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It was a fine day – the sort of day that promised that absolutely nothing would happen, and Koushi was taking advantage of it by sweeping the yard in Daichi’s shrine. It was a relaxing way to spend a morning, he found. Plus, it allowed his god to keep a pair of eyes in the human world, on the off—chance something unusual happened.
Koushi doubted anything of the sort would happen. It was growing into one of those oppressively hot summer days they had been seeing more of in recent years, and he paused a moment in his sweeping to stare up into a cloudless sky. He sighed. At the very least, his hakama were cool enough for the weather.
He turned back to his chore, but as soon as he did so something caught his eye. A young woman with short brown hair, perhaps in her early twenties, was hanging up an ema for Daichi’s attention. What had caught Koushi’s eye, though, was more concerning – a small phantom had affixed its frog-shaped self to the woman’s shoulder. An embodiment of worry and sorrow that was wearing her down. To the bone if it wasn’t taken care of.
Daichi would be back soon. All Koushi would have to do was keep her here until his return. And perhaps merely talking would be of some help. Sometimes, that was all the living needed.
“Excuse me?” he said, startling her.
She whirled around, blinking, before realising that he was probably not about to hurt her, out-of-nowhere appearance notwithstanding.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said with quick, deep bow. She probably thought him a priest. “I didn’t see you there!”
And she wouldn’t have, but that was not something she would know.
“Sorry to have surprised you,” he said. “However, you looked somewhat troubled. Are you alright?”
She gave a smile, but rubbed at the corner of her eye just the same. This close, it was clear she had been crying. “I… yes, I am. There’s just been some things going on… My cousin died recently, so things have been hectic.”
“My condolences,” Koushi replied.
Her smile became a little more natural at the sincerity of his words. “Yes, well… He died in a car crash, and that would have been bad enough but – the place where he died is apparently known for cars going off the road, but no one’s done anything about it.” Her hands tightened into fists. “We made demands of the government – nothing can bring my cousin back, but if we can prevent other people from dying needlessly, it might help a bit. But they’ve refused, stating they’ve done all they can. Clearly they haven’t, since people are still dying. So I… I came to ask my local god for help, if no one else will listen to us.”
Koushi glanced at the ema – the words she had written did seem to be something to that effect.
“Where is this road?” he asked. “Where he died?”
“It’s a stretch of road, actually. Off the Tohoku Expressway near Tokyo, one that leads deeper into the mountains. My cousin was going to Tokyo – I don’t know why he went off the expressway. But they found his car off the road and…”
Her voice broke, and Koushi hesitantly brushed a hand against her shoulder.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he said. He wasn’t sure what else he could say. He also wasn’t sure what Daichi could do about her request, since it was so far away – but surely it would possible to find someone who could.
As soon as he thought that, he heard a noise and, glancing over the young woman’s shoulder, realised that Daichi had returned. Daichi smiled at him, but held a finger to his lips. The young woman hadn’t noticed him yet, and didn’t as Daichi stepped up behind her. He raised a hand, Houki shining in the sunlight, and brought the brass knuckles down on the phantom weighing down the young woman’s shoulder.
It dissipated with a scream she didn’t hear. She might not have noticed the phantom rending apart, but her back straightened and her smile seemed a little brighter as she offered Koushi another bow.
“Thank you for listening to me,” she said. She adjusted the strap of her purse, and walked off, Koushi already fading from her mind.
He turned to Daichi instead. “Welcome back,” he said, smiling now that he wouldn’t confuse anyone for it.
“It’s good to finally be back,” Daichi said. “Mine – revert.”
Mineshi did, and Daichi took the opportunity to embrace Koushi, like they hadn’t seen each other just that morning.
Mildly embarrassed by his god and colleague, Mineshi turned away. He toyed with a lock of hair that had fallen out of his bun, eyes on the now-empty torii. “What did that woman want?”
Koushi gently pulled away from Daichi, and retold the woman’s story. By the end of it, Daichi was looking pensive.
“It does sound like something that should be taken care of immediately,” he said. “Though it’s odd that the local gods haven’t done anything about it. I’ll ask a friend of mine in Tokyo to look into it – it’s a little out of his comfort zone, but he might be able to do something.”
Koushi frowned, knowing what Daichi’s “friends” in Tokyo were like, and knowing that such a request might very well be ignored. “It’s a bit of a conundrum, isn’t it...? I haven’t heard of anything from the area from other gods.”
“That’s true,” Daichi said. “If there were someone else we could send along with, that may help.” He put a hand to his chin, thinking.
There was silence for a few moments, until Mineshi tapped Daichi’s shoulder to pull him out of his pensive state.
“I think we have another visitor,” he said.
Daichi frowned, and he and Koushi followed Mineshi’s gaze.
Standing in the afternoon shadow of the torii was a young god, dressed in a scruffy grey yukata and unaccompanied by any shinki. He looked like he’d been waiting there a while, staying out of Koushi’s sight. He hadn’t a clue how Daichi could have missed him, but apparently he had.
The god hesitated, then slinked forward. Koushi was fairly sure he had seen the god before, though he couldn’t remember the name.
“You’re Kageyama no Kami, right?” Daichi asked. From the knit in his eyebrows, though, it was clear to Koushi that he was only somewhat certain of this.
