At Mita House's

Then, I saw it. Diagonally to the right, behind the woman with the bottomless evangelical smile, stood another woman.

Did they plan to use two people to recruit me? Were they tipping the balance of power, two against one? How cowardly!

Then, further realization dawned. I noticed just how young the other religious recruiter was.

For some odd reason, even on this serene April morning when the sun shone so gently, she shaded herself with a pure white parasol. Although I couldn't see her face, which was hidden by the parasol, I could tell nevertheless that she was young, particularly compared to the middle-aged woman. In fact, it was obvious that she was even younger than me.

Holding her parasol, draped in a plain, light-colored, long-sleeved dress, she gave off a sanctified, pure air. As if guarding the older woman, she stood calmly, clean and quiet.

Without my even realizing it, tears had sprung to my eyes, unbidden. This young girl, no older than seventeen or eighteen by my estimate, was being taken advantage of by some idiotic cult. Just thinking about it, I couldn't help but feel compassion. I mean, come on, what is this?!

I was sure she was at that age when she would much rather be having fun. The age at which she'd rather put on some nice clothes, walk around Shibuya, and try to have impure, heterosexual relations, instead. But religions have strict commandments, such as “Thou shalt not commit adultery.” She had to be suffering. It must be painful, painful, painful.

I imagined her not knowing how to deal with her feverish body each night. God is watching, so we can't do something like this. But… but I… I can't suppress my excited emotions. Ooh, why am I such a naughty girl? And even though God is watching… I confess, Heavenly Father!”

Those sorts of things, where commandments and sexual desire merged into one, constantly had to agonize her. Because the erotic book about nunneries I had read recently mentioned such issues, my reasoning had to be correct.