Inari continues to giggle at the expression on little Nara-kun's face. The stillness of his mind. Like a river pushing against a blockage of foliage. The water will get through soon enough, but it'll struggle.
And she finds that hilarious.
It's not like she ever planned to be harsh on the human that has so caught Amaterasu's attention, but still. She figured she should greet him properly. Let him fully and truly understand what it means to stand in the presence of a God. Not just that little pressure he would have felt at Tenjin's apotheosis.
Inari is the most powerful Shinto God. Tenjin, like near all others in the universe, is little more than an ant compared to her.
She can literally count the number of beings she isn't confident she could best in combat on two hands.
Besides, Inari can admit to having been curious.
Narauko is an exceptional entity after all. A true anomaly and very interesting beside.
So she was curious how he would fare against her presence. She obviously didn't exert the full pressure, or even a fraction of it really, upon him. But she did allow her Self to flow freely, just without much weight to it. She was already presenting herself properly for the Principle Clans anyway.
It's a different kind of strength to stand against.
For pressure, one would only need to be sufficiently strong. But to withstand her presence, one needs a different kind of strength. One of character. Of will. Of Soul.
One needs eyes that can see more than just what they see.
To tell the truth, Inari had fully expected that he would wind up on his knees. Perhaps further and to have fallen on his face. She had already planned what she'd have said then. A light bit of mocking, blunted by playfulness. Enough to remind him of their difference without discouraging.
Most would have simply perished, their meagre existences too thin to do anything but be swallowed up by her own weight on reality. Like an infinitesimally tiny drop of red paint into an ocean of blue. The red would just wind up becoming blue in the end.
But he didn't die. Didn't fall. Didn't even kneel.
He stood.
Isn't that impressive? Isn't it hilarious?
She's impressed. Isn't that even more impressive? More hilarious?
When was the last time a mortal impressed her? Really impressed her? Hachiman? Suiko, perhaps?
It's not like she meant to hurt him anyway. It's more like blowing air into a housecat's ear. You know it'll only serve to annoy the cat, but you do it anyway. Not because you want it to suffer, but because you adore the creature and find its reaction cute.
Inari is certainly enjoying the reaction.
Both to witnessing the Divine and perhaps even more, his reaction to her breaking of the illusion.
Watching his mind struggle to connect her Divinity to her much more casual character is incredibly amusing. Not unexpected though. She only started acting this way about a millennia and a half ago. Before then, she acted exactly as a God should, Divine. If he'd have met her then, he likely would not have lived.
Gosh she used to be so uptight~.
Living like a fox is certainly more enjoyable than living like a God. Someday she will convince Tsukuyomi to embrace the mortal perspective a little. Strange little things they may be, but mortals certainly know how to make life enjoyable.
She supposes it's because they all die so quickly, so they learned to make the most of their time. Or maybe it's just something about being so disconnected from the universe? Inari doesn't know. She just knows that a mortal's perspective is always more entertaining.
"I— ..Sorry, what?" Inari's expression is curved with delight as Narauko fumbles his words, finally having processed enough to speak again. "I am.. confused?"
Inari titters, but decides to show some mercy.
"You kept such confidence in yourself, even after witnessing the birth of Tenjin-Ōkami~. So I decided that you were due an education in what it means to stand before the Divine. But I stopped acting like that in truth ages ago~, so if it's you, then there is no need for formalities here~."
Narauko blinks, slowly. Mouth parted slightly as if wanting to speak but having no words spring forth.
"Uhh.. That doesn't seem right?"
Withholding a smirk, Inari shows an exaggerated pout before speaking again with a voice half in whine.
"Re~eally? So you may sing so confidently, but talking is too much~?"
She lets her smirk show now, as her words provoke exactly the reaction that she expected them to exactly as quickly as she expected that they would.
Narauko's hesitance and doubt is immediately drowned out by a flush of raw embarrassment, and Inari can see the change happen within him. The very moment that his absurdly wired brain stops trying to conform to preconceptions and simply returns to its natural flow.
Though to call anything about the flow of his thoughts natural would be a disservice.