Fortunately, the god nodded and gave Daichi a curt, awkward bow.
“I need to make a request of you,” Kageyama said. He didn’t even start with a greeting, but it was clear he was making an effort to be polite.
Daichi crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “What sort of request?”
“I need a job,” Kageyama said. “Any job will do.”
Daichi blinked, then looked between his shinki, neither of whom had any advice to offer for this situation. So Daichi was left to turn back to the strange god on his own.
“I’m… not sure I have any jobs for you. Aren’t you a god of sports?”
“Yes,” Kageyama said. His replies were curt, almost to the point of rudeness. “But it doesn’t matter – if there’s a job I can do, I will do it. I don’t care where or what it is.”
Once again, Daichi found himself at a loss, but this time Koushi was able to offer some guidance.
“What about that woman who just came by?” he said. “It’s in Tokyo, so it’s too far for us, but he might be better for it.”
If it was odd to ask a god of sports to take care of a problem involving vehicular accidents, then neither Daichi nor his shinki said anything about it.
“I’ll take it,” Kageyama said, even before Daichi had a chance to look over the ema Koushi had handed him.
Daichi sighed as he looked over the prayer – the woman had signed her name with a flower, he noticed – before passing the plank to Kageyama.
“I’m not the god to answer this,” he said. “So I’ll intrust it to you. You have shinki, right?”
The more Daichi spoke with this god, the more certain he was of this Kageyama God’s identity. There were rumours among some of the other local gods, passed on by their shinki, that this god was incredibly troublesome to work with. Shinki had refused to work with him, despite the low risk job and the rumoured talent of the god. And Daichi felt he had reason to worry besides that. It was fairly unusual for a god to wander this far from his shrine unaccompanied, and it could prove troublesome for all of them if Kageyama was attacked by phantoms without a shinki. It would be troublesome for Daichi in particular if Kageyama used a stray out of need. The kid didn’t look like the sort who would, but they were better safe than sorry.
Kageyama nodded, a vague look in his eyes as he took the ema. Not the most promising thing ever, Daichi thought.
“Thank you, Daichi-kami,” he said. “I won’t fail you.”
“… Sure,” Daichi said. “Try not to get eaten by phantoms.”
It was a weak offering of luck, but Kageyama seemed to accept it. With an awkward tilt of his head he turned and left, sauntering off the sacred grounds.
“Well,” Mineshi said after a short pause. “That was kind of strange, don’t you find?”
Koushi shook his head. “A bit. But do you think he’ll be able to pull it off by himself?”
“Yes,” Daichi said, “But just in case, I’ll send a message to my friend. He probably needs to get out of the house more often, if nothing else.” He shook his head as he noticed the look of confusion Koushi and Mineshi shared. “It’ll be nothing to worry about. And if we’re lucky, the two of them will actually get something done.”
*
Kageyama did his best to hid his grin as he made his way home, clutching the ema to his chest. He had a job – finally, after days of looking for one. His previous shinki had complained of the monotony of his jobs. He had said he couldn’t help it – he was a god of sports, and those were the requests he received. Maybe he concentrated too heavily on some sports over others – that might have been what had prompted the complaints. And it wasn’t like his current shinki had complained of the few requests they had done together…
All the same, Kageyama was determined to make this work. So many of his shinki had quite on him, asking for excommunication outright in some cases, that he was willing to do anything to keep this shinki with him.
He was so tired of his shinki leaving. And, more than anything, he wanted this shinki to stay with him, although he wasn’t sure why.
He opened the door to his home in Takamagahara, expecting… well, anything that wasn’t his shinki waiting right in front of the door.
“You’re back!” Hinata said. “Did you find something for us to do?”
He was excited, but Kageyama was almost sure it wasn’t from seeing his god return home. He told himself that didn’t matter as long as they succeeded on this mission.
“Uhm, yeah,” Kageyama replied. “A senpai gave us this request, so we’re going to do as quickly as we can. And we can’t make a single mistake.”
“Of course we won’t,” Hinata said. “You’ve got me, haven’t you?”
He smiled brightly, with that love for life that characterised how his god had to wield him. Kageyama had felt it when he’d first named him, the pure vivacity and joy that made him cling to every second and demand more, even as he was lying in a hospital bed, his lungs filling with fluid as he coughed up blood. It made him as wild and blunt as his kanabou form.
Hinata had had that name for weeks now, and Kageyama still hadn’t found a way to wield him comfortably.
“Sure,” Kageyama said. “Let’s go.”
Hinata followed him back out of the house. Instead of Takamagahara, the door opened into a Near Shore forest. The location was written on the ema, so he knew where to go.
“So there’s a phantom to exterminate?” Hinata asked.
“Probably,” Kageyama said.
“Good!” Hinata chirped. “Then it’ll be easy for us!”
Kageyama nodded, but said nothing more. He appreciated the optimism even if he didn’t really share it. But what had Daichi said? There would be another god sent to help him. Which meant cooperating with some unknown person. Kageyama regretted this the more he thought about it. Perhaps he should have stuck to helping people win important volleyball matches. He was good at that, at least.
“Don’t look so worried. We’ve got this,” Hinata said.
Kageyama turned to look at him frowning. The look on his god’s face didn’t seem to dampen his mood at all, though.
