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Translator: penny
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: First Night (3)
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The Sun Church's main headquarters is situated midway up one of the continent's more rugged mountain ranges.
It's developed to be nearly as vast and bustling as a decent city, so it's not the shabby sort of religious hub you might typically imagine.
At any rate, perched high up as it is, it soaks in sunlight like nothing else.
Well... it's a church that worships the Goddess of the Sun, isn't it? From that angle, nothing too special.
Even for me, someone who never gives a damn about sunlight or insolation on a normal day.
Why was I letting these pointless thoughts balloon up at this exact moment?
If you asked, it'd be pretty damn awkward to answer. Not like I lacked the words.
It was just that my mindset right now defied easy explanation.
My head was a fog of swirling nonsense, my gaze blankly blinking into the void.
For a second, I half-assed an out-of-body attempt. If it worked, I'd bolt from this spot.
Of course, no dice—my consciousness stayed glued to my body.
Astral projection's a legit divine art, but it's insanely advanced.
I listlessly turned to eye a corner of the bedroom.
For any potential crises, most priests stash a couple Holy Stones bedside before bed.
I was no exception.
"..."
Toward that faintly platinum-glowing pebble on the little desk... I feebly stretched out my hand.
Normally, shifting a Holy Stone from this range half-seated? Hell, even a centimeter would've been a chore.
Maybe not for other Saint Candidates, but for me? Absolutely.
Clatter-
That was former top Saint Candidate Evan Lane's glaring flaw: Divine Power control.
Not anymore.
Whoosh...! Thud!!
The Holy Stone vaulted through the air at my will. I snatched it on reflex and barked a hollow laugh.
"...This shit actually works."
Honestly, I was half in doubt. I could feel the massive shift in my body's Divine flow intuitively.
Still, after years of dead ends, certainty was a tall order.
I stared holes into the Holy Stone nestled obediently in my palm.
Proof's proof—gotta buy it now.
Evan Lane's Divine slump? Too soon to call it, but... odds are damn near 100% it's licked.
At minimum. A few more nights like last one? Bet on it.
That realization hit, and I bit my lip till it hurt.
A little—scratch that, a lot scary. But now I had to face the girl I'd dodged till now.
I flicked my eyes to the bed's far side. The figure plastered to the headboard, distance maxed out.
"...Would dying make it easier...?"
"..."
Her sage-like, worldly-weary face leaking a soulless grin—of course, my arch-nemesis Lete Heresia.
Knees hugged at the bed's edge, eyes rippling vacant.
Breeze slipping through the open window teased her peach-blonde locks.
She was stark naked like me, of course. Sober inspection? Still drop-dead gorgeous...
'Fuck...'
But right now? Lusting after her bare skin was no easy feat.
I was torn up too. Woke to her arm slung 'round my neck, fast asleep.
Me flinching woke her right up.
How stay sane? I never dreamed I'd bang that Lete.
Not to mention deep-kissing, the kind you skip in most hookups.
'...Crazy bitch storms my room outta nowhere. So I just...'
I groaned, forehead in hand. Kinda torpedoes my "just for Divine Power" excuse.
"Haa."
Gonna lose it. No clue how to even start talking.
Common sense? She's the intruder—fault's hers. Smashed the damn door too.
Semi-forced the deed? Ironclad.
So... hash out blame with Lete, boot her out.
"..."
Couldn't stomach it. Pure victim? Nah—from midway, I dug it.
Call it mutual consent.
I shot Lete a sour side-eye. Cover it up? Easy enough.
Fudge my side, pin it all on her wrongdoing.
But—
'Don't wanna stoop that low.'
Lips smacked, body rose. Reporting'd mean big trouble for her anyway.
Not slap-on-wrist—full criminal treatment. No thanks.
Like her or not, she's one of my scant close ones.
I dumped my lust on her too. Conscience says chalk it up to her horny slip-up.
"W-What...?"
Sat up, stared her down—she flinched hard.
Aware of her stunt last night, huh...
Plus major self-loathing for banging Evan Lane.
Itchin' for hysterics but guilt seals her lips.