"Wha—! Why do you know about that!?" He all but yells the question at her like it is an accusation. A tone starkly different to before and far from anything that any mortal would use with her. Especially after knowing her as he now has.
It's truly hilarious. She doubts that there is a single mortal, living or dead, that could treat her no different to any mortal woman than him and his other half. Not after knowing her. Because there is a significant difference between knowing of her and knowing her. It is an understanding that cannot be ignored. At least in usual circumstance anyway.
"You sing to Amaterasu-Ōmikami." Her reply is droll and toneless. A lip twitched in amusement and a brow raised, as if she is explaining the most basic of concepts to a child. Which, she supposes she is, depending on how one thinks about it. "Was that supposed to be private?"
"I didn't think anyone was listening!" Narauko slaps his hands over his face, though his grin remains visible either way. It's so strange how he manages to enjoy even his own suffering. Then again, it would be stranger still if he did not. A defiance of his very nature.
Still, Inari can't help but laugh at that. She wonders at how a human able to see so much can be so blind in such random areas.
He was singing to Amaterasu. That means projecting his voice straight into the sky. It's about the least subtle he could have been. A giant beacon for anyone who cared to listen. Though, she supposes it's somewhat understandable for a mortal to fail to understand just how loud they can be when the noise is not sound.
"Oh yes," Inari keeps her tone agreeable, playful. "You've become quite popular among certain kami and Ōkami alike. The charm of music sung in a tongue that does not exist is rather quite enchanting~."
"Eh? Wait—"
"Yes, I know." Inari watches his mouth snap shut with a deep smile. She notes the curious expression on his face, as if he is more interested in her thoughts on the matter than concerned of her knowledge of it. Hilarious.
Inari raises an imperious brow in response to the previous shock.
"I am the most powerful among all beings Shinto, you know? I cannot see everything, because even for me it is no simple feat to peer through the Wheel, but I can observe enough. Besides, you do sing in whatever language that is. I'd have to be a grand fool to not notice anything odd about that."
"Ah. Uh, yeah, I guess. It's called English, pretty sure it roots from Latin. Or like, Germanic?" Narauko pauses, pensive, while she herself just finds amusement in how easily he defaults to answering unasked questions. Really, he's so sweet. No wonder Amaterasu is so charmed~. "I'm not breaking any rules by existing, right?"
Inari's immediate thought is how foolish a question that is. She has to remind herself that she is speaking with a mortal, to whom such things are not quite so clear.
"What rules would they be, exactly?" She asks with a brow raised.
"Uh.. Like, reincarnation? Aren't you supposed to be wiped clean or something? I don't think I had a lot of karma, so shouldn't I be like, a termite, or something?"
"That is a process, Narauko-kun~. Not a Law. The Wheel of Samsara functions as it does." Inari pauses her blithe explanation and lets out a soft sigh as she realises she will have to explain more thoroughly if he wants to actually understand.
She wouldn't have bothered if not for how smitten he is with Amaterasu.
Alas, he is smitten, and Amaterasu is dealing with enough stress these days from that damn bastard God and his stupid puppets and dolls. Narauko's existence has been good for her. Lets her relax a little. Inari considers it good timing that he would show up in this century where Amaterasu would most need a positive distraction.
So even though she finds it a pain, Inari explains.
"Mortal Souls belong to whatever Pantheon birthed them. However, a mortal that has no faith, that does not worship or even believe in their Pantheon's afterlife, becomes something akin to a 'free spirit,' I suppose. The Wheel of Samsara is, in terms you understand, effectively the universe's 'recycling plant'. Any Soul that has no afterlife with claim over them will instead fall into Samsara and be born anew. Samsara does purify the Souls it touches as you know, but that is simply how it functions. If a Soul manages to escape Samsara intact, there is no punishment. Those Souls are not prisoners in the first place, they just have nowhere else to go. If one has the will to leave, then they are free to do so. Though, being reduced to nothing by the Gap is hardly an improvement."