“You’ve got me now! So we’ll be able to cut down any spirit that gets in our way!”
That wasn’t remotely what Kageyama was worried about. Regardless, it was time that they went underway. Without another wasted moment, Kageyama started off through the forest.
In the distance they could hear the rumbles of the expressway, muffled by trees and birdsong. It didn’t look too different from the woods in Miyagi, but here the peace was only surface level. There was an aura about the place, seeping across the land from Tokyo. The aura seemed to have consumed all trace of the local god. It didn’t surprise Kageyama that a phantom as violent as the one he was to exorcise had appeared in this location.
Kageyama scanned the woods, looking for the other go but also the phantom. It would be better if he found it first and exorcised it alone. It would save them all trouble.
Another aura flashed above them, along with a shadow as something blocked out the sun. Kageyama had his weapon’s name on his lips when a panther – a sacred beast – set itself down in front of him.
Its rider looked at Kageyama and Hinata with golden, cat-like eyes half veiled by black hair. He was wearing a black jinbaori and had a kaiken in an etched wooden scabbard at his waist. The cat, the surcoat, and the dagger were all shinki.
“… You’re the one Daichi said to help,” the god said, breaking the silence. He sounded almost disinterested. It made Kageyama’s heckles rise.
“Yes,” Kageyama said. “My name is Kageyama.”
The god gave a long, cat-like blink. “Kuroo. Nobuo. Ya’o.”
The shinki reverted to their human forms as their names were spoken, and Kageyama glanced at his own shinki, who was trying to subtly lean over his god’s shoulder to investigate the new comers, and failing utterly. Hinata was fidgeting worse than a small children, and definitely worse than Kozume’s three.
“My name is Kozume,” the other god said. “I’m a god of cats.”
“… Sports,” Kageyama offered.
The silence that fell between them was broken by one of Kozume’s shinki – Kuroo, Kageyama was pretty sure.
“Now that we’re done talking,” he said, draping an arm across his god’s shoulder. Kozume immediately shrugged him off, though Kuroo didn’t seem to notice. “Forgive my god. He tends to be awkward around new people. Should we go find that phantom we were charged with getting rid of?”
“There doesn’t seem to be anything in the immediate vicinity,” Nobuo said, scanning the woods. “And there’s a large portion of the forest we may need to search. It might be prudent to split up for this portion, and then regroup when one of us finds the phantom.”
Kozume tilted his head. “That might be best,” he said, glancing at Kageyama for confirmation.
“It’s probably for the best…” Kageyama said.
“I agree, but I think we should stay within sight of each other,” Kuroo said.
Kageyama nodded – that sounded about right.
“It would probably be easier if you left Kuroo on his own,” Ya’o muttered. “That way he could do a third of the work on his own.”
Kuroo tightened his grip on Kozume’s shoulder. “If you’re going to insist on that, then I revoke my previous statement. We’re staying together.”
Kozume rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Let’s just get started.” He pulled himself out of his shinki’s grip and started walking.
Kageyama hesitated and his own shinki did the same, and then Hinata stepped forward to walk next to Kozume.
“Hi!” he said. “My name’s Hinata. Sorry my god didn’t introduce me – he looks scary, but he’s really just nervous. So don’t mind him too much.”
Kozume blinked.
Kageyama bit his lip. This couldn’t end well. He was about to recall Hinata to make sure he didn’t accidentally trip the other god, or something equally embarrassing, but Hinata continued talking. He asked about Kozume’s job, his shrine, his shinki – any question that occurred to him, it seemed.
Kozume eyes were wide like he was suddenly caught in the headlights of a speeding car. But Kuroo was grinning and neither of Kozume’s other shinki seemed to be worried, so Kageyama supposed it was okay to leave them talking. It would probably be rude to recall Hinata at this point, wouldn’t it…?
Eavesdropping on their conversation would also help Kageyama learn more about his weapon and this new god without actually engaging them himself.
Kageyama didn’t realise he was concentrating too hard on them until Kozume abruptly stopped, and he realised he had no idea what they had been saying. Mentally, he cursed himself.
Kozume held up a hand and Hinata broke off midsentence, glancing back to Kageyama.
“Shinki, Ya’ki,” Kozume murmured. The shinki responded to his call, and he unsheathed the Ya’ki. The god hesitated a moment, thinking, before he added, “Kokki. Guard us from the other side. Warn me if there’s any danger. You don’t need to worry about me.”
Kuroo didn’t look convinced that was the safest course of action but took off on four paws into the woods, quickly lost to view.
Kozume turned back to Hinata and Kageyama. “Are you ready?”
“Yes!” Hinata said, loud enough to make Kozume flinch slightly.
“Yes,” Kageyama added, quieter. “Kouki.”
The kanabou appeared in his hand, heavy and awkward.
“Listen for my command,” Kageyama told him. “I don’t want you going off on your own attempts. Only do what I tell you.”
“This isn’t the first time I’ve worked for a god!” Hinata snapped. Irritability vibrated off him.
“And yet, you do it anyway. You need to shut up and do as you’re told for this to work.”
That got Hinata to keep silent, but Kageyama could still sense his irritability, even if he was trying to keep it in check. Kageyama reminded himself that this was for the best.
