary, who had been laughing along with us but now wore a more somber expression.

"Why is he always alone in these pictures?" I asked, my tone dropping. "Where are the other children? Didn't he have any friends?"

Sister Mary's smile faded, her fingers gently tracing one of the photographs.

"Well..." she began slowly, her blindfolded eyes seeming to stare far into the past. "He tried to talk with the other kids, but... they avoided him."

I felt a strange pang in my chest. "Why would they do that?"

She sighed, closing the album gently.

"Because... they thought he was cursed."

Cursed?

For a moment, the air in the room felt heavier, the playful atmosphere vanishing like a blown-out candle.

I glanced at Elena, whose smile had also faded, her little face now twisted in confusion.

Cursed???..!

To be continued...

✓[End of chapter].