Damn novel vibe. Lete this meek to me? Never.
'Wasn't plannin' to be a dick.'
Thrill zinged; lips twitched up—I hand-blocked quick, but her lashes quivered.
"Y-You..."
"...Yeah."
"W-What're you thinkin'? Right now."
Blanket flung off, torso leaned my way.
Her panic-face? Pure feast. I indifferently raked her upper half, blurted:
"Hey, Lete."
"...Yes."
Nod. Tense gulp, dread-face waitin' my words.
No deep thinkin'. Heart led the words.
"This mess? Can't just sweep it. Too far. Crash another candidate's room for this?"
"...Ah."
Go see the Cardinals now. Gotta report. They'll punish however..."
Clothes half-on, whipped around. Two steps off bed, convo dead.
"...What?"
Crawlin' Lete snagged my hem at bed-edge.
Ghost-pale, tears brimmin', upgaze beggin'.
"E-Evan. Joke, right? Cardinals? T-That's cruel."
Forced grin, tugged me. Shaky voice screamed no chill left.
I peered down long, hit with short:
"Serious as hell?"
Face sheet-white. Demeanor shift. Desperate head-shake now.
"Evan, c'mon, yeah? We both had fun. Yeah I fucked up drunk, but you..."
"..."
Crystal what she meant. Spotted my desire-loss too.
Fine by me. Silent straight-line lips, steady stare-down.
Seconds tick—tears welled. Obvious.
"No, nope, won't. No excuses. Quit starin'. My bad this time, Evan."
"...Hmm."
"Panic over warnin' pile-up. Impulsive mess. Sorry, sorry."
Miserable as hell. Sobbin' Lete Heresia? Mythic Pokémon tier.
"...Ack!?"
Pondered, backed off silent; she tumbled after, grip tight.
"E-Evaaan..."
Still desperate cling, W-sit on floor, mercy-pleadin'.
Beggin' like this. One forgive? Didn't know it'd piss you off so bad. Shoulda factored your freak chastity kink."
"..."
Mercy? Or fightin' words?
"N-No, not that..."
Side-eye glare—she winced, eyes rollin'.
"Ugh, got it, got it. No more bullshit. Real talk—what I meant..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
Stalled again. Face beet-red, pride unbreakable on this.
"Time out."
"Ah...!"
Swatted her hand. Faked Cardinals-headin' face, zero intent.
She's desperate, not me—why drag?
Turned crisp—
"Virginity...! Sorry I stole it...!"
Lete wailed floor-bound; I froze.
Head half-turn:
"Huh? Missed that."
"Eek...!"
Face kettle-boil, neck crimson, steam risin'.
Itchin' to deck me—but nah.
Fists balled, repeat:
"Your... big-deal virginity. Took it. Sorry. I'll own it somehow."
"..."
"Cut me slack, pleaase. Hate this? But mine was precious too. Gave it to you. Huh...? Us, no need for this."
Hand off clothes, now shy-grab mine.
Slender fingers timid-touch my five.
Knows this grip's meanin'? Fingers laced, eyes sparkle-beg.
'...Beauty for days, damn.'
Heart skipped. Hate her? Beauty undeniable.
No rag hidin' that pale nude show.
Wasn't mad anyway—but even fumin', reject this?
Idle chuckle, squat-matched her.
"Hey."
Slumped shoulders, limp reply:
"Why call...?"
"Said you'd own it somehow. No backsies?"
"...Huh...?"
Blink-blink.
Hazy eyes refocus on me—I ditched heavy vibe, playful:
"Yo, partner up with me."
"...Mee?"
Backhand flick to her perky tit—bonus.
Squish-soft zap lingered on skin.
Lete blanked words/deed split-sec. Eyed her chest dumb.
Blink x2.
"...Hic. Eeeek!!?"
Soon hopped straight up. Face blast-red explode.
I snickered at her freak-out spectacle.
And first time ever that day... longtime bad-friend/rival Lete Heresia struck me as kinda cute.
...
...
...
Years later, future Evan Lane would desperately rue: 'Shoulda held back that once.'
But unknowable now.