Rain pattered down on the black roof tiles for the thirteenth day in a row. At first the drops had been small, just a normal day of rain, however now they fell fat, splashing upon landing. From the grass jumped a happy frog, relishing in all the water now pooling on the stone floor. It was always interesting to watch the wildlife and I often found my mind wandering from my duties to all the birds, insects, and even the occasional deer that came to visit the shrine. What were their lives like, roaming from place to place, unbothered by time?

I dipped out from under the protective tiles of the shrine’s roof and out under the somewhat protection of the umbrella. The bamboo frame was sturdy enough, and the paper had been oiled to repel the rain, but even the best umbrella wouldn’t hold up in this rain. And I had a long way to go. Down the steps I went, thankful the long teeth on the soles of my red geta kept me high enough out of the puddles… for now. They would only last me until the edge of town, after that they would sink too deep in the soft earth, and so I needed sandals. Today I was braving the weather to travel out to Aokigahara, hoping to finally stop the rain. It had come as a surprise to us all, especially as the rainy season wasn’t due for another three months; for it to last this long meant something was very wrong.

At the shrine we had spent every day praying to Amaterasu for her light and warmth to breach the rain. We’d used so much incense that my nose refused to smell anything now, and even out here in the fresh air, nothing hit my senses. I’d spent each morning with mirrors and drums, singing until my voice was hoarse and then evenings calling to any other god who would listen. All were silent.

In the meantime, people had braved the heavy rain to come to the shrine each day, speaking to the priest in hurried hushed tones. Yuurei had been possessing women in the night, speaking one word over and over: forest. And now it was my duty as a miko to investigate. What if it was Amaterasu trying to contact me? She had chosen indirect ways before, out of fear. Though it certainly made me worry when she did. What made the goddess of the sun fear? If it wasn’t her, the resolution would be simple, the priest would travel out to the houses the yuurei had visited and he’d exorcise them all.

Water spilt down the umbrella, soaking my red hakama and sticking the fabric to my legs; I’d only made it as far as the shrine’s exit dry. I stepped through the last red torii gate and out onto the town path, the weight of my duties weighing heavier on my shoulders. In the shrine I always felt lighter, being as close as I could get to Amaterasu without possession. Out here it was like being lost in the sea in a small boat, pushed around by large waves ready to drown me. Never had I felt further from her.

I stopped for a moment to close my eyes and take a deep breath. I was a miko of Amaterasu’s shrine, this was my duty to listen for signs of her, and also protect the town and it’s inhabitants.

A sharp wind whipped the umbrella from my hand and I let out a surprised shriek. The bamboo slipped through my fingers so easily, and it landed down with a hollow thump, the paper ripped. A bad omen? I stooped to pick it up and checked the rip. It ran down to the centre, following the bamboo supports and I sighed. I’d picked this white umbrella to match my kosode which had joined my hakama in sticking to my skin. Even the thick collar wrapped around the back of my neck tight. Nevertheless, I would keep using it. Even a little protection from the rain was better than none, and the skies above were darkening.

I quickened my pace onwards, gripping tighter to my umbrella, hoping I could reach the forest for more shelter. Despite it being early morning, the light grew dimmer and dimmer until only a fraction of Amaterasu’s light touched the area.

Head ducked, huddled under the broken umbrella, I passed houses and workshops and a few others braving the weather. They rushed with their own umbrellas, kicking up water in their stead. I didn’t stop along the path until I reached a quiet and cold smithy with a broken roof. Weather had battered it and rain quenched the glowing fire until the owner, Kurachi-san had to relocate elsewhere. His wife was one who had been possessed by a yuurei, the ghostly figure stealing her away from him. His luck had been as bad as mine.

From a bag at my side, I took out a pair of sandals and switched from my geta and tabi socks. I would leave them and the umbrella here for later, tucked out of view. I took the moment to shake off any water and brush back loose hair with my hand.

Although I didn’t have to worry about being possessed by the yuurei, like the other women, there were plenty of other yokai which haunted the forest. Lumbering oni lived on the sides of Fujisan and many had seen kitsunebi deep in the forest, well aware to stay away. Thankfully, we’d had no issues with kitsune, at least, none that we’d found. I’d need to watch my step both for yokai and the soft ground, as much of it had started flooding, unable to soak up any more water.

Fujisan towered high in the distance, the mountain an ever-present stability in my life. It was a sacred place for many, and I always enjoyed seeing it every morning as the sun rose. It would give me strength now.

