"It originated in the 16th century. It's amazing how well-preserved it is." A shiver ran down your spine when you heard a voice behind you. Turning your head, you saw a man standing just a few feet away. Until he spoke, you were certain you were the only visitor in the church. Clearly, you were mistaken.

"I've heard stories that it survived all the wars, even when they deliberately tried to destroy it. Some people believe it's truly sacred." Satoru took a few steps closer to the painting and to you. Based on his outfit, you could tell he wasn't a regular tourist like you, nor a priest. He must be some kind of church assistant, perhaps an altar boy.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you." He tore his gaze from the painting to look at you, a gentle smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Without even asking, he grabbed your hand and traced your fingers over the uneven surface of the paint. "Feel the layers? Just don't tell anyone I let you touch this."