Ginshin and Kurokami fought for hundreds of years after achieving the mark of their godhood, and all of the powers that came with it. Mortals—human beings—were inclined to do wrong, flawed and imperfect like the world the gods created. The cousins had no grudge towards each other but mere challenge, as both liked to fight and their cousin was the only one to give them a decent battle as they grew stronger.

Their personal war only grew stronger with the promise of land—but neither of them could decide on how to split it. To the east was mountains, plains, and rocky shores; to the west, a vast amount of forests, lakes, and good ground for unexpected battles. Ginshin and Kurokami both wanted all of this land, and so they fought a war over it. The victor shall rule the whole island, they decided, while the one that lost will be killed. They saw it as fair and just, believing it to be the creator gods’ true intention.

They gathered the human beings living in those areas, and rallied them to their cause. This created people who believed in the silver-god, and those who believed in the black-god; they fought against each other as enemies, often viciously, and many lives were lost.

As the fighting intensified and humans grew in number, Bekin and Emaya created several more islands and gods to govern them—yet these gods could not bear children, as the original four and the cousins could, and there was only one for each island. Of note was a god named Torigami, who governed a northern island that always seemed to have sunlight filtering through it.

Ginshin heard of Torigami and his trickster spirit, and spoke with him. Together, they devised tengu, flying creatures that would fight in the war between cousin-gods. In response to this, Kurokami led a massacre of foxes in the forest lands, reviving them with his power and creating kitsune. The tengu were haughty and proud, however, and fought amongst themselves more than they ever went into battle; kitsune were shapeshifters, who avoided the fighting and stayed in the forests to play. Although some of their creations did fight, many did not follow their intended purpose.

When Ginshin and Kurokami sought to gain Aimiki and Itoki’s support, these words were spoken:

“Children,” Aimiki and Itoki said together, “Cease your fighting, and calm yourselves. Be at peace.”

“We cannot stop fighting,” the cousin-gods replied. “It is in our blood—our nature. Until we face intervention, we will continue our battle.”

The older gods both sighed. “Very well. Allow these monsters to end your feud!”

Aimiki and Itoki thus created oni—monstrous demons, in a sense, and powerful male warriors—and kijo—an oni’s strong, female counterpart—who were monstrous, powerful, and soon heeded none but those who could defeat them. Many spread across the land, hiding as the kitsune and tengu did, although a few fought alongside Ginshin and Kurokami. This achieved the goal Ginshin and Kurokami had desired, albeit inadvertently, and served to make the fighting even more vicious.

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They continued fighting until a day in winter. One thousand years had passed since the creation of the world—only a century was spent in any kind of peace, before Ginshin and Kurokami received their proof of heritage.

The cousins met, with their horde of human and monster soldiers, at the center of the island for a glorious battle. Ginshin and Kurokami were engaged in a duel as soon as the battle began, exchanging blows. The soldiers behind them took it as an order to engage, and the armies fought in the cold night, the stars being their only light, desecrating a holy place in their haste and bloodshed.

When the moon reached its highest peak, the world grew darker. Every warrior but Ginshin and Kurokami fled, the cousin-gods being so consumed in their duel that they did not notice the darkening sky, nor did the lack of light bother them. They were spoken to.

“Be still.”

Not even a command from the gods stopped them. The wind around them grew stronger.

“Be at peace.”

They continued their fight. Rain began to pour down from the heavens.

“Heed our words.”

Ginshin and Kurokami continued their duel. There was rumbling from the earth.

When Bekin and Emaya appeared next to their respective descendants, the dueling cousin-gods stopped.

“Will you cease your fighting?” Bekin and Emaya asked. “This world grows darker still. There will be nothing left if you continue on this path.”

“Very well,” Ginshin and Kurokami replied. “We shall accept destruction, if it means we can section the land however we desire.”

“Your fighting has taken away that privilege,” Bekin and Emaya said. “You will no longer have the choice.”

The earth rumbled, opening up a large gap in the ground. A chasm was created, dividing the island in two, and was quickly filled with rushing seawater to create a river. The cousin-gods were no longer close enough to exchange blows, separated by a water barrier that could not be easily conquered and passed. Bekin and Ginshin stood on the east side of the river; Emaya and Kurokami stood on the west.

Emaya spoke to Kurokami first. “You shall remain in this place, and make this area your kingdom,” Emaya said. “Everything west of this river shall be yours for you to do as you please. Your descendants shall be strong and prideful—yet in that pride, they shall fall in true dignity, and stoop to great lows to achieve their own ends. Your kingdom shall initiate all battles in this world, no matter how far away or distant they seem.”

Bekin then spoke with Ginshin. “You shall remain in this place, and make this area your kingdom,” Bekin said. “Everything east of this river shall be yours for you to do as you please. Your descendants shall be resourceful and cunning—yet they will have the nature of a fox, and hold on to their beliefs dearly no matter how false. Your kingdom shall bear the person to end both nations, silver fighting against black, until one takes their own life in protection of others and is acknowledged for the deed.”

The gods stepped away from their descendants and spoke together. “On this island, separated perfectly into two, will live two kingdoms—two nations. In time, these nations will destroy themselves, your feud never ending.”

“Very well,” Ginshin and Kurokami said. “We accept your rewards and punishments.”

Bekin and Emaya nodded, then left. Ginshin and Kurokami’s war was only paused briefly, to the dismay of their immortal parents. They resumed fighting for the rest of their lives, and their people fought after their founders had passed.

Thus ended Hajimari, the beginning—and so began Kokka, the years of nations.