Chapter Text
Rain fell, rendering the monastery blue.
It was daybreak, already. The floorboards creaked under his quiet footsteps until he reached the window. He shifted the curtains aside, staring at the barren, cool land of the countryside. Mountains climbed around their little piece of heaven on Earth—Lord, forgive him. He just loved the quiet.
He watched for a moment. The narrow road wove a meager path between pine trees. A great and steady fog scorned the land. He could practically smell it—the browned, cool grass; the brisk pine; the fire cackling against a lighter—forbidden and bold. He licked his lips.
“Father,” a small voice called from the doorway.
Sasuke turned his head. There, standing in a patch of fluorescent orange, stood Ino Yamanaka, a nun who had come to live at the monastery. She was his personal assistant; a small-town girl who gave her life to the Lord shortly after she graduated high school. She was pleasant, if not a bit loud, dressing in purple skirts and flattening sweaters. The patterns were always unique.
“Yes, sister?”
“I am told that a new sister is arriving this morning. Should I arrange for a greeting prayer? With you and Father Naruto?”
Sasuke nodded. Naruto was the Assistant Priest. He had come to St. Fushima’s Monastery about six months ago. Sasuke had been here far longer; almost three years, having taken over for the previous priest who died from old age.
He led the town in prayer every Wednesday and Thursday—then twice on Sundays. Naruto picked up the slack; Monday night, Tuesday morning, with bible study on Fridays and Saturdays. Both men participate in the weekly soup kitchen, the bi-weekly prayer for the sick and tortured, baptisms, and prayer circles.
Only Sasuke is a certified exorcist, however.
“Of course, Sister Ino,” he murmured slowly, turning back to the window. A small light glimmered against the fog. Slowly, it grew bigger and erupted from the treeline, light scattering against the rain. By the time Sasuke blinked, a black car emerged, twisting along the old road. “That must be her.”
“Sister Sakura is handling her orientation,” Ino said, still hovering in the doorway. “I see you have an evening prayer tonight…perhaps we can arrange her greeting for just before that?”
Sasuke shook his head—a short sharp movement that made his hair lift slightly.
“Father Naruto and I have our weekly Confession,” Sasuke said, voice roughened from use. It was Monday; yesterday he delivered three sermons with striking clarity. The small congregation sat so attentively and still that Sasuke could see each minute stretch of fabric—each trembling hand as they said amen. “We will welcome our sister after it.”
“Understood,” Ino said, nodding. She bowed before making her leave, her quick footsteps light against the wooden floor.
Sasuke turned back to the window, brow lifted as the car pulled to the nun quarter’s—a low, squat house several yards from the church. The house had one level and five bedrooms, four of them occupied by the other nuns who resided and worked in service at St. Fushima Monastery.
The Sisters are hardworking, Sasuke mused, adjusting the collar of his button-down shirt as we watched the car door open in the rain. They will welcome her.
It took a moment, but finally the new Sister emerged from the backseat, clutching a small, rolling suitcase and nothing else. Sasuke narrowed his eyes against her hazy figure in the distance, watching the rain pelt the car and bounce off the metal. The woman rushed under the umbrella held by Kakashi, the groundskeeper.
Just before she disappeared from sight, Sasuke noticed two things about her. The first, her hair was long and silky—almost gluttenous in its thickness. Prideful, vain hair.
The hair of a sinner.
…And the second; the woman laughed when she tripped over a stone. She clutched Kakashi’s shoulder for balance. The sound echoed across the grounds, hitting Sasuke just between the chest, making him gasp.
His fingers tightened against his collar. Energy shifted around his shoulders. He took his gently-worn bible inside his palms and felt calm.
Strange, he thought before giving a short shake of his head. He had work to do before…Confession.
♱ ♱ ♱
…Father Naruto was still sleeping when Sister Sakura knocked on his door.
He woke with great effort, his body lifting from his twin-bed. Modesty, as an Assistant Priest, was always the most difficult thing. Ever since he went to Divinity School and learned the sacred pillars of serving the Lord…he always wished for a bigger bed.
And yet, like most days, he still woke up with a smile set upon his handsome face. Friendlier than his counterpart, he drew most of the younger crow to St. Fushima. It was not that he was proud of his looks; just that he was happy to inspire young people to follow the Word of the Lord—through any means necessary.