Kozume, meanwhile, was having his own troubles. Most of them were that Kuroo was grumbling to himself about their brief separation.
“It won’t be for long,” Kozume said as he walked, knowing his shinki could hear him. “And I’m not alone. So stop nagging me.”
“It’s not that!” Kuroo said. “There’s something strange around here. I can smell it.”
Kozume stopped, tilting his head to try and sense what it was that Kuroo had remarked upon. The woods were silent, in a way that showed itself more unnatural the more they listened. And the felt… empty. Daichi had said that there was a phantom that caused the living to lose control over their vehicles, slamming into the guardrail and over the edge of the cliffs. Scraps of metal and plastic littered the forest floor, bent or broken branches and saplings marking where the latest accident had occurred. The trees along the road had wide white gaps across their sides, which should have enraged the trees. But they seemed quiet, sleeping like the dead.
It was Ya’o who put into words.
“There are no gods,” he said. “Anywhere around here.”
And there hadn’t been for a while, it seemed to Kozume. He could feel this hairs along the back of his neck raising along with Kuroo’s.
“Then where did they go?” Nobuo asked. An obvious question, but one that needed to be answered.
“We’ll find out,” Kozume murmured.
“I’m coming back to you!” Kuroo said.
“No. Go inform Kageyama of this, then you can come back.”
Kuroo growled, wanting to argue what he thought was right, but did as he was told.
“… I don’t like him being too far away,” Ya’o said to Kozume. “You left everyone else at home, so your strength is limited.”
“It’s not like I can’t call them from here,” Kozume reminded him. “They’ll come if I need them. I just didn’t want to listen to their talking. Besides… are you saying the two of you won’t defend me?”
He felt Ya’o stiffen as he realised what he had implied.
“Of course not.”
“We will do our utmost to protect you,” Nobuo said. His sense of calm and stability made his coat form hold a little tighter to Kozume. “But what Morio said is right – I think we’re going to need Kuroo’s help for this. I’d prefer it if he was close by.”
Kozume frowned. He understood his shinki’s concerns, but it was almost like they forgot he was a god at times. “He’ll be back soon enough. It the meantime, let’s see if we can’t find the center of this storm.”
Or the shrine of whomever it was who was supposed to be here. Whichever came first.
There was a patch of land up ahead that showed the worst of the scars from the car accidents. Bits of police tap still hung from the branches of the nearby trees like tanabata wishes. Standing at the edge of the road, Kozume could see all of the valley below, and Tokyo off in the distance. The city had always been close, but now it was visible and growing ever closer. To the other side of the valley was the small village had stood there for centuries, with all the shrines and gods and spirits necessary for everyday life. Except now there was no one except himself and Kageyama.
A branch cracked and broke, and Kozume just barely raised the Ya’ki in a block as the phantom threw itself on him.
*
If Kageyama had thought he would be able to keep this partnership with Hinata going smoothly, then he was beginning to realise that he had been entirely incorrect. The shinki was doing nothing but irritating him. He wasn’t even sure how Hinata had managed to befriend Kozume so quickly – or at least, managed to considered himself Kozume’s friend – but whatever he had done, it wasn’t working on Kageyama quite so well.
The area seemed unusually barren, with only small, rodent-like phantoms scurrying about. These were easily dispatched on the Kouki’s spikes. Still, each blow hit blindly and vibrated through the kanabou’s wood like it might eventually break. Annoying, but at least it was something he could work with – the power and potential grace made up for that. He just regretted that it came with such a loudmouth personality.
He lashed out with the kanabou, the small metal spikes cutting easily through the multi-coloured rats. They disappeared, their passing briefly marking the world in red.
There was nothing left to exorcise here. Kageyama looked back up the cliff, searching for Kozume. Before he could find the other god – even though his white hakama should have made him more visible – Kozume’s panther leapt out from the tops of trees.
The panther looked him and the Kouki over with a smug expression on his face, then pinned his ears back.
Kageyama tilted his head.
“Does Kozume want us to return?”
He got a nod in return, then Kuroo froze. The fur along his back rose up, and he lashed his tail. Kageyama heard something then.
Kuroo turned and ran, back towards Kozume.
Kageyama ran to follow. The Kouki was getting heavy in his hand, and Kageyama nearly tripped as his sandal caught on the undergrowth, unbalanced by the kanabou.
“Why are you so heavy?” he snapped.
“Well it’s not my fault!” Hinata replied.
“Just don’t trip me up when we get to the actual battle.”
“I haven’t done so yet! Try working with me for once!”
There was a shiver across their connection, the sort that might become a sting if Kageyama let his shinki continue on as they had been. He would discipline Hinata as necessary when this was done.
There was a crash up ahead, and then an angry roar as the world seemed to go dark. Kozume had found the phantom – or rather, the phantom had found him.
It was like nothing Kageyama had ever seen. The phantom had the form of a giant bird with three legs, eyes buried into its feathers and scales, white but immaterial. It was massive, and when it opened its beak it revealed even more eyes. It screamed like a wounded animal.
Kozume stumbled out of the woods, clutching at his shoulder. His kimono was dark with blood, and the sleeve of his jinbaori had been cut. The phantom slashed forward, just barely missing the god as Kuroo slammed it aside. It fell away in a flurry of feathers and screamed something that could have been words.