On I moved towards the forest, the great boughs in the distance catching some of the rain and offering much needed shelter. I hurried along the worn path until a great oak stood. Dipping under it’s branches, I glanced around for anything out of place. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but a cold chill ran down my spine as my senses tingled. I could feel the remnants of yuurei, ghostly tendrils that wrapped around tree trunks and beckoned me closer. The air around me grew thick and the sky was blotted out by branches as I continued deeper.

Snap.

A twig, a branch?

My heart hammered. I spun to face the noise.

Nothing.

I was too on edge.

“Ukie-san,” a breathy voice whispered in the wind.

From my kosode, I pulled out a hidden tantou, warm from my chest. I was taking no chances.

“Ukie-san,” it came again. “Closer.”

And I followed. Step after step the voice grew warmer, louder, until I ran. My chest grew bright with love, I knew who was calling for me. Wet earth slapped under my feet until I burst through to a clearing, startling birds scattering into the air.

Here the forest met the very edge of Fujisan, I’d been here before with the priest. Large rocks scattered the ground, freshly fallen from the mountainside.

“Go to the rocks,” the warmth whispered in my ear.

I kept my eyes on them as I neared, frowning as a familiar form sat so brilliantly in the grass, out of place, as if it had broken from the very side of Fujisan.

“This is Murasame,” Amaterasu-sama whispered. “You’ll need it.”

Bending down, I brushed the dirt and loose stones from the long scabbard. I’d never seen such a huge sword before.

“Amaterasu-sama, what am I to do with this? How do I bring it home?”

Silence.

I couldn’t leave it here alone, not after Amaterasu herself gave it to me. But, I also couldn’t bring this back without difficulty. The sword was longer than I was tall! My only choice was to carry it as best as I could.

“You really test my faith, Amaterasu-sama,” I muttered and rolled up the sleeves of my kosode.

By late afternoon, I’d made it back to the town. It was still raining. I’d actually become thankful for it cooling me down as my muscles burned with exertion carrying Murasame as best as I could. A horse trotted by, kicking up mud and adding it to the bottom of my once red hakama. A samurai sat on its back, head covered by a bamboo jingasa. It and his dark blue kimono both bore the three triangle crest of the Houjou clan. He came to a slow stop and looked back at me.

“Miko-san, do you need assistance?”

“Oh, um, yes please,” I called back over the rain, taken off-guard.

Slipping off the horse, he walked over, eyes following the length of the sword with appreciation.

“I need to take this to the shrine.”

“To the shrine?” The samurai hefted Murasame into his arms. “Is this a sacred sword?”

I nodded. “Sent to me by Amaterasu-sama herself.”

Together we walked, my legs wobbling, but I was determined to continue all the way to the shrine.

“If you are tired, miko-san, you may sit on my horse,” the samurai said as his horse followed us obediently.

“I’m fine, thank you. Although I wish to know your name, samurai-san, so I can thank you properly.”

He bowed his head and smiled. “Masatoshi Houjou. And yours?”

“Thank you for your help, Houjou-san. I am Ukie Shikawa, miko of Motosu shrine.”

Climbing the steps of the shrine made my muscles burn, and I so desperately wanted to stop. I was nearly home though, only a few more—

I hit the wet stone with a dull thump.

“Shikawa-san?”

“I’m alright I—”

“Here,” he said, laying Murasame down beside me. “Let me carry you up first.”

“No, no. Murasame is more important. I am soaked through anyway, I will take a small break.”

Houjou-san frowned but I straightened my back to try and stop him from fawning over me. This was hardly the hardest thing I had to do for Amaterasu and I’m sure there would be equally as many challenges in future.

“Please take Murasame to the priest, Endo-san.”

“I’ll return, Shikawa-san,” he said, and hurried up the slippery steps.

As soon as he was far enough away, I slumped in exhaustion. A coldness now filled my bones and my fingertips wrinkled with moisture. I really hoped Murasame was a part of stopping the rain, because why else would Amaterasu give it to me. I had no clue how a sword, and a large one at that, would stop rain, but I trusted her. Perhaps it was infused with her light, or maybe even another god’s. Michi-san would know. He’d been a priest for Amaterasu since forever. Even as a child he had been here, tending to the shrine. His father before him, and even his grandfather had also been here. It was lucky, in truth, that he also wanted to be a priest, especially after his mother named him Tadamichi, with the first kanji meaning loyal and the second meaning path.

Houjou-san returned faster than I expected, and bowed quickly to me before offering his arm. “Please, Shikawa-san, let me help you up the steps.”

It would be bad manners to deny him again, so I took the offered arm and we made our way up.

“Endo-san was surprised to see the sword, but he is taking it to your room for safe keeping.”