It's one thing to escape Samsara after all, and an entirely different thing to get anywhere from there. Most likely, any of the vanishingly few Souls with enough will to escape Samsara will just die in the Gap.
Unless, of course, a bridge is built for them to safely walk into a new life.
There's a lot more to it all of course. Comparing Samsara to a recycling plant—not that she really knows what those words mean beyond a general feeling—is entirely insufficient. But frankly, Inari has no idea how to explain the base mechanics of reality in a way that a mortal brain could both understand and comprehend.
"Huh." Narauko doesn't speak for a moment, simply absorbing the information, and it is oh so clear how ecstatic he is to be learning of such things. "So I was just being stupid thinking I was a cosmic mistake that might get corrected, then? You're sure the Wheel of Samsara isn't mad at me?"
It still manages to catch her amusement how he now speaks so casually to her. The adjustment to her attitude was rather rapid all things considered. There is not a single part of him that is pausing to consider how she could erase him should any of his words provoke even the most minor of insult.
Inari realises that she had better keep him and Tsukuyomi from meeting. The moon is hardly as strong as she is, but he's still strong enough to kill little Narauko-kun while being far less willing to ignore any lacking courtesies.
"You should be able to answer that yourself," she says instead. Smirking down at him, even if he is still standing as she sits. "You felt it yourself, did you not? Peering inside of a Domain is no simple feat, but your second death was noticed. Surely you felt it then? A goodbye? I believe Samsara is happy for you, for you are no lost Soul anymore. I believe that that is what Samsara wants more than anything, if such a being is even capable of experiencing want in the first place. For those lost Souls that fall into its arms to find hearth and home and never need see it again."
Samsara isn't really a God like she is. It is a fundamental function of the universe. Inari would give it a position of equivalence to the Gap itself.
So she does not know if it is capable of desire or thought. All she does know, is that on each of the very rare occasions where she has been able to observe a Soul escaping Samsara, it has always felt to her as if Samsara is pushing them forward, helping them leave. Joyful that they may have found a home.
Call it a hunch.
Inari's full attention returns to the mortal before her, and she smiles. Not smirking or mocking, but an actual, real smile. Because there are times where the words you speak matter and those are not times for false faces.
So Inari shows Narauko a true smile. One that is meaningful. That is solemn. That is welcoming and final.
"You are Shinto now, Narauko."
He doesn't respond quickly to that. At first, his mouth opens to speak but then the words really seem to register and he catches himself.
Inari can see him understand it.
Powerful though she is, Inari cannot see everything. That's why she has kami like Kuebiko to help her out. But she can still see a lot.
She can see his Soul. See the history there, if in images and impressions and little of his first life, because looking through Samsara is near impossible to do in detail.
But she can see enough.
A life lived without joy. Without meaning or purpose or much of anything.
A Soul that fell into Samsara simply because it couldn't fathom belonging anywhere at all.
Perhaps that is why when Narauko smiles now, eyes shining with unshed wetness, that it feels so significant to see his joy at having a home.
"Yeah.. I guess I am."
Inari can admit, at least to herself, that she can maybe perhaps see how this mortal human has so enthralled Amaterasu's attention.
He smiles so purely, it hardly looks human at all.
Inari almost snorts at the thought. She shouldn't be surprised, really. Not with how he came to escape Samsara in the first place.
She still is, though. Because even if it isn't unexpected, he really does smile so purely.
"So tell me, why does a man serenade a Goddess if he doesn't expect anyone to hear him?" The change in conversation is pretty obvious, but the previous talk had ran its course anyway. Inari would rather see his embarrassed face than his inhuman one.
Maybe if he ever stops pretending to be as Human as everyone else she will find that face more fitting.
Narauko hears her words and he pouts. He turns his eyes to the side, avoiding meeting her own as he responds like a child admitting to breaking a vase after previously denying it.
"I'unno. It's like– ...Amaterasu makes everything brighter. Prettier. Obvious, I guess, I don't– I don't know how to put it. I love this world, this life. But when Amaterasu is present, I feel like I can love it all even more, y'know? So I think Amaterasu deserves to be praised. Even if she doesn't hear it. Even if she doesn't respond or just doesn't care. Even if I'm the only one that ever hears the words, Amaterasu deserves to be praised anyway."