“What are you waiting for?” Hinata yelled. “It’s going to get him!”
“I know!”
Kageyama slammed the Kouki into the demon. The feathers splintered like cedar wood for just as long enough for the nails to latch onto the phantom, then reformed. The recoil nearly sent Kageyama flying.
“I thought you said we had this this!” he snapped.
Kuroo roared as he went for the phantom’s throat. It batted him away with a leg it extended beyond what should have been, sending him crashing into a tree. Kageyama glanced behind him, seeing Kozume pull himself behind a tree, readjusting his grip on the Ya’ki and trying to catch his breath. Kageyama knew he had to do something, and bit his lip, thinking.
“Move!” Hinata yelled.
Kageyama didn’t like taking orders from him, but he didn’t have any better ideas. He raced forward.
*
Kozume hunched down, clenching his teeth in pain.
“You have to let go,” Ya’o said. “You can’t keep fighting like this!”
“I can,” Kozume said, adjusting his grip on Ya’ki for what felt like the eight time in five minutes. His hand kept slipping from the blood. “Nobuo, are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” he said. His shoulder was cut along the same place as Kozume’s and his face was even paler than usual. “But Ya’o is right. Recall Kuroo and keep him close. We need him to defend as well.”
“I’m fine,” Kozume said. He was cut off as the bird-phantom was sent careening down the cliff past him.
Leaves were tossed about but the trees were mostly unaffected by its batting wings. It screamed again as Kageyama bashed its wings.
“Why won’t this thing die?” Kozume said. He stumbled forward, trying to catch up.
“There’s something wrong with it,” Kuroo answered, racing up to his god.
As they had done so many times before, Kozume grabbed onto his fur and swung his legs over his back. Momentarily relieved from the pain of moving – both his and Nobuo’s – Kozume leaned into Kuroo’s neck and let him run.
“I think it has something to do with why there are no gods here.” Kuroo was breathing hard. “We should pull back – you can’t keep fighting.”
“Told you,” Ya’o muttered.
Kozume hesitated. Certainly he could try to pull back and regroup, maybe find some other gods to pitch in – this was proving more of a challenge than either he or Kageyama was prepared for. But could he do it before Kageyama and Hinata were torn to shreds?
In the distance, a glimmer caught his eye, and his heart fell. In the distance, along the river bed, stood the untainted spirit of a human, one who had until now stayed out of view and safe from the phantom.
The phantom must have seen the same thing, because it abandoned its fight with Kageyama and Hinata and focused on its new prey.
“We can’t leave,” Kozume said. “It will destroy that spirit.”
“We can’t risk -!” Kuroo started to say.
“Kokki!” Kozume snapped. Instantly, Kuroo froze, the admonition dying before he could voice it. “Take me to that spirit, now!”
He stuck the Ya’ki into his sheath, and clung to his beast’s fur as Kuroo leapt into the sky, taking them halfway to the ghost in a single bound. Kageyama was still distracting the phantom, and Kuroo took the last leap. There was only one way to rescue the spirit now, and Kozume had to take it.
Kozume could barely see the spirit they were moving so fast, but he had seen that it was untainted. He caught a flash of ashen grey hair, and his fingers flashed to write out a name as he
“You with nowhere to go and nowhere to return - I grant you a place to belong. My name is Kozume – bearing a posthumous name, you shall remain here! With this name, I make you my servant. Your name is its reading, your vessel its sound. As a person – Hai. As a shinki – Ke. Come, Keki!”
His tongue nearly tied up at the familiar spell-prayer. A bright light burst out, and the phantom screeched. It lunged, its beak slamming into the dried riverbed where the spirit had been moments before. Kozume’s hand closed around the handle of the whip as Kuroo lurched forward, pulling them out of the phantom’s range.
The world around Kozume dimmed as memories replaced it. The first thing he knew was that spirit was not entirely from the Land of the Rising Sun. Another family line connected it to somewhere else, an oak tree that supported the world – a land with different ancestors, different gods. Different rules. And that fact had dictated the man’s life. The isolation, the hesitant acceptance – and then true acceptance, as the Meiji emperor died, and Taisho took the throne, and foreigners become grudgingly accepted. Living a life filled with love that brought with it its own problems, but both of them had worked as hard as they could to make it work. And glimpses of the other man’s face.
A strange feeling arose in Kozume as he realised that this was not the first time he’d seen some of these memories. They had been too far away for Kozume to see his new shinki’s face when he’d named him, but Kozume was now realising that he knew it. He knew it because he had seen it in Ya’o’s memories, when he had given him his name, sealing the memories of that life and this love. Kozume had forgotten, casting that memory aside as he had almost all of his shinki’s. He had never needed any of them until now.
He knew what was coming next, and watched from his Haio’s point of view as his love was burned alive as fire consumed Tokyo. Aftershocks hit. Kozume’s head swam as he tried to make sense of three sets of memories – his shinki’s and his own, all of them different. His own were the least painful. But it wasn’t over, because Haio’s memories continued. Just barely, but they did, and Kozume watched as those who had survived the quake turned on their neighbours. Their poisoned minds had made them reach for stones and weapons, which they had unleashed on foreigners. And Haio’s status among them had been marginal already. The earth had shaken what little he had until it collapsed.