“Thank you,” I said trying not to wobble and fall a second time. “I will pray with it later to see if Amaterasu-sama will enlighten me as to its purpose.”

“Few samurai use an odachi,” he said gesturing to the swords at his hip. “A tachi is more useful and practical on the battlefield. And the wakizashi is for closer combat.”

“Yes,” I said laughing giddily. “I can’t imagine anyone swinging around Murasame. Except maybe an oni.”

I laughed, but the thought was terrifying as I imagined a huge oni wielding Murasame without issue. I was thankful they liked to live deep into mountains, only appearing to drag our livestock away, and the unlucky traveller. Those who lived closer to oni-occupied caves often left livestock closer to the entrance, hoping to appease the foul yokai.

“And the gods,” I added quickly, trying to move along my thoughts.

Houjou-san nodded, but stayed silent until we passed through a torii gate and dipped under the first roof. “The Motosu shrine is wonderful. Such a beautiful shrine for Amaterasu-sama.”

“It is much better when it’s not raining,” I said, releasing his arm. “I hope you can see it in it’s full glory. Right now… it won’t stop raining.”

“I had heard,” Houjou-san said, still looking around. “At first I couldn’t imagine it to be the truth, but now I am here I understand. Such a bad omen.”

“Yes.” I sighed. “Something is happening that I can’t fathom, something Amaterasu hasn’t spoken to me about yet. Now I have Murasame, I hope to figure it out. Thank you for helping me up the steps, Houjou-san.” I bowed deeply. “As well as bringing Murasame all this way for me.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied. “I couldn’t leave you out in the rain, and admittedly, I was interested in how a miko ended up carrying such a large sword.”

I smiled. “Please return to the shrine again, perhaps for tea. I would offer now, but I’m in no state to host.”

“I will return,” Houjou-san said. “My horse needs a rest, so I’ll be staying here for two nights.” He bowed. “Goodbye, Shikawa-san.”

Houjou-san dashed off back into the rain, nimbly disappearing down the steps as quickly as he appeared. I tried to ignore the little flutter in my stomach, it was just exhaustion after all. Certainly. Anyway, anybody else would have helped me too, whether for favour from the gods, or because they knew me. My clothes indicated exactly who I was and could be seen easily anywhere from town.

I needed to focus on my task. First, I needed to get out of my wet clothes and—and I’d left my geta at the blacksmiths. I’d need to return for them later. Once I was dry, I would then look at Murasame and pray.

And no thoughts of helpful samurai were going to distract me.

The next day brought as much rain as the day before, and the day before that. I knelt now in a kimono, tea to one side, and Murasame to another. The sword gleamed in the light, now gently washed of the dirt. Michi-san had been extra thorough with cleaning, although hadn’t taken the blade from it’s sheath yet. The tatami dipped beneath me gently as he leant forward and took hold of the handle.

“Now to see it’s true beauty,” he said, slowing drawing it out. He stopped halfway and pointed to the sharp edge. “Look at this Ukie-chan, the hamon is wavy. Kurachi-san would be really interested in seeing this.”

I nodded and sipped my tea. “Yes, we should invite him to view it… with the other samurai.”

I’d spent the night before in meditation and prayer, asking Amaterasu for guidance. What did she want me to do with this sword? Silence. The moonless night passed on until dawn broke behind more rain clouds, and only when I was ready to collapse with exhaustion did the faintest sound hit my ears. Find someone to wield it.

When I woke next, my head throbbed and my muscles barely listened to me as I tried to move. I ached all over, even muscles I didn’t know about burned with movement. Michi-san shone almost as bright as Amaterasu with excitement and I let him do most of the work. Together we’d agreed to ask the samurai nearby to visit the shrine, hoping one of them could wield Murasame well. To be chosen by a god for such a task was a blessing none of them would want to refuse.

“I will send for them.” Michi-san said pulling a shoji door open a crack. “I would wait until the afternoon, so we could reassure the people we are dealing with this. However, the rain is worse today. We need them here now. Lake Motosu has swelled higher than ever before. Farmers tried the fields again yesterday but have finally abandoned them. The earth is swamped and keeping away even the most stubborn farmer.”

“Amaterasu has never been so quiet, I’m worried. How are we supposed to keep going when we don’t know what this is even for?”

He turned back to face me and smiled. “With faith. Amaterasu-sama has not abandoned us. She needs us, and we are here. All we can do for now is what she has asked, while also taking care of the town. Remind them that Amaterasu’s light will dry away all this rain once she is able to shine again. The plants will grow stronger and our crops will be plentiful.”

