Fake bells ring over the speakers inside the church this morning. Already there were a few people in the pews, but now the main crowd was flocking in. Music began to play, and in a procession of altar boys (and people still looking for seats), Hiyama Kiyoteru walked inside. Standing in the front, he began to say, "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit…"

The mass proceeds as usual.

"... and you can check the church activities bulletin on our Facebook page. Now, go out in peace."

As people begin to leave, Father Kiyoteru smiles at the band he invited today in the musicians section. Each of the four smile back with varying amounts of enthusiasm.

"This was a delightful experience, Mr. Hiyama!" says the keyboardist, Amane Haruto. "If it weren't for the work I have to do at the school, I'd love to play here every week."

Candy sweet is Hokaze Natsuki. "I thought drumming here would be a little more exciting…"

The guitarist was already packing away. "Sorry Teru, lots of people get groceries today. I have to man the shop," Hiyama Akito says, slipping away.

"I hope this doesn't become a regular occurrence," mutters the bassist, Azuchi Tohma. Louder, he adds, "Father, when do you plan to actually come to band practice?"

Haruto panics for a moment. "We're releasing a new album!? Oh, I misheard."

"Any time during the week, I'm much less busy," Kiyoteru says. The two teachers in the band give him a look. "Really, I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do about the schedule."

The band talks for a while longer about scheduling, the songs they've been writing, and various other things in their lives.

"Remember, Ice Mountain is named after YOU, Father Hiyama. Don't let us down," Tohma says at last. "I need to get back to the school."

Haruto returns from putting the music sheet books away. "I'll come with you, Mr. Azuchi. There is much to be done."

The teachers leave, while Natsuki is still hanging around. "By the way," he asks. "Where do you get that bread? The little pieces you blessed and started handing out to everyone?"

"It's the Body of Christ, and I ordered it off the internet," Kiyoteru says almost indignantly.

"I could probably bake it for you instead," Natsuki says, shrugging. "Anyway, see you." He picks up his drumsticks, some pieces of the kit, and leaves.

"Who were they?" one of the volunteer ushers asked Father Kiyoteru.

"Oh. That's my rock band."

Father Kiyoteru had spent quite a lot of time indoors, an increasingly stuffy place full of incense he had long ago been desensitized to. He leaves briefly, stepping into the autumn chill outdoors. The trees in the park are a myriad of colors, making even their death for winter feel festive. Teru wonders what seasonal goods the Hokaze Bakery is currently selling.

Children were playing on a playground, but also in piles of leaves that groundskeepers had raked up. They look so happy, Kiyoteru thinks to himself. If not a priest, perhaps he would have wanted to become a teacher, or even a parent. Another man walking through the park stops next to him.

"Eyeing your next fuck, eh? That little boy there has a nice ass," he jokes, taking his cigarette out of his mouth for a hearty laugh. Ashes fall to the ground.

"How could you say something so VILE?" Kiyoteru reacts, unconsciously stepping away.

"You're one of them Catholic priests, aren't ya," the man asks, putting his hand on Kiyoteru's shoulder. Teru nods nervously. "You lot can't help it. I'll try not to judge though, accept the gays and all." He winks.

Not knowing at all how to respond, Kiyoteru pushes the man's arm off and marches away, back towards the church.

Who could that have been anyway? He didn't look like anyone from this town, in fact, downright foreign. But there's nothing in Hachigata that Kiyoteru knew of which would attract foreign tourists, especially those kinds of people, with such disgusting ideas about his profession.

Some people had planned to come to church for confession this afternoon. Teru needs to make it back in time for them, and he just about makes it.

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."

"It has been about.. five months since my last confession."

"It's been a few weeks since my last confession."

"I haven't come to confession since last October."

"I'm so sorry, my last confession was only a couple days ago."

"My last confession was years ago."

"I've been neglectful towards my friends, who turned out to be struggling a lot lately.."

"I yelled at my sister when I was angry over nothing."

"I let down my coworkers when I was trusted with something important."

"I got drunk last night."

"I lost my job a long time ago, but I moved back with my parents and I've been such a burden to them."

To each of these somewhat anonymous stories, Father Kiyoteru listens, forgives on behalf of the Lord, and offers advice and some act of penance. It felt heavy, having to take in all of the stories that have been weighing people down. Doing this for a while was eventually tiring. Still, he persisted- they came in earnest to seek forgiveness, counsel, and promise to live a better life. Why then was it still taxing?

A young girl, maybe barely a teenager, came in next. It was quiet. She sniffled, and knelt down in the confessional booth.

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It's been two months since my last confession," she said in a shaky voice. What a burden she must be carrying.

"I was behaving inan-inappropriately at home. And I t-tempted by dad into h-aving sex.. with me. Because of that, I.." She pauses, choking on her words. "I'm pregnant, and I d-don't know what to do."

Kiyoteru couldn't believe what he was hearing. A father raping his own daughter- probably only in middle school- and forcing her to take blame! He's remembering now, that time two months ago. Probably this same girl, who had again spoken as if she was the one at fault for the abuse she suffered. Something is wrong with this town.

And there is nothing Kiyoteru could do- it's absolutely forbidden to talk about what one has said within confession. Police, CPS, they have no real proof, only hearing some religious man saying in vague terms that a girl is in danger. Unless there was some way that he alone could act.

An uncomfortable flashback to being accused of pedophilia in the park earlier that day. Oh, he wanted to throw up. Pushing that thought away, he tried to focus on what the girl had actually said to give her an actual response. He was silent for far too long.

"I'm thinking about abortion," she mentions.

"No." Kiyoteru says this firmly, immediately without thinking. "Life is such a precious thing. You cannot throw it away like that. Through your pregnancy, and when you raise the child, the Church will support you- I'll support you."

A sob from the other side almost manages to break through. "I sshouldn't have come here.." she whispers, unfortunately just loud enough to hear.

Kiyoteru doesn't want to make this any worse- so he rushes the rest of it. Pray so and so number of Our Fathers and Hail Marys. She leaves without another word.

Various other services happen at the church until work concludes for the evening, and Father Kiyoteru finally leaves to go home.

"Don't you wish you could've done something?"

He turns around, but nobody is around who could have said that. He continues walking.

"Some people in this town are unforgivable."

It almost sounded like a passing thought in his mind. No harm in thinking a little bit.

"Disgusting, and depraved, but you don't even know exactly who they are."

That's the unfortunate thing- no, protecting people's personal privacy isn't unfortunate. If disgusting and depraved people want to talk about what they've done, they have the right to keep themselves secret. That doesn't sound right.

"They can't hide forever."

Kiyoteru unlocked the door to his apartment and went inside, taking his shoes off. It felt as if an immense presence was already there.

Standing inside the main room was a humanoid being.

"Fear not, I am no grotesque angel covered in wings or eyes. I've come from Hell to make a business proposition."