“Kozume!” Kuroo roared, and the god realised it was the second time his name had been spoken.
“I’m alright,” Kozume replied. He couldn’t offer anything more, to any of them. He could feel Nobuo’s worry, kept calm – he trusted his god without question. Ya’o was practical burning with concern, and for briefest moment Kozume wanted to tell him what he had seen, the identity of the whip whose hilt weighed down his hand.
But of course, he said nothing.
“Turn us back around, Kuroo,” Kozume ordered. “We’re going to help Kageyama. Keki, are you ready?”
“Yes!” he called back. At least he was enthusiastic about the situation.
Kageyama and his shinki had managed to keep the demon at bay. Its wings were beginning to break under Hinata’s constant blows. Kozume lashed out with the Keki, and it smashed right through the wing, severing it entirely. It also opened a massive crater in ground, but that could be dealt with later.
He cracked the whip again, and this time the phantom’s screams sent shudders down the length of the shinki. Kozume pulled the Keki back as the phantom aimed to snap him in its beak.
Kozume’s head was still fuzzy, like he was seeing the world through falling ash. He wanted to curse. Instead, he tightened his grip on the Keki and quietly told his shinki, “Be ready.”
*
Kageyama’s breathing was ragged. Even though he was a god, this phantom was running him to the edge of his ability, and this wasn’t something Kageyama was built for. Hinata knew this. What he hadn’t realised until now was his god’s lack of ability to trust him. He was holding back with each blow, even if he didn’t realise it. He was trying to reign Hinata in, and refused any help when it could have bettered their situation. Hinata wanted to scream in frustration – and he knew that was only making things worse for his god. But this must have been why so many other shinki had grown too frustrated with Kageyama to continue.
He didn’t know that Kageyama was trying to make the connection he knew his partner wanted, but felt a too-familiar jab of anxiety and fear every time he did. Kageyama had offered trust in his own, clumsy way, and was rejected too many times to make it too gently this time. And now there were patches of corruption blossoming on his skin.
Kozume had managed to finally land a proper blow against the phantom with some weapon that Hinata hadn’t even realised he had on him. It would only take a couple more hits to finally defeat the thing. But something was wrong with the other god – his movements muddled, and his shinki holding back, fearing for their master.
Kageyama stopped, holding the Kouki up in a guard.
“… Hey, Kageyama,” Hinata said.
“What?”
Hinata thought a moment. He didn’t know what he had been going to say, so he said the first thing to come to mind. “It’s going to be alright. You’ve got me with you, after all. And we’re going to make the best team in the world. We’ve just got to trust each other.”
Was that a smile on Kageyama’s face? It certainly seemed like it.
He adjusted his grip so he was holding the Kouki with two hands. He looked up at the phantom, daring it to make a move.
It turned all its eyes onto him, and lashed out. Kageyama brought the Kouki up to block it, succeeded. He didn’t see the blow from the third leg, but Hinata did.
In those few moments, Hinata knew two things. The first was that didn't want to leave Kageyama. Somehow, he knew beyond a shadow of doubt that Kageyama would be in a bad situation if Hinata wasn't there. Worse than when Hinata had found him, which had already been pretty terrible. And he – he just didn’t want to leave him. He hadn’t been lying when he said they would make the best team ever if they got the chance.
But he also knew that if Kageyama survived, he would have the chance to rebuild. Make new choices, and meet new people. Maybe even make that partnership with someone else.
In the end, Kageyama was a god, and Hinata was his shinki. That’s all it came down to. Put it like that, there wasn’t much of choice. Kageyama still had the chance to continue to grow and change and become an even greater god, whereas Hinata would never change because he was already dead.
Of course, he didn't rationalise it that far. All he thought was; please don't let him die.
He moved his weapon form of his own accord, catching the phantom’s blow. He felt his wood buckle, then snap. Then shatter.
*
Kozume didn’t see any of this happen – he just knew that the phantom was distracted. He struck out with the Keki, and the phantom rent apart.
He sighed into the fur of Kuroo’s neck, hugging both the Keki and the Eki to his chest. Then, breath recovered, he turned back to Kageyama.
His eyes caught on the glowing shards of the Houki and he felt his stomach drop. Kuroo brought them closer.
Kageyama’s eyes seemed unfocused, having barely noticed that the phantom was gone. But not in pain – at least, not the pain Kozume would have expected from a shinki dying.
Kageyama tilted his head. “Hi…nata?” he whispered. Then he called, like he had realised something, “Kouki!”
The shards pulled themselves together at the sound of their name, reforming in his hand. But the form was different – the wood shaft replaced by iron. A minor change, but one that both gods recognized for what it was.
The metal kanabou didn’t seem to lay as heavy in his hands as the wooden one had.
“Hinata,” Kageyama said, reverting his form back.
Hinata landed on his feet, looking only slightly confused, and wearing the only frown Kozume had seen him with. But then Kozume’s view was obstructed as Kageyama pulled his shinki into a hug, burying his face into Hinata’s shoulder and his hand into his hair.
This only seemed to confuse Hinata even more, but he returned the hug. He patted his god’s back awkwardly.
“Thank you,” Kageyama mumbled. He sounded like he was close to crying.