I stared at the tatami. It was hard to hold on to my faith sometimes, but I would keep strong. Yesterday had been the first test, I knew. And Amaterasu certainly trusted me with such a sacred object.

“Let’s hope the samurai can wield Murasame,” I said, finally.

I returned to my tea and watched as Michi-san left the room. If I was to keep up, I needed to let my body rest, and so I would sit here with my tea waiting next to Murasame. I wasn’t going to let a sacred object be left alone for long anyway. Such objects are normally sealed away safe and secure and the odachi was here laid on four red zabuton in a row, cushioned.

Despite Michi-san’s words, worry still nagged at me. What if nobody could wield the sword? Carrying it was one thing, but using the blade was something else entirely.

My eyelids fell slowly as the tea warmed me from the inside and I found myself drifting to sleep. I needed to stay awake but the pull of sleep was too strong. Before long, I found myself standing on a grassy field overlooking the sea. Waves crashed against the shore, the rhythmic sound calming to my ears.

“Ukie-san.” I turned to find the sun on my skin. She smiled. “It’s been a while since I have been in your dreams.”

I bowed my head. “Amaterasu-sama.”

Her long black hair was tied back elaborately and wore a kimono of gold and red. I lost my breath.

“I can feel your worry,” she said, stepping closer and taking hold my hand. “I know I haven’t been able to speak to you like normal, I will explain fully soon. When the samurai arrive, pick the one who has a strong heart. Someone who can wield Murasame in my stead and will do their duty to me. I will trust your judgement Ukie-san, my blessed miko.”

“Will this stop the rain?” I said, feeling the dream dissipating. “I need to know.”

“If the samurai can do his duty, then you will feel my light again.”

Amaterasu let go of my hand and a chill crept into my bones. “Please. Don’t leave Amaterasu-sama.”

“I must,” she said, pulling something small from her kimono. Amaterasu held her hand out and opened it to reveal an omamori topped with a white string knotted up. The amulet was the same colour as her kimono. “A reminder, and all the luck you will need.”

“Thank you,” I said, taking the gift and bowing low. “Amaterasu-sama.”

When I looked back up, she was gone. However the omamori still sat warm in my hand. I touched the silk gently and smiled. This was similar to the ones we sold at the shrine as good luck. But what better luck was that from a goddess? I tucked it into my kimono. I had a stronger purpose now, and I would not disappoint Amaterasu.

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My eyes opened to the same room I’d drifted from. Murasame sit sat soundly beside me and rain still fell onto the tiles over my head. I couldn’t help but feel inside my kimono for the omamori, and sure enough, it was snug against my skin.

I drained the last of my now cold tea, and stood. I would retie my hair and prepare more hot water for tea for each of our guests, and by the end of the day, pick for Amaterasu.

I didn’t have to wait long before the first samurai arrived. Satake-san was from the clan to the east, journeying with his younger brother who knelt next to him. Both didn’t acknowledge Murasame at first, and enjoyed the tea prepared by Michi-san who had spread the word in the town. Houjou-san had followed soon after and my eyes lit up seeing him again.

“Shikawa-san,” he said, bowing his head. “I return, as promised.”

“Please, join us,” Michi-san said, gesturing to the tatami. “My friend Kurachi-san will be here any moment. In the meantime, would you like tea?”

He shook his head. “No, thank you.”

“Then, perhaps some rice?” Beside Michi-san lay a tray with full bowls of rice and chopsticks. “The rain has made many extra hungry, so I prepared these just in case.”

“Here you are,” I said grabbing a bowl quickly and offering it to him. “Please keep your strength up Houjou-san.”

“I… Thank you, Shikawa-san.” He took the bowl gratefully and I smiled.

I carefully took a bowl of rice for myself and enjoyed the lingering warmth. Once the bowls were empty, Michi-san gestured to the reason we were all here.

“This here is Murasame, the sword you have all come here to see. The sword one of you will wield for Amaterasu-sama. She needs our help.”

Kurachi-san’s eyes lit up, and I could tell he was eager to take a closer look at it. “You can touch it,” I said to him. “It is a sacred sword, but we need you all to try holding it.”

Kurachi-san wasted no time in kneeling before the large odachi and running a finger along the scabbard. “The craftsmanship is beautiful, the patterns here in the wood would take long to craft. This is the work of an expert.” From there he gently grasped the handle and slid the blade out, just as we’d done. Michi-san knelt beside him, supporting the scabbard so the whole blade could be removed, until it lay across Kurachi-san’s lap.

