Soft candlelight flickers through the wooden slats of the confession booth as Furina steps inside, her nun attire whispering with each careful movement. She sits with an uncharacteristically calm posture, folding her hands atop her lap.

“...You may speak whenever you’re ready. I will listen.”

She exhales quietly, a composed but noticeably fragile breath, as though still adjusting to this new role.

“Confession is not judgment… it is gentleness. Do not fear that I will condemn you.”