Kozume looked away and asked his shinki to revert. Ya’o caught Nobuo before he could stumble, holding him gingerly because of the still-bleeding wound in his shoulder, and helped him to a seat by a tree as they waited for their god. Kuroo was too busy looking Kozume over for the extent of his own injuries to notice his comrades. Kozume pushed him gently aside and looked over his newest shinki.
He had already known what to expect, but still found himself slightly surprised – and pre-emptively annoyed. Haio was shifting from foot to foot like he couldn’t sit still, trying to keep the smile from his face. His ashen hair seemed scruffier than was acceptable – actually, he generally looked like he needed a bath, nicer clothes, and someone to even his hair out. Whichever god had picked him up and tossed him aside previously had not kept him in the best condition. And whoever it was, they had apparently just tossed him out without warning. At least, Haio didn’t seem to know what that had been about, only that it had happened. Some gods were just like that, it seemed.
At least his appearance could be dealt with. What Kozume was less looking forward too was having to rectify whatever behaviour problems he’d ended up with. Kozume narrowed his eyes, realising that he always wound up bringing home abandoned creatures with problems like that.
Haio cocked his head at Kageyama and Hinata. Even before his mouth opened, Kozume was absolutely sure that he was going to say something stupid. He wasn’t disappointed.
“So are you two going to notice us or are you just going to start kissing?” Haio asked them.
Kageyama and Hinata sprang apart. Kageyama turned bright red. Hinata faired a bit better, though he didn’t let go of his god’s hand. It could have been cute, so long as Kuroo didn’t get any ideas.
Kageyama mumbled something that was completely unintelligible on account of his brain short-circuiting.
Ya’o walked over to Haio and kicked him in the shin, hard.
“Stop annoying them, newbie,” he said, and grabbed Haio’s arm to drag him back towards Kozume.
His hold lingered, and Kozume turned away. The – there was no other word for it – awe of seeing a shinki become a hafuri, and the relief of knowing that Hinata was alright, sifted back down. He couldn’t get the taste of ash and blood out of his mouth now.
Kuroo brushed a hand against his uninjured shoulder.
“We should get going now,” he said. “If there’s nothing else to do here.”
Kozume made a soft noise, vaguely agreeing.
“You’re going?” Hinata asked. He sounded genuinely disappointed.
“Uhm, yeah,” Kozume replied.
“But we’ll see each other again, right?”
This kid seemed genuinely worried about it, despite that he was still clinging to his god’s hand. Kozume gave him a small smile.
“Yeah, I guess,” he replied.
He could feel his shinki’s sudden happiness – mostly Kuroo and Nobuo’s – and was mildly annoyed they were still worrying about him not having friends.
“Whatever,” he muttered, and recalled them.
Kageyama did the same, hefting the Kouki over his shoulders. He was holding it awkwardly, the spikes longer than they had been. Or maybe Kageyama’s awkwardness came from something else. If he thought about much longer, Kozume would start feeling awkward himself.
“Be seeing you,” Kozume said. He hastened to leave, knowing very well that upon getting home they would have a lot of explaining to do. He’d leave most of it to Kuroo. His guide was incredibly capable, which of course also meant that he was perfectly capable of forcing Kozume into being social. It was a terrible fate sometimes.
But maybe only sometimes.
*
The awkwardness continued until they were back in Kageyama’s house in Takamagahara. It was almost palpable. At least, it was to Hinata. He didn’t know what his god was feeling, given that Kageyama was avoiding his eyes, turning entirely away so Hinata couldn’t see him. He seemed to be quite intent on trying to set fire to a tree outside with his eyes.
The house rang silent. Given that gods built their own homes in the heavens, it was curious that Kageyama would build his so big. He certainly didn’t seem like the sort who had ever expected to have a large retinue to deal with.
“Is there something wrong?” Hinata asked. “You’re completely avoiding me. Hey!”
He grabbed Kageyama’s shoulder and whirled him around. Then he realised that his god was blushing, from the roots of his hair and down his neck. He let go of Kageyama’s shoulder, pulling his hand back.
“What..?” Hinata asked. “What’re you-?“ He could feel his own cheeks turning red in response.
“I… Do you know what you did, out there?” Kageyama asked, finding his voice.
Hinata tilted his head. “What, you mean fighting that phantom? Well, I kicked its butt a lot and then saved yours.”
Kageyama shook his head.
“It wasn’t just that,” he said, like it hurt him to say. “You… became a hafuri. You risked your own name, for me.”
Hinata thought it over for a moment. “Yes, I guess I did, didn’t I? I’ve never really heard about the whole hafuri thing, beyond that it’s supposed to be really cool.”
“Yeah,” Kageyama said. “I’m just… thankful. For you. You risked your name for me, and… I’m sorry. That I’ve been such a bad partner.”
The words seemed to be painful to say, but Hinata was beginning to realise that it was because of Kageyama’s excruciating shyness. Kageyama fidgeted a moment and then hesitantly reached out to take his shinki’s hand.
He was warm – warmer than any of Hinata’s previous gods had been. Then again, none of his previous gods had ever taken his hand when he was not in weapon form.
He held Kageyama’s hand back, and then leaned in and gently kissed his god’s forehead. He grinned as he pulled back, before realising that his god had turned entirely red.
