Chapter Text
As I lay spread and soaked in my sin, I had sworn to myself never again.
I clutched my rosary as he thrust inside me, hoping it would tether me to this mortal plane and prevent his own sin from reaching my insides. The man above me then relaxed, stroking my hair and exposed skin as though I were a pacified animal. His sin slowly began to seep from between my legs, staining my bedsheets as he had stained my soul.
Though he held me close, no comfort was given. The grip was tight and unyielding, even as his breaths grew deeper and his heartbeat relaxed. I had been trapped beneath him, and I thought to myself whether I would now be trapped in damnation.
So I held my rosary and stared up at the roof as though I were staring at my lord himself and prayed. I prayed for the strength to deny lust in the future, for the soul of the man I had lured to my bed, and for the forgiveness of my eternal soul.
When I awoke, the man was gone, leaving behind not an indent in my mattress. The morning bells called us to the chapel, and with every step I felt the weight of my sin growing lighter. I was as clean as the day I entered the convent, a picture of purity.
Following mass, we were given an hour for silent recreation, unless you were assigned to prepare breakfast—a responsibility falling on Sister Sasha and me this morning. Being in such close proximity to someone for so long was usually awkward for me, so I always appreciated how she led the conversation.
"Sister Maria, please let me take over; you'll burn the oatmeal if you stir at that pace." Sister Sasha slid forward from behind me, taking the ladle from my hand. "You can plate the strawberries if you want something to do, though you seem a bit dazed. Maybe head up to your room and rest until breakfast?" I hadn't noticed that I was zoning out, though it aligned with the fact I hadn't slept very well.
"Thank you for your concern, Sister Sasha. Though I'm alright," I smile at her and let her take over preparing the oatmeal while I cut and sugar the remaining strawberries. "I had trouble sleeping last night, is all," which is technically true.
"Yea, I did too. I kept hearing this banging noise… but it was too inconsistent for my brain to tune out." My throat tightens, and I pause the cutting as I wait for her to elaborate. She continues, "I'll have to ask the custodians to check it out if it continues tonight—a broken pipe, maybe?" I relax and resume my cutting, whispering a silent thank you to the heavens above. I don't know what I would do should my closest friend discover my transgression.
"I heard it too, but I think it was coming from outside. It was probably just the wind." I keep my voice steady, emphasizing the exhaustion in my tone to conceal the anxiety underneath. Sister Sasha hums in agreement, and I allow myself to let it go. "I'm going to set the table. Don't touch the oatmeal, okay?"
She turns her head back to me, her face full of vexation. "I can wait ten more minutes for breakfast, Sister Maria. It was one time I snuck food before Mother Hange permitted it." She turns back to the oatmeal, muttering to herself as I leave the kitchen, "One time…"
When I return, the oatmeal is finished, and both the oatmeal and strawberries are assembled on the serving cart to be moved into the dining room. Sister Sasha is leaning against the counter, rubbing her forehead in her hands. She looks up to me as I enter and delivers a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. It's only then I notice how deep her eye bags are settled in her face, and I return the smile while a rush of guilt squeezes my stomach.
"Go tell Mother Hange that we're ready for breakfast. I'll wheel out the cart and clean up in here." Sister Sasha nods and leaves. I push the cart into the dining room and return to finish cleaning, wiping off the counters until the bell sounds.
I leave the kitchen again and stand by my chair, waiting silently while the sisters enter the room one by one. Sister Sasha eventually joins me at my side, and we all stand with our heads bowed as Mother Hange enters, an unknown man trailing behind her.
"You may be seated, sisters." We sit, and Mother gestures to the man to sit at an empty chair on the opposite end of the table. As he sits, Mother continues, "This is Father Levi; he will be joining us as our resident chaplain." She finishes and sits.
Father Levi lifts his head, his gaze raised enough to acknowledge the table without truly meeting anyone's eyes. "Thank you for having me. I hope I won't be a disruption to your routines." His voice is flat, completely devoid of warmth. As his eyes land on me, I notice his lack of warmth extends further than his tone, and my spine stiffens under his cold gaze. My breath catches as eyes meet his, I force a nod as his eyes sweep over to Sister Sasha, who's already eating. Though he hadn't lingered, I could still feel the weight of his gaze upon me.
Sister Historia is smiling, as per usual. Sister Ymir is barely awake enough to eat. Both Sister Annie and Mikasa appear bored. Mother Hange has begun drinking her tea while her eyes scan the newspaper I set at her place. Sister Historia is the one to break the silence.
"Father Levi, it's a pleasure to have you with us. Would you share with us what brought you to our convent?" Her voice drips with the saccharine politeness in which she's so practiced, I could never understandhow she manages to be so excruciatingly nice. I glance to Father Levi, my eyes resting on his perfectly folded hands. He hasn't touched the food in front of him.
"I've been assigned here on mission." He explains with the same consistent tone and then gives nothing else. Sister Historia, though clearly rattled at his avoidance, maintains her usual smile as she begins to eat her oatmeal. I scan Levi's face, attempting to assess his reasoning for stonewalling Sister Historia, though he once again betrays nothing. His face is as rigid as his posture: unyielding, impassive, unbroken.
"Sister Maria," Mother Hange folds her newspaper shut. "Show Father Levi the chapel and guest quarters after breakfast." My breath catches before I stop myself.
"Yes, Mother." I lower my gaze to my untouched food, as I still know better than to question the Mother Superior.