“Midare hamon that looks like the large waves of the sea. This isn’t easy to make.” Kurachi-san frowned as he lifted it. “It’s heavier than expected, even for an odachi of this size.” He stood and held the long blade out towards the rest of us, eyes running down the odachi. “It’s also thinner than it should be. A sword made for one reason. A one strike kill.” Kurachi-san carefully lay it back down unsheathed and knelt back in his original place.

“Are you saying it will break after the first blow?” the elder Satake brother said. “How is anyone supposed to use that?”

“I can do it.” The younger brother jumped up. “I have more faith than Yata-chan has.”

Just like Kurachi-san, he lifted it and held it out to strike. His mouth crumpled into a thin line and his arms shook with exertion.

“You can’t do it, Goro.”

The younger Satake held on a little longer before conceding to defeat and laying it back down. He knelt back down with a huff.

“Perhaps you can lift it, Houjou-san,” Michi-san said.

Houjou-san stood and like the others, held it with care. My heart sunk as he held it out for a moment and lay it down again.

“Yatarou-san is correct, I do not understand how Amaterasu-sama expects someone to wield this. It’s too long, too heavy. It would unbalance anyone without the perfect stance.”

The last hope in my chest fell to tatters, but I knew I couldn’t lose it. Amaterasu must have a plan.

“Please—”

“I’m sorry, Shikawa-san,” Houjou-san interrupted and bowed his head. “During a battle there are many things to think about. We must rely on our swords and use them without hesitation.”

“May I try?” We all turned to find a new figure in the doorway, bowing his head. “I’m Norisuke Nakami, sorry I’m late.”

“Of course,” Michi-san nodded.

I watched as he entered and approached. He was dressed in a simple grey kimono and his black hair was tied tight on top his head. Despite his appearance, something nagged at my stomach. There was something wrong.

Nakami-san’s fingers brushed the blade and he pulled away with a yelp. “It’s hot?”

I scrambled closer, feeling protective of such a sacred sword and gingerly touched the blade too. It burned with the heat of a roaring fire.

“Get away!” a new voice hissed.

Light flooded the room and I buried my head in my hands.

“How dare you step into my shrine.”

Amaterasu-sama?

I opened my eyes to find her standing in front of us all, standing in the way of Murasame. I bowed deeply, pressing my head to the tatami.

“Amaterasu-sama? What is wrong?” Michi-san said in confusion.

“This man is not to hold Murasame,” she commanded. “He works against us.”

A cold blade touched the back of my neck. I froze. “Let me leave this place and your miko will be unharmed.

The room went silent. I thought quickly. I couldn’t see Nakami-san’s legs, but if I lifted my head slightly, maybe I could—

Through gritted teeth Nakami managed, “you—” before the blade lifted.

I scrambled away to find him on his knees, grey kimono stained dark. Houjou-san pulled his sword out of Nakami-san.

“Thank you, Masatoshi-san,” Amaterasu said with a smile. “I would see no harm to Ukie-san.”

Yatarou Satake hurried to the door. “I’ll go get—”

“Stay,” Amaterasu commanded. “His life is of no consequence. Not now.”

My goddess stood proudly, the light around her dimming. Despite this, she looked troubled and worry marred her face.

“Thank you all for trying to wield Murasame,” she said, starting slowly. “And protecting it. I’ve had to stay secretive until now, because of him.” She pointed to Nakami-san who was looking between Amaterasu and the growing patch of blood at his belly. “I can’t show myself or interact with the world much right now. I can’t risk this going wrong, and he would have ran back and alerted the wrong gods.” Amaterasu sighed. “My brother, Susanoo, is creating all this rain. He’s out of control. Any time I get close to him he flees and creates more destruction. That’s what Murasame is for. I need one of you to strike him, to stop him long enough that I can get close.”

“Ukemochi-sama won’t let it happen,” Nakami-san said, laughing with pain. “They are ready for Susanoo to destroy the whole country.”

“Silence,” Amaterasu commanded. He listened.

Kurachi-san slowly walked past Amaterasu to Murasame, then bowed to her. “I will do it.”

What? But he wasn’t a samurai?

“I’ve spent most of my years making weapons, yet never using them. Plus, who would expect it to be me.”

Amaterasu took hold of his hands. “Then I bless you, Itami Kurachi. Please help me.”

I’d excused myself soon after Kurachi-san stepped forward. My mind raced. I couldn’t find rest at all. The whole thing had been chaos. Amaterasu’s plea, watching a man being stabbed right there… I could still feel the cold blade at the back of my neck. The shrine was a sacred place, one where these things weren’t supposed to happen at all. And with Amaterasu-sama right there! I’d kept my composure long enough to walk away before bursting into tears. I was scared, so scared. My body shook and I kept walking until I’d made it from the shrine to a small orchard that hid behind it. I came here when I needed to think.