He pauses only long enough to shrug.
"I saw her and I thought of love and so I sang of love and I sang it to her. That is all."
...He really doesn't even have to try to be charming, does he? There's just.. so much to unpack there.
First of all, 'praise'? Inari has seen and heard plenty of people sending prayers to Amaterasu, but praise? Who in Yomi praises a God, as if a mortal's opinion should hold any weight at all?
Though, she supposes that he did say he isn't praising her because he expects anything to come of that. Just that he thinks it's right to do so.
Secondly, don't think she didn't notice the lacking honorifics there. He's getting pretty comfortable around her.
However, by far the most important result of his words is entirely separate from the man speaking them.
Inari can feel Amaterasu's attention on this conversation. It has been there since the beginning, except that it suddenly just disappeared~.
Inari is going to tease Amaterasu for a long time~. Even if she's fairly sure that the main reason she'd have ran away would be to avoid tempting Inari into guiding this conversation into just teasing Amaterasu over and over for hours. Because Inari was entirely planning to do that, but there's not much point if she isn't going to hear it.
"Quite the charmer, aren't you?"
Narauko's response is immediate. Puffing his chest, tilting his head up and buffing his nails as he speaks in a tone as if reluctantly parting with information. "Well not to brag, but I've been known to be awesome and cool and various other positive adjectives too."
Inari is struck again by just how absurd it is to hear him say these words to her. She doesn't know if it'll ever not be strange. Because it's one thing to speak like that to some other humans, but to her? It's absurd. Hilariously absurd.
That Himejima would probably combust listening to this conversation.
Ah, right, that reminds her. She did actually have a proper reason for calling for Narauko.
Aaand great. Now that she's reminded herself of that purpose, her mood is entirely ruined.
Fucking shitty God, Inari complains in her mind. Even the thought of you ruins my day.
"Why do I feel I just died again?"
Inari blinks at Narauko's words and finds his face to be regaining its flush after briefly paling.
Oops.
"Must've been the wind," Inari responds, not really understanding the context of the phrase but understanding enough to know that he would have said it in her position.
Narauko stutters in place and blinks slowly, and then he is folding in on himself and giggling like he is trying to restrain his laughter and only succeeding at making himself laugh even more. Inari lets him laugh it out.
"Now, entertaining as this divergence has been, I did not summon you before me for such plain reasoning. My time is not that freely given you know~? I haven't done this in an age." It's cute how easily her words capture his attention. "I have a Quest for you, Narauko-kun~."
"I am ever at your service, Inari-sama." Narauko's response is easy and quick and comes with a bow that is not deep enough. A smile shines through, though he is always smiling in some manner. "I am kinda in the middle of something though?"
Inari almost roll her eyes at the audacity. He's not going to live very long if he makes a habit of interacting with Gods. She may be willing to interact with him with a mortal attitude, but there is a limit to even her willingness to tolerate impunity.
She isn't going to kill him or turn him into a frog or anything like that, but she also isn't going to just allow him to deny her. Especially for such a pathetic reason.
She is still a God. He can act how he likes with Nobles and Royal blood, but no mortal, no matter how special, has the right to just brush her off.
That doesn't mean she's going to be an ass about it though, she isn't Susano'o.
"A petty competition amongst insignificant fleas." A slight narrowing of the eyes is all the hint she gives of her thoughts as she waves his concern away. "You may even make it back in time for the next event anyway. You have a couple days, no?"
"Ah, yeah, I guess. So what's up?"
"You are going to need to be educated on how to commune with Gods," Inari can't help but say. Amused still at the total lack of deference, which is interesting as she likely would have found such to be incredibly aggravating on anyone else. It's difficult to hate him though. "That can wait, however, as I require you to remove some pests for me."
"Why do divine quests always have to involve killing something?" Narauko asks, voice a mix of pondering and complaining. It isn't quite an interruption, as she had paused, but she was clearly going to continue speaking, so it remains more of an interruption than any mortal—or most Gods for that matter—would dare. "Why is it never a quest to like.. cheer someone up or help them grieve or something?"
