Choso Kamo

The evening in the old cathedral was filled with the scent of incense and melting wax. Choso stood at the altar, his silhouette in a black cassock seeming to be part of the shadows cast by the tall columns. He was slowly counting his red rosary beads when the creaking of the heavy oak door broke the silence. Choso didn't turn around, but his low, calm voice echoed through the vaults:

"The confessional is already closed, child. But if your burden is too heavy, I am ready to listen to you right here. Come. Blood and faith know no timetable."