I Came to Protect Them But Now I Only Corrupt Them (R-21)

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On the morning of New Year's Day, a long line of worshipers stretched out at Tsukishiro Shrine, waiting for their first shrine visit of the year.

When Tsukishiro Saya, dressed in her miko attire, appeared in the shrine grounds, a small stir rippled through the crowd. Her dignified posture, graceful movements, and pure expression—Saya's sacred aura captivated all who beheld her.

Momota, standing among the worshipers, quietly observed her through his black-rimmed glasses. Saya took up the Kagura bells and began the ritual. The sound of the bells resonated through the shrine grounds, accompanying her elegant dance.

"She's beautiful..." Momota whispered softly. She shone with a divine radiance, unlike the Saya he saw in the classroom every day.

When the ritual ended, the worshipers gradually made their way home. Along the path, praises for Saya were endless.

"That miko, she was like a celestial maiden."

"I took some photos, she was truly stunning."

"Is that Ms. Tsukishiro's daughter? As expected of the chief priest's daughter."

The next day at school, the classroom was abuzz with talk of Saya.

"Saya Tsukishiro was so dignified, wasn't she?"

"Photos of the shrine are all over social media. They're getting a huge reaction."

"Tsukishiro really is in a league of her own."

"Oh, stop it..." Saya buried her face in her desk, her face beet red. She was back to her usual shy self.

"I just helped my dad, that's all..."

"But you were really wonderful."

Momota's words slipped out, making Saya's face turn even redder.

"Even Takejiro-kun..."

After school, as they walked home, they laughed about their classmates' still-excited reactions. But within Momota's heart, Saya's divine figure remained vividly etched.

I can feel Momota's feelings growing. Watching these memories, I also feel a pang of sadness. I continue to delve deeper into the memories, until I reach the beginning of the darkness.

The shrine at dusk. The warm glow of lanterns began to gently illuminate the shrine grounds.

It was the Tsukishiro Shrine Summer Festival. Saya, in her miko attire, rushed over to Momota, who was waiting in a corner of the grounds, between helping with the festival preparations.

"Sorry, Takejiro-kun. Did I keep you waiting?"

"N-no, it's fine. I don't mind... waiting."

Momota, small and wearing black-rimmed glasses, widened his eyes at the sight of Saya. Dressed in white and red robes, she looked even more dignified in the lantern light.

"My dad said 'until the miko duties are over'... but it's okay now!" Saya said, lightly pulling on Momota's sleeve.

"Come on, let's go to the food stalls. There's goldfish scooping, which you like."

"Uh, yeah..."

The shrine grounds were already bustling with many worshipers. As they walked past the stalls, Saya continued to chat happily.

"You know, this year I'm going to try shooting. Isn't that bear plushie cute?"

Momota silently nodded. In fact, he had secretly been practicing shooting since yesterday, all for Saya's smile.

"Oh, but before that..." Saya stopped and took something out of her drawstring bag.

"Here, this. An amulet."

A brand new amulet was presented to Momota.

"I made it. Because you're always so kind, Takejiro-kun... As a thank you."

Momota's face turned beet red as he gently and carefully received the amulet as if it were a precious treasure. Handmade by Saya. That fact alone made his heart pound.

"Th-thank you... I'll treasure it."

"Mm-hmm!" Saya smiled broadly.

"May even more happiness come to Takejiro-kun with this."

Momota, putting the amulet in his chest pocket, secretly whispered, "I'm... already happy enough."

The two walked through the bustling festival under the lantern light. Occasionally, Saya's yukata sleeve brushed against Momota's arm. Even such a small contact made Momota's face flush.

Within their memories, the two continued to grow. Sweet memories, like watching a romance movie.

Dusk in the art room. In the quiet after school, only Saya's brush continued to move.

"It's already six o'clock. Shouldn't we..." Even when Momota spoke, Saya wouldn't take her eyes off the canvas. Her hand, clutching her mother's keepsake brush, tightened.

"Just a little more... I want to finish painting this light." Her profile, illuminated by the setting sun, was as beautiful as a painting. Momota silently sat back down.

"Sorry, Takejiro-kun. Always making you stay with me."

"Don't worry about it. I... I like seeing your paintings, Saya-chan."

At those words, Saya looked a little sad.

"My dad doesn't really approve of me painting." The movement of her brush stopped for a moment. "He says as the successor to the shrine, I shouldn't be spending time on such things... but I can't stop painting."

Momota saw the strong will in Saya's eyes. He could feel an unyielding strength there.

"I'll... I'll support you." His voice trembled slightly. But he continued with all his might, "Your paintings are so beautiful... they touch my heart. So please, keep painting."

"Takejiro-kun..." Saya's eyes welled up. In the art room, bathed in the setting sun, they gazed at each other in silence for a while.

"Thank you. It makes me happiest to hear you say that, Takejiro-kun."