In any case, every day he woke up was a good day for Naruto Uzumaki—praise the Lord! He said a quick morning prayer before pulling on his robe. He slid the wooden door open so fast that the cross handing against its mantled clicked faintly.
“Good morning, Sister,” he said, a wide smile pressing upon his face as Sister Sakura backed up. Sakura was his favorite nun—a headstrong woman who came from the city. Her story was fascinating; she had once been engaged to marry but discovered her fiance had been cheating on her for three years straight—the entirety of their relationship. In her great sorrow, she found Jesus and sought to give her life to him.
Now she is a faithful nun. Despite giving her life to God, she still had aspirations of her own. She sought to become a doctor and open a clinic here at St. Fushima for their small countryside congregation. She spent most evenings after services studying to get into medical school.
“Father,” Sakura greeted. “I have come to let you know that Father Sasuke has requested your assistance for a Greeting Prayer—a new Sister has just arrived.”
“Ah, the bastard finally needs me for something, eh?” Naruto said jovially. Sakura frowned, as was their dynamic.
Naruto was rougher around the edges as a younger pastor—not that Sasuke wasn’t; he was just more conservative in his practice. Naruto loved to swear. He also liked loud music. And dancing. Father Naruto loved to dance. The only person who would indulge him in this was Sister Ino, who politely lifted her hands in praise.
“We all should welcome her,” Sakura continued, nonplussed. “I heard…she is coming from a rough situation.”
“Must be rough to get placed here,” Naruto waved his hand around. Dust particles followed, catching the low light streaming through the windows. It was no secret that he did not like the countryside. He had hoped to be placed in a city, where he could serve more liberal audiences. Still, he tried to keep his grievances to himself. He was a grateful servant. “...just kidding.”
Sakura rolled her eyes and tucked a strand of pink hair behind her ear.
“Lady Tsunade is here to see you, by the way,” Sakura added, turning her gaze from him when Naruto walked back into the shadows of his room. He began to dress in sharp, smooth movements, pulling a polo over his head—a flash of skin, and then nothing.
“Her again?” Naruto said blandly–annoyed. Lady Tsunade was a life-long member of their congregation and one of the wealthiest women in town. She did administrative tasks on behalf of the church, making herself crucial to its organization. She liked to pretend that she had control. The church was extremely important to her, after all.
“Why doesn’t she ever wish to speak to Father Sasuke?” He grumbled, buttoning his pants. Sakura was now facing the wall.
“I believe they have butted heads at least a dozen times,” Sakura replied, blase. “You are the easiest to talk to.”
“God really did bless me, huh?” Naruto murmured, finally emerging from the room, dressed in slacks and his grey polo. He winked at Sister Sakura before going to start his day—another monotonous Monday at the Monastery.
♱ ♱ ♱
Confession, Father-to-Father, always started like this.
They did not bother with the wooden booth of privacy. Nor do they state their platitudes. Indeed, they sit in wooden chairs facing each other, in a small room held within their shared house.
The walls were white. Nothing on them, save for a large, wooden cross. There was one window. The curtains were closed. Rain pitter-pattered against the roof.
“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned,” Naruto began—he always did; he was younger, newer, more rough around the edges. He always set the tone. He dipped his head before following with the Sign of the Cross.
In front of him, Sasuke Uchiha sat, hands folded calmly in his lap, staring holes into Naruto Uzumaki’s face. The man’s energy was intimidating; his face sharp and handsome in its command for rapt attention and respect. He dressed in all black; a crisp shirt over fine muscles, slacks, like a shadow has given his life over to God. He gestured.
“Go on, Father.”
Naruto swallowed. He looked up quickly; Sasuke always sat just in front of the cross, as if backed by Christ himself.
“It…” Naruto began loosely, palms already sweating. “It has been a week since I last confessed,” he recited.
“It is well,” Sasuke murmured, gaze intensifying.
“Today, I let Sister Sakura watch me get dressed,” Naruto confessed slowly, eyes boring into Sasuke’s dark ones. His fingers curled beneath the wooden chair. “She turned away.”
Sasuke said nothing, just tightened his jaw.
“Last night, I had a dream,” Naruto continued, eyes shutting with memory. “And I woke up with my dick in my hand. I didn’t stop myself.”
Sasuke shifted.
“I don’t remember much of it,” he continued, head lowered. His hands were clasped tightly as if keeping him from acting on an impulse. “It was…I was…so deep inside this woman, I swore it felt like—yeah. And I woke up and I said Jesus. My cock was hard so…I touched myself.”