“Should – should I not have?” he asked, suddenly worried that he had transgressed somehow.
Kageyama said nothing, but pulled Hinata in close and buried his face into his shoulder. And Hinata relaxed and held him in return. He had risked his life for his god in an instantaneous decision. Maybe he would have regretted it had it been anyone else, but just then he was assured.
He hugged Kageyama to him, and couldn’t help but smile. He had absolutely made the right choice.
*
For his part, Kozume had been completely exhausted by the day’s events. He set Haio on the rest of his shinki, leaving him to Ya’o’s capable hands and Inuo’s slightly less capable ones. Fukuo had dragged Nobuo off to heal before his shoulder could worsen, and Kozume left them to that as well. He was determined to take the next long while off from anything rigorous, and was quite looking forward to his usual request of rescuing cats and helping with video games.
As a couple of days passed and, when he was sure he had done enough work that his shinki and parishioners might leave him alone, he took his chance. He escaped to the back of his home, where he basked in the afternoon’s golden light and played a video game on his handheld consol. Kuroo came to join him after a while, reverting on command to his panther form. Kozume used him as a pillow while his shinki dozed. It was a comfortable arrangement for the both of them.
His shinki quieted down as sundown drew nearer. Kozume was busy with his game, and didn’t pay much attention as his shinki came and went. Neither did he notice if they came to sit out on the veranda, so when he looked up, he was slightly startled to see Haio and Ya’o on the veranda across from them. They had become very close, very quickly, and now they were curled up next to each other, napping. Haio’s long legs were left partially bare by the kimono he had been lent, and the sleeves were too short as well. Kozume would have to find a longer one somewhere. Kuroo and Inuo were tall, but this kid was ridiculous. It must have been the foreign in him.
He tipped the screen towards his chest, taking it out of view. Part of him wondered if the Heavens would even allow him to keep a spirit that was not fully Japanese. Plenty of foreigners – and halfers – died in the land of the rising sun, and yet he had never heard of one being kept by a god as a shinki. Or maybe it was something never spoken of, like those gods who never returned from foreign lands. Either way, Kozume wasn’t going to say anything. If the Heavens came asking, then he’d have to face a choice. He would probably chose his shinki, as it stood. They were noisy and could be irritating, but the Heavens were so many times worse.
He didn’t know what he would say, if they did come for Haio. Maybe he could lie, but it would be obvious that was what he was doing. After all, he’d seen Haio’s memories, and it had been evident. Kozume refused to dwell on it. It might lead to… problems. Ones he wanted to avoid for as long as he could. Forever, if that was possible.
He wasn’t completely sure it was.
He leaned back into Kuroo, playing with the fur on one of his great paws, thinking. He couldn’t help it. That forgotten name… why was it so dangerous? Why was it, when shinki learned of their human lives and living names that they lost control? Was it because there was something inherently impure in their humanity? That was definitely what the Heavens would say was true. Then what gave rise to the gods’ inherent purity? What made destruction caused by gods righteous and that of man crimes, no matter what the circumstance?
Or maybe it wasn’t a question of purity at all. Maybe, once they remembered how they had lived and died, the desire for the life they had lost overwhelmed them. After all, the names their gods gave them were gifts, with their own meaning and qualities, a sign of the bond between them. The names they had been given in life worked much the same, probably. Then those names would be signs of relationships lost, and maybe trying to regain those relationships was what caused the corruption.
There was a rustle of fabric, and Kozume’s attention was called back to Haio and Ya’o. Ya’o had shifted in his half-sleep, wrapping an arm around Haio’s chest and holding him close. Kozume could only see Haio’s face, but the shinki looked content even as he slept. It was like they’d never been apart. And they hadn’t needed their memories for it at all. Kozume knew how they felt, because of the bond and not – and knew that they didn’t think they were doing anything wrong. They weren’t, of course, because Kozume couldn’t really care less, but it was curious all the same. Perhaps some bonds could be reforged, even without memories. The thought made him smile as he turned back into Kuroo’s fur.
A sword and a whip made strange company together, or so it seemed. It made Kozume wonder – what was it, really, that determined a shinki’s form? He knew that shinki who took on new or foreign forms – anything that didn’t currently exist in the mundane world – were said to be compatible with their master, but why was that? Was it the god who determined a shinki’s form, or the ghost of the person they once were? The ghost could affect it, clearly – this was the case with hafuri. And he had never had a shinki take on a form so ill-suited that it could not be used. Was that even possible? Could a shinki take on a form completely unsuitable for their god? Or, if the opposite was true, could a god ever give a shinki a form that was contradictory to the nature of the soul that formed it? Which side determined the link?
And he was back to the question of human names and human lives. He gave a soft groan, not wanting to think about it or anything else anymore. It was too troublesome, and he didn’t want to know where it may lead.
Kuroo lifted his head, his whiskers brushing Kozume’s arm.
“You alright?” he asked. Kozume could feel his concern, his love for him – their connection was as strong and solid as their touch.
“I’m fine,” Kozume said.
He curled up into Kuroo’s side, pressing his head against his neck fur. Kuroo flicked his tail over Kozume’s feet, shifting to encircle him fully. He did not want to let his god go at all in this moment, and for once Kozume was fine with that.