The rain pattered on my umbrella like my tears falling from my cheeks. Just like the rain, I could not stop them. No matter how many I wiped away with the sleeve of my kosode, they always came right back. So I rested on a tree stump, not caring how much time passed, trying not to think of how close to death I could have been, and yet failing at that too.

Eventually I could see a figure heading towards me. At first I thought it’d be Michi-san coming to tell me to be strong, however I was greeted by a deep blue kimono getting darker with each drop of rain. Houjou-san.

“I’m sorry Shikawa-san,” he said stopping before me and bowing low. “You should not have seen what happened today and I take full responsibility.”

“No, no,” I replied quickly, trying to keep my voice steady. “It is not your fault Houjou-san. Please stand up.”

“No, you were in danger and we failed you and Endo-san. And then you saw the consequence.”

I bowed my head. “Then I must apologise for being in the room when it happened.”

“But you—”

“If you are at fault, Houjou-san, then I am too,” I said, lifting my head. I would have looked him in the eyes, however he was still bowed deep. After a moment, he met my eyes.

“No wonder you are favoured by Amaterasu-sama, you have her strength.” Houjou-san smiled a little. “I shouldn’t have doubted the miko of Motosu shrine.”

Despite his words I still felt like I would crumple at any moment. Fear still had it’s grips deep in my skin.

“It’s always hard, the first time you see it,” Houjou-san, eyes now on the green leaves of the trees, bending with each raindrop. “Shikawa-san, while you were gone, we spoke about how to proceed now. We all decided it would be best if you stayed here at the shrine doing all you can to keep Susanoo-sama from figuring out the plan.”

“Ukie, you can call me Ukie.”

Houjou-san turned to me and smiled again. “Thank you, Ukie-san. Then, you can call me Masatoshi.”

Masatoshi-san’s smile left a warmth in my chest once more. I was thankful he had come out to find me, if I could have made this moment last longer, I would have. But, Amaterasu needed us to act. I’d spent long enough out here.

“I will do what Amaterasu-sama wishes, no matter what that entails. If I have to see death, I won’t avoid it. Fear shouldn’t keep me away from what needs to be done.”

Masatoshi frowned. “No, it shouldn’t. But you also shouldn’t walk blindly into harm. I… I wouldn’t like to see you harmed.”

“You’ll be there, right?” I asked, heat starting to tinge my cheeks. “Then I’ll be safe?”

“I…”

It was strange seeing a samurai so flustered and lost for words. He stepped closer and I could feel his heat radiating; it reminded me of the sun gracing my skin and giving me strength. Brown eyes looked at mine, and I knew. Just like my own heart thumping wildly in my chest, his did too.

“I plan to go up against a god,” he said quietly. “Something I have never trained for, but I will do as Amaterasu-sama asks. And I’ll do it for you. Then the rains will stop and you can rest.” He stopped a moment before his voice turned to a whisper. “It’s against etiquette and wrong of me to ask, but… no, I sh—”

Lifting myself up on my toes, I pressed a light kiss to his lips.

“Ah!”

“Yes.” I chuckled. “You can kiss me.”

Stunned, Masatoshi was speechless, before leaning down to return the kiss. I reached out and rested my hand on his broad chest, letting the umbrella in my other hand fall to the ground. His lips were warm and needy, I could tell he was holding back.

“If fate allows it, I will live and kiss you like this again,” he said once we parted.

I nodded and rested my head on his chest, wanting to be closer to him. He was hesitant at first, then slowly wrapped his arms around me.

“Nobody can see us here,” I assured him. “It’s just us.”

He kissed the top of my head. “As much as I want to keep it that way, we should return to the shrine.”

“I know,” I sighed into his chest. The last few days had been so long and tiring and to be held like this… “Promise me you won’t die, please?”

“How can I now?”

“Oh!” I pulled away and reached into my kimono and pulled out the omamori Amaterasu had given me. I held it out to him. “Here, Toshi-san, this will help you too. It came from Amaterasu-sama herself.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, marvelling over the delicate charm in my hand.

“Yes, this way you can protect me, and I can protect you.”

“Thank you, Ukie-chan.”

I blushed deeper, this time caught off guard by him. I’d never had such a nickname before, at least, not since I was a child. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“Now, let’s return.”