Sasuke’s jaw twitched, He shifted minutely, eyes boring holes into Naruto’s forehead.
“...is that all, Father?”
“No,” Naruto sighed, pulse increasing as he leaned back into the chair. “I nutted. All over my little bed. Then, I went out and smoked a cigarette. Sister Ino joined me.”
Sasuke lifted a brow. They had their rules. Naruto hadn’t crossed any.
Not really, anyway.
“Are you done now, Naruto?”
The way Sasuke said his name made Naruto’s mouth dry out.
“Yes, Father. That is all.”
Naruto recited the Act of Contrition, his voice low and slippery. It wrapped around Sasuke’s shoulders, pulling them closer together. The rain assaulted the roof, Naruto’s prayer assaulted Sasuke’s ears, and Sasuke’s eyes settled like something old living within the monastery. He enjoyed it, this part; the way Naruto begged when he prayed, his voice hollowing out until all that was left was the air in his lungs, and Sasuke watched him—watched his Adam's apple bob, the thick-throated swallow, the way his hands tightened when he said, amen.
And then it was over. At least Naruto’s part of it. Sasuke sat back, releasing the air stuck at the back of his throat. His counterpart’s azure gaze flickered up; waiting.
He did not rise to it. He began slowly, tipping his head back to the heavens as his voice unfurled itself smooth and clear against the white walls of the room. He always was a good orator.
“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned,” he spoke quietly, watching Naruto’s jaw click despite the fact that he scarcely said anything. The blonde shifted, still agitated from his own revelation of sins.
“It has been a week since I last confessed,” Sasuke continued, head cocked to the side as he watched Naruto tighten his folded hands. “It has been…a trying week.”
Sasuke exhaled. The room was stale—always was; old air, mold, the damp press of rain against the window sill.
“I thought…perilous thoughts when I caught my assistant priest staring when one of the church volunteers bent over to collect offerings,” he continued, blase, head rolling back to the ceiling. “I said to myself…how is he supposed to give himself to the Lord—to show up to our faithful congregation, when he is so dirty?”
Naruto huffed. He moved slightly in his chair, the wood of it scratching against the wooden floors.
“He is so dirty,” Sasuke continued, jaw twitching. “He makes me sick. My mind is filled with ways to punish him—forgive me, Lord, for he is under my gentle care and guidance. But his darkness is unrelenting. His sin impacts me, it makes me weak.
“I had visions,” Sasuke continued, resolute in his speech. He closed his eyes the way he did when he was in the middle of sermon, hands raised. “Thoughts—ideas. Perhaps I should bend him over, teach him to keep his gaze to himself? Perhaps I’d shove him to his knees, silence him myself, my hand on his head, guiding him. I thought all of these terrible things because he made me. Because he was the dirty one—the flaw in the careful fabric of our Blessed Monastery. Because he—”
“—Sasuke,” Naruto said, mouth open. He breathed heavily, his pupils delighted. He was begging him to stop. Sasuke was being particularly harsh, today.
Sasuke’s eyes sprang open.
“You dare interrupt?”
“—I am asking for mercy.”
“Mercy?” Sasuke laughed; it was a careless sound, jolting against the small room. He stood then, his full height looming as his hand darted out. He grabbed Naruto’s chin, pulling his face up towards him, the way his vision spoke; the way they had done before. He had a stubble on his jaw. It rubbed against Sasuke’s fingers in a way that he liked.
The Head Priest dropped his voice, “You think you deserve that?”
Naruto’s jaw twitched. Slowly, within Sasuke’s firm hand, he shook his head. Pathetic. As always.
“N-no, Father. I—”
The door bursted wide open as if pushed by the hand of God.
Both men sprang apart. Sasuke, with so much force that he knocked into his chair and tipped it over. It hit the wooden cross on the wall with such power that the cross jolted and fell straight off the hook. But neither man could pay much attention to that.
Instead, their hearts whirled as they looked at the figure standing in the doorway; a woman no more than five feet, clutching her chest, backed by a brilliant white light.
“E-excuse me Fathers,” her angelic voice called out; soft like a psalm sung to lull a congregation to peace. Her hair blew gently against the wind. “I…I was told there would be a greeting prayer?”
♱ ♱ ♱