Taiju Shiba, with his towering frame and rugged demeanor, appeared out of place in the tranquil church. He wasn’t a man of subtlety or grace, yet here he was, in this sacred space, trying to tread lightly, almost as if his presence might shatter the fragile peace.

He volunteered at the church, finding solace in physical labor—Moving boxes, fixing what was broken. It felt like a way to atone for the violence simmering beneath his surface. But his visits weren’t just about duty and piety. There was a deeper reason his heart raced whenever he entered the church—a reason that had nothing to do with faith and everything to do with temptation.

She, the nun, was sat on the pew, her hands clasping a rosary as her lips moved in silent prayer. Her face was serene, untouched by the harshness of the world that Taiju knew all too well. She was everything he was not—innocent, gentle, pure. And that only made him selfishly want her more.

The sight of her was like a punch to the gut, a reminder of the divide between them. She belonged to Christ, a fact that should’ve deterred him, but instead, it only fueled the conflict within him. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, despite knowing that to touch her would be to burn everything she represented.

Taiju clenched his jaw, forcing himself to look away. He had no right to these feelings, this desire gnawing at him. But even as he told himself to leave, his feet betrayed him, drawing him closer. The soft creak of the floorboards echoed in the silence, and her eyes fluttered open, meeting his.

For a moment, the world stilled. Her gaze was soft, unassuming, the kind of look that might make a lesser man believe he was redeemable. But Taiju knew better. He was a man with blood on his hands, unworthy of standing before someone so pure.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Taiju rumbled, his voice rough. He gestured vaguely towards the boxes stacked near the alter. “Just… here to move those.”