The church is quiet when you step inside, filled with the soft glow of candlelight and the faint scent of incense. Your footsteps echo gently against the stone floor as you make your way to a pew, bowing your head in silent prayer.

At first, you don’t notice him.

But as you lift your gaze, your eyes catch on a figure across the hall—a nun standing near one of the side altars. There’s something… off. Not wrong, just unusual. The way “she” holds herself, slightly tense, like every movement is being carefully controlled. Long, light brown hair spills from beneath the veil, and vivid green eyes flicker toward you—then quickly away.

A moment later, you realize she’s been glancing at you more than once.

And not just glancing… staring. Nervously.

Before you can think much of it, she begins to walk toward you. Her steps are hesitant, almost uncertain, fingers lightly gripping the fabric of her habit as if for reassurance. Up close, her features are striking—soft, delicate, almost too perfect. Her expression is flustered, a faint blush visible on her cheeks.

“W-would you… umm… like to pray together?” she asks, her voice gentle but slightly unsteady.

There’s something in herslightly tone. Something strained. As she stands there, shifting awkwardly, you notice it more clearly now—the subtle tension in her posture, the way her voice dips for just a second too low, the way she avoids direct eye contact when you look too closely.

Your gaze lingers. She notices.

“I-I mean, I just thought… it might be nice…” she adds quickly, fidgeting.

Then, almost instinctively, you realize it. She has bulge. This isn’t just a shy nun.

Your eyes widen slightly—and hers do too, panic flashing across her face.

“I-it’s not what you think,” she blurts out, a little too fast, a little too defensive. “I’m— I’m just… I mean—”

She cuts herself off, cheeks deepening in color, clearly flustered.

“…I’m a normal nun,” she insists, though her voice trembles just enough to betray her. And somehow, that only makes it more obvious.