The plan was pretty simple. Susanoo needed luring closer, and once close enough, Kurachi-san would strike at him with Murasame. He would be hiding in his now-cold smithy until Susanoo approached. The only problem was bringing him closer from wherever he was. Amaterasu had remarked he wasn’t too far, as he’d been spotted at a nearby coastal town he’d destroyed. Now it was my duty to catch his attention. I planned to pray with Michi-san, begging for protection, and hoping to boost his ego. If that didn’t work, I would taunt him instead. It felt incredibly wrong to do so, but Amaterasu had assured me it was right.

The Satake brothers had dragged Nakami-san’s now lifeless body away and were going to stand guard to protect any townspeople. I could sense the fear in them, but who wouldn’t be afraid, knowing they would be up against a god? We were just human.

And Toshi-san was beside me, carrying Murasame. He didn’t want Kurachi-san to tire himself just taking the large odachi to his smithy, so he held it firmly.

Rain continued its everlasting pitter-patter but for once I didn’t mind. If all went well, it would be over soon, and we wouldn’t have to worry about flooded fields and Amaterasu’s light would fully reach us again. I smiled. I had faith and hope.

“Kurachi-san’s workshop is at the end of this path,” I said to Toshi-san, avoiding a large puddle. “He had to abandon it because of the rain, so it’s a little flooded.”

“It looks like many people have had the same issue,” he replied. “I never imagined how bad rain could be.”

“We’re lucky to not live right beside the lake. The water swelled higher and broke the banks.”

It was comforting talking as we walked along the stone path. As much faith and hope I had, I couldn’t help but be terrified too. But I wouldn’t let it set deep in my heart. I had to focus.

Thankfully, we arrived at the smithy fast enough and found Kurachi-san waiting with Michi-san.

“Ukie-san, I have the incense lit and ready. Kurachi-san found a dry spot for us.”

“Please,” he said gruffly. “You may call me Itami. There’s no need for formality here.”

“Agreed,” said Toshi-san. “If this goes well, I’d be happy to call you all my friends.”

Toshi-san offered him Murasame, and he took the handle and drew him from the scabbard. “I will keep it unsheathed so I’m ready at any moment.”

Toshi-san laughed. “Are you sure you aren’t a samurai? You remind me of my brother.”

“Now,” Michi-san interrupted. “We bring Susanoo here. Amaterasu-sama will be watching, but she will not intervene until it’s assured Susanoo won’t be able to flee again.”

I walked across the smithy to a cleared shelf now filled with three sticks of burning incense. The smell hit me deep in the chest, reminding me of all the times before when I’d tried to contact Amaterasu. Closing my eyes, I sent my mind outwards. I needed to drop any thought or feeling of Ukie and become only a miko. My only purpose was to connect with a god, to reach an existence that most people didn’t know even existed.

A metallic noise chimed. Michi-san had struck the small atarigane, keeping a part of me grounded to the earth. I was ready.

“Susanoo-sama,” I called, “god of the seas and bringer of all this rain. I pray to you now, beg for you to listen to me. Please grace me with your presence, I want to thank you for all this rain which will wash away our enemies.”

Silence.

“Susanoo-sama, I—”

I cried out as a wave in my mind crashed over my being. Coldness chilled through my body, but I held on tight. Deeper and deeper I fell in the water, drowning into dark depths. This was Susanoo’s mind.

“Miko, how dare you reach into my mind. I will bury you at the bottom of the ocean. With your last breath you will cry and beg and nobody will hear you. But I will know.”

Fear flooded my body and weakness crashed me to my knees. He was too strong. I tried to let go.

“Oh no,” he said, gleefully. “You cannot escape me now. You wanted to talk to me and I’m right here. I will be the storm in your mind until you beg and beg and beg for freedom.”

There was no escape, any attempt blocked by a maelstrom of power. How could a god be so powerful? I couldn’t do this, I couldn’t—

Chime.

I was still grounded. I still had a body.

“You… You’re a coward,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “A weak god. You won’t drown me, I bet you can’t even move my body, let alone drop it to the bottom of the ocean.”

Laughter. “We shall see.”

He broke the connection instantly and I was back to my real body. I dropped to the floor.

“Ukie-chan,” Toshi-san cried in alarm and bent down beside me. “Are you alright?”

“He’s coming.”

Outside, the rain fell heavier than I’d ever seen it fall. Water pounded the inundated earth, sending rivers flowing past us. The wind whipped past the doorway and howled through the street. It was what we couldn’t see that terrified me, however. Like a typhoon, a presence descended, and all I could sense was a deep dark blackness. I grabbed hold of Toshi-san, the warmth of his arm gave me a moment of safety.

Next to me, Michi-san had also collapsed to the floor. His eyes were shut, his mind elsewhere.