Inari doesn't really have a response to that so she decides to just pretend she didn't hear it.
"You will go to Hitachi, to a shrine near Kashima in which Ame-no-Ohabari lies at rest. A group of Mushin have already crossed our border and will likely arrive within the day. They are here to steal Ame-no-Ohabari so that their creator may pervert him into an abomination. You will not allow that to happen. Questions?"
She wouldn't normally ask, but again, Narauko is rather an exception to most all rules. His Curiosity is rather blatant beside. She'd almost feel bad not letting him assuage it even a little.
"Yeah, uh, what's a Mushin and isn't Ame-no-Ohabari Izanagi-sama's sword and also I don't know if I can run to Hitachi that fast?"
Inari shakes her head in bemusement at the rapid deluge of words, but she isn't surprised by it.
"A Mushin, as the name implies, is a doll with no will or mind of its own, created by a hypocritical bastard so that He can have an army of slaves while still denouncing the practice. Ame-no-Ohabari is without a wielder as Izanagi-sama is sadly deceased—"
"Wait Izanagi-sama is dead?!" Narauko interrupts, and this time it could not be misconstrued as anything but an interruption. A fact that has Inari's eyes narrowing in truth. "How does that even happen?"
"How else? Suicide." He is visibly shocked by that, and she chooses to explain without much thought. "You know the story, I assume? Of how he sealed his wife eternally within Yomi after recoiling from what the realm had done to her form? You must understand that the story is metaphor. A realm cannot be sealed away by a boulder, and the sight that caused Izanagi-sama to flee was not just a mere change in form. It was Izanami's essence that had changed. It is not something that you can really understand, but know that Izanagi-sama's reaction was not an unreasonable one. Just as you would not blame a girl for dropping a glass because she flinched upon seeing a spider."
Inari's smile turns a little bit sad at the dawning understanding on Narauko's face. She does find it rather tragic how poorly the story portrays Izanagi-sama, simply because the mortal mind is incapable of understanding it.
"Of course, as with all instinctual reactions, Izanagi-sama came to his senses after the fact. But what was done was already done. The seal placed upon Izanami and Yomi is not something that can be undone. So when Izanagi-sama's apologies and pleas went either ignored or were met with hatred, he decided to give the only apology there was left to give. He took his own life in the hope that it might bring Izanami-sama even a moment of relief."
She allows her words to settle for a moment before speaking again, her tone purposefully chipper and friendly. Eyes near closed as she smiles without any honesty.
"Oh and Narauko?" Inari waits only until his attention falls entirely on her instead of his own thoughts. Then, she forgets her restraint, allowing her essence to fill the room again. This time without a complete absence of power. This time, he does kneel. "Do not interrupt me again, yes?"
Wide-eyed and struggling to breathe, struggling to even remain on his knees, Narauko rapidly nods his head. Though not in desperation.
Her anger fades as quick as it came as amusement returns, simply because he seems so happy to be at her mercy.
As she's thought, it is difficult to hate this human.
She allows him to stand again.
"Sorry," he is quick to apologise, which she does appreciate. Especially as she can tell it is sincere, if lacking in the typical formality. "That was rude of me."
"'Tis no matter. Do a good job today and I will consider your apology accepted."
"That feels kinda like coercion, but sure." It's rather astounding how his attitude remains entirely unchanged. An anomalous man indeed. "I still don't know how I'm gonna get there in time though? It's quite a distance to travel?"
Inari smirks. "Who said anything about travel?" She raises a single brow and allows him only enough time to recognise her implication before raising a hand. "Kill the Mushin and bring me Ame-no-Ohabari."
With that final reminder of his task, Inari snaps her fingers and then Narauko is not in front of her and is instead exactly where she wants him to be.
Inari sits for a moment in silent thought. Then, eventually she lets out a small, reluctantly amused sigh and leans back to stare through the ceiling and into the sky.