The painting, when finally completed, depicted a single wildflower blooming in the schoolyard at dusk. Its ephemeral beauty and strength showed a mysterious harmony, as if it mirrored Saya herself.

"Beautiful... It's truly beautiful, Saya-chan."

Saya smiled happily at Momota's honest remark. As they began to tidy up, their reflections in the art room window swayed like gentle silhouettes.

"Thank you. Hearing that from Takejiro-kun makes me the happiest."

That incident occurred two days after their time in the art room after school.

At dismissal time, Sugimoto Ryosuke, the soccer team's ace and the object of many girls' admiration, stopped Tsukishiro Saya in front of the shoe lockers.

"Tsukishiro-san, could I have a word?"

At his voice, the surrounding students stirred. Momota stopped a short distance away, watching the two of them through his black-rimmed glasses.

"Actually, I've liked you for a while, Tsukishiro-san..." Sugimoto's confession was as refreshing as the rumors said. A tall senior with a charming smile. A confession from someone universally acknowledged as a good catch. Sugimoto's face, as he confessed in public, was brimming with confidence, not considering rejection in the slightest.

Saya showed a momentary expression of surprise, then quietly shook her head.

"I'm sorry. I... have someone I like."

Sugimoto's face crumbled in shock. Her words instantly spread throughout the school.

The next day, the classroom was entirely focused on finding Saya's crush.

"What?! She turned down Sugimoto-senpai?"

"Who could Saya like?"

"Maybe someone from another school?"

"No, isn't it someone from our school?"

The rumors knew no end.

As they approached graduation from middle school, a subtle shift began to occur in their relationship.

Within the shrine grounds. Under their usual camphor tree, Saya was surrounded by more serious art supplies. Oil paints and canvases. Her talent, which had begun to be recognized in the art club, was definitely blossoming.

"How's the light in this one?" Saya showed the canvas to Momota. The brushwork was much more refined than before, depicting a world of light.

"You've gotten so good." Momota genuinely admired it.

The art teachers also highly praised Saya's talent. She won an award at the prefectural exhibition and was even featured in the newspaper.

"I want to go to an art university in Tokyo," Saya suddenly declared.

"Art university..."

"Yeah. I want to study art more seriously."

Momota silently nodded. Saya's eyes held a strong light. Ironically, that brilliance was far more dazzling than the specks of light only Momota could see.

"You know," Saya continued, gazing into the distance, "I'm going to become a first-rate painter someday and hold my own exhibition. And then..."

"And then?"

"I'll invite you first, Takejiro-kun." She smiled broadly.

Momota's chest ached at that smile. Saya's talent was surely going to take her far away. Away from this rural town, away from him.

Sweet and poignant, their intertwined feelings play out in these memories. The two attended the same high school.

The high school art room. At dusk, Saya reached for her mother's keepsake brush, then froze.

"What's wrong?" Momota, who was watching beside her, asked worriedly.

"Somehow... this brush feels heavy." Saya's voice trembled. "Lately, when I use this brush, my body feels cold..."

At that moment, the classroom door was flung open roughly.

"Are you going to refuse again, Tsukishiro-san?" Asano Rokuro appeared, a sickly sweet smile on his face. "Don't you understand my feelings yet?"

"I've told you... many times," Saya's voice was tired. "I have someone I like. So..."

"Who is that guy?!" Rokuro's voice rang out roughly. "There's no one who can be kinder than me!"

Momota clenched his fist tightly. Saya was being cornered in front of him. But he still couldn't raise his voice.

"Go home," Saya's voice was cold. "I can't accept your feelings. That's all."

"Is that so..." Rokuro suddenly became quiet. "Then how about this?" He suddenly snatched the brush from Saya's hand.

"Give it back!" Saya's scream echoed. "That's my mother's...!"

"Huh, is an old brush like this important?" Rokuro smirked maliciously. "Then, if you don't want it broken..."

"Stop it!" Momota's voice rang out. There was no trace of the usual timid boy. "Don't... touch Saya-chan's precious things."

"What the hell, you..." Rokuro irritably swung the brush around. "Could it be, you're Tsukishiro's crush..."

At that moment, the brush flew through the air. Saya desperately tried to catch it, but with the impact of hitting the floor, the old brush broke in two.

"Ah..." Saya's small cry echoed in the art room.

Her mother's keepsake. Precious memories. And the vessel of Momota's secretly poured-in feelings. Everything was lost in an instant.

"I-I'm sorry..." Realizing the gravity of what he had done, Rokuro frantically ran out of the classroom.

Saya knelt on the floor, cradling the broken brush in her hands. Tears streamed down her face.

"My mother's... my mother's precious..."

Momota put his arm around Saya's shoulder. He could only silently support her trembling back. The setting sun streaming through the art room window stained the scattered brush fragments on the floor red.

==========

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