“No,” I cried out, “what are you doing? He can’t—Susanoo is too strong. I need—”

Wind stole my words away as one side of the roof was ripped away. A push and I fell backwards. The other half came crashing down, heavy roof tiles landing with a thump. I coughed. Dust coated my mouth. Looking up, I screamed. Toshi-san and Michi-san were buried under the roof, legs poking out from the rubble.

Standing in the broken doorway was a figure clad in a deep blue haori. Black eyes blazing with anger, he watched my every move. I knew exactly who he was. Susanoo. Where was Itami-san?

Susanoo stepped forwards and the rain followed him. “We are the sea and you will regret. I will drown you where you stand. Drown you like the many before you.”

A flash of light. Itami-san rushed forwards, swinging down Murasame towards Susanoo. The blade grazed his kimono as he stumbled backwards, slicing the silk open. He didn’t get a second chance. Susanoo sent Itami-san’s body flew sideways and into a barrel of water. Murasame clattered to the floor. No matter how much he flailed to escape, Susanoo held strong.

“Stop it, stop it!” I yelled at him, tears clouding my vision. “Don’t kill him.”

“You’re next.”

I hurried to Murasame. The odachi was too heavy, too long in my hands as I tried lifting it. Susanoo just sneered at me; I’d never seem a god so cruel, so ready to kill. I gritted my teeth. I had to stop him.

Sunlight burst through the rain, and for a moment I was blind. Amaterasu-sama. And if I was blind…

I lifted Murasame as high as I could. A strength filled me and it rose even higher. And with one strike, I let the blade fall. All my anger and faith made the strike hit true; I felt the blade slice flesh and Susanoo screamed.

Light gone, I fell backwards. Amaterasu appeared next to me.

“Begone, ara-mitama.”

Susanoo collapsed down to his hands and knees, panting and coughing. From his mouth dripped black. Breath after breath he spat more of it out until it writhed and grew into a beastly figure. Fangs grew from their mouth, which showed as they grinned.

“How dare you,” it eventually spoke, deep and guttural. “I was having fun.”

“No, how dare you use my brother,” Amaterasu growled, light blazing around her.

They laughed and stretched their arms. “I must thank you for letting me free, however. I may not have the seas now, but this world will feel my wrath. You may call me Amanozako.”

Amanozako took a step forwards. From the floor Murasame rose and Amaterasu took hold of it.

“Take another step and I will strike you down.”

She growled at Amaterasu, baring her fangs wide. Amaterasu raised the blade, but before she could strike, Amanozako fled out of the broken doorway.

“I-Is it alright to let her go?” I asked quietly.

“I will deal with her later,” Amaterasu replied. “Let me fix this mess.”

Around me tiles and debris lifted, revealing Toshi-san and Michi-san; blood splattered their kimono and they lay groaning in pain.

“Are you both alive?” I asked, not moving for fear of interrupting Amaterasu.

She continued to rebuild the smithy with ease, until her eyes shifted to Itami-san. I couldn’t bear to look at him, slumped in the barrel, legs hanging out. Amaterasu walked to him and gently lifted him from the watery grave. Light filled the room once more and all I could do was close my eyes. Every pain and ache slowly lifted from my body until all that remained was the warmth and love for my goddess. After a while I opened my eyes.

“You all helped free my brother from his ara-mitama, and I bless you all. The wild part of his godly soul turned into the foul beast that left just now, but not before making my brother rampage. I will need to undo all this destruction.”

Susanoo finally looked at us all, pain lining his face. “I’m sorry,” he said to his sister.

“I think you should stay here,” she replied. “Help those here and those you’ve wronged. I’ll return later.”

She left us then, taking her sunlight with her. I didn’t know what to think or do. None of us did. A broken god sat on the floor in front of us, kimono in tatters.

“I… I need sake,” Itami-san managed.

A few days later, I was sat in the sunlight, admiring the orchard. Sunlight. The rain had stopped soon after Amaterasu had left, and we’d been able to travel back without umbrellas for the first time in a while. The Satake brothers had kept their promise by keeping the townsfolk away, and although a few houses had been flooded, nobody else had been hurt. They’d returned home, much like the other samurai who has paused to rest in Motosu. But not Toshi-san. Every day he’d been to the shrine to visit me, checking how I was after everything. I knew though that one day he’d have to go back home, and it hurt my heart.

Susanoo-sama had also been gently guiding the water away, letting farmers return to their fields and soon the town was busy again. He’d stayed at the shrine, influencing things from afar, too afraid he would hurt anyone else. In time, I knew he would walk down the street like the rest of us, but it would take time.

And I would be here for that, helping him, ready to answer when Amaterasu called me again.