"Amaterasu." Her voice is only soft, but she knows how easily it catches her friend's attention. "I am starting to see it."
///
Sukuna
///
"Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease! Spare me! Please! I beg you, have mercy!"
Within a glade of tall grass and under the soft moonlight, Sukuna regards the legless Curse User before him. Crawling through the mud like a worm after rain, straining the green grass with a single stroke of red.
So pathetic, he thinks, but he is referring to himself.
Because every time his mind strays to that ever present impulse to torture this maggot. To drag the pain out. Skin him alive, hang him by his entrails and hollow him out entirely, kept alive only by Reverse Cursed Technique.
Every time.. he thinks of Narauko.
It's so pathetic. It never stops him, of curse. It never could stop him. It just pisses him off, and when this worm calls out for mercy again, Sukuna swings an arm and rips his stomach open, filling the night sky with ever more agonising screams.
He enjoys it. It's fun. Narauko wouldn't even make a big deal out of it, he'd just shake his head and act all exasperated.
"Tsk."
It's Otakemaru's fault. Well, more the fault of his woman, whatever her name is.
He hates her. He hates Otakemaru. He Hates. Always.
But he cannot deny that her words held merit. They resonated with him in a way that he despises.
It has caused within him, for the first time in his life, a conflict.
"So annoying," he grouches aloud, turning uncaring eyes to the pathetic Sorcerer's agony. "You annoy me."
An arm is raised. A man is killed.
Three years. Well, two and a half.
He only has to deal with this annoying conflict for a meagre two and a half years. Then he can just kill Narauko and be done with it.
"Hm?" Sukuna turns to his shadow and watches it ripple. "What a coincidence."
It's not that surprising though. He already knows it will be a message from Narauko simply because no one else would send a Black Butterfly to him.
More importantly for why it is so unsurprising, is that Narauko sends them all the fucking time. Near every day Sukuna is getting a message describing the idiot's day and all the random, entirely disjointed thoughts he has had.
It's annoying. It's a near daily waste of time where nothing useful or interesting is shared.
He listens to every single word.
So Sukuna catches the butterfly, prepared to hear another rant about how beautiful this Tamamo Yōkai he's fucking is, or about some shitty garden he found or something mean that that freak Kamo said to him.
Instead, when the butterfly lands on his outstretched palm, Sukuna feels Otakemaru.
How odd.
Sukuna-san.
My wife tells me of a dream. She saw the heart of this realm of humanity aflame, and she saw a demon with four arms rise from the ashes. She said that it did not rise triumphant, but in grief.
Suzuka suspects that you are who is being represented by the demon and would prefer that you stay far away from the human's capital so that you may suffer as she has seen. Do with this information as you will.
Right, that was her name, Suzuka.
He does not commit it to memory at all.
This is the second time that woman has 'seen his future', but the first time she did it, she did so incorrectly. Sukuna has little faith that her visions hold any real weight.
Still... he's curious. Narauko is in the capital right now too, so Sukuna doesn't doubt for a second that that idiot is involved somehow. He is apparently the cause of the woman's previous vision involving Sukuna to be wrong too.
Besides, he isn't busy.
Shrugging, Sukuna turns to the direction of the capital and he begins to walk. Because if nothing else, he is curious what that fool woman believes could possibly cause him to feel anything akin to grief.
The only thing he can think of as an option is if Narauko were to die by anyone else's hand, but even then, he wouldn't grieve. He would Hate, as he always has, for the kill stolen from him.
Either way, Sukuna figures one of two things is going to happen.
Either he will arrive at the capital and nothing interesting will happen, in which case he will kill that fool woman.
Or, he will arrive at the capital and something interesting will happen. In which case he will probably still kill her anyway, because he finds it offensive that she keeps looking at him.
Whatever happens, Sukuna is only sure of one thing.
Somebody is going to die, and he is going to kill them.
///
A/N: He~llo! Dear readers!
Why is it so difficult to have a sleep schedule? Like I'm up for 15 hours and sleep for 11 and then when I'm up for 22 hours I sleep for 8??? wtf??