The Jomon Era was an interesting time. The world was still new, raw with potential and brimming with chaos. After I created Izanami and Izanagi, other gods began popping up like mushrooms after a rainstorm. They were everywhere, filling Heaven with their pompous attitudes, endless rules, and incessant chatter about "balance" and "order." I liked them well enough, but let's be honest—I was bored out of my Godly mind.

"Minaka!" I called out, wandering around the celestial palace, my twelve-year-old self looking for something—anything—to entertain me. Minaka was one of the more sensible gods, not too full of herself, but always annoyingly practical. She was my go-to when I needed a distraction.

She appeared from around a corner, her robes flowing like a waterfall. "Yes, Y/N? What do you want now?"

I pouted, kicking at an imaginary pebble. "Do you have any toys?"

Minaka gave me a blank stare. "Toys? Why would I have toys?"

I crossed my arms. "I'm bored, Minaka. I need something to do. Do you have anything fun around here?"

She sighed, shaking her head. "No, Y/N. I don't have toys. We are Gods, not children."

"Speak for yourself," I muttered under my breath. I waved her off and turned on my heel. "Fine, I'll make my own toy then."

She didn't respond, just watched me with that concerned, yet exasperated look she always had. I was used to it. I had better things to do than sit around Heaven listening to more lectures. If they weren't going to entertain me, I'd entertain myself.

I wandered out of the palace and headed straight for the Divine Forest of Life, a place where reality was still soft and pliable. The air crackled with energy as I walked in, like a static charge just waiting for a touch to explode. The trees were twisted, growing in strange patterns, and the sky above was constantly shifting in color—sometimes pink, sometimes green, and sometimes both at once.

I knew what I wanted. I needed something... sharp, something dangerous, something that could cut through anything, even the dullness of this new Heaven.

I walked deeper into the forest, feeling the fabric of reality bending around me. With a flick of my wrist, I reached out and grabbed a piece of reality itself—a chunk of existence that shimmered and distorted in my hand like a broken mirror reflecting a thousand different worlds.

As soon as I took it, the forest seemed to shiver, time and space twisting like I'd cranked the universe's Rubik's Cube. A low hum filled the air, and I grinned. "Perfect."

I needed a place to work, so I headed over to the edge of the Divine Forest, where a grumpy old blacksmith had set up shop. He was one of those ancient gods who didn't bother with all the heavenly politics and drama. Just him, his forge, and a bad attitude.

I stomped up to his forge, the chunk of reality still crackling in my hand. "Hey, old man," I called, "mind if I use your smithing table?"

He looked up from the red-hot blade he was working on, squinting at me with his one good eye. "What's a kid like you want with my table?"

I shrugged. "I'm making a toy."

He grunted, his face a mix of confusion and disapproval, but he nodded. "Fine. Just don't burn my place down."

"Deal," I said, walking over to his workspace. I laid the chunk of reality on the table. It glowed with a strange, otherworldly light, and I could feel it humming with raw power. "Alright, let's see what we can do with you."

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I didn't need any tools. I just pressed my hands against the piece of reality, feeling it warm under my touch. I started to mold it, my fingers moving like I was shaping clay. The material resisted at first, but I knew how to coax it, how to press and pull just right.

Bit by bit, it began to take shape. A blade, long and sleek, with an edge that gleamed like starlight. I kept at it, working the material until it had a sharp, curved form—like a katana, even though no one had ever made one before. I liked the look of it, sleek and dangerous.

"Yeah," I muttered, turning it over in my hands. "This'll do nicely."

I continued to mold and hammer with my hands, the rhythm steady and purposeful. The blacksmith watched out of the corner of his eye, his expression slowly shifting from annoyance to something like reluctant admiration.

After a while, I held up the finished blade. "There," I said, satisfied. I'm gonna name this thing Inochi No Ha. The Blade of Life. Inochi for short.

It shimmered, an ethereal glow running along its edge. I could feel its power humming through my fingertips—a blade that could cut through anything, even the threads of fate itself. But there was something missing, something that would make it truly unique.

I leaned over the blade and breathed onto it, a puff of divine essence. "Alright, Inochi. Time to wake up."

The blade suddenly vibrated in my hand, and a soft, feminine voice rang out, echoing in my mind. "Who dares disturb my slumber?"

I grinned. "That would be me."

The blade paused for a moment, then continued. "And why, may I ask, would a child such as yourself create something like me? You've distorted reality, fractured space and time. You cannot simply—"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, gods, not another lecture. I get enough of that from the others."

Inochi kept going, undeterred. "It is highly irresponsible to meddle with the fabric of existence! You are but a child playing with forces beyond—"

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before," I interrupted, turning to the blacksmith. "Hey, old man, you got a sheath? I need something to shut her up."

He chuckled, reaching under his workbench. "Got one here, but you owe me for it. That blade of yours is something special."

I took the sheath and slid Inochi into it, muffling the voice mid-sentence. "There we go," I said with a satisfied sigh. "Much better."

Inochi's voice was muffled but still indignant. "You cannot silence me! I am the Blade of Life! I will—"

I held up the sheathed sword, smirking. "Yeah, yeah, you'll what? Poke me to death?"

The blacksmith laughed, a deep, rumbling sound. "You're a strange one, boy. But I gotta admit, you've got talent."

"Damn right I do. And now I've got a toy that talks back."

I walked out of the forge, feeling pretty pleased with myself. As I wandered back into the Divine Forest, I could still hear Inochi's muffled protests coming from the sheath. I'd figure out what to do with her later. For now, I had a new toy to play with, and that was all that mattered.

I could already imagine the looks on the other Gods faces when they saw what I'd made. Maybe they'd be impressed. Maybe they'd be pissed. Either way, it'd definitely shake things up, and that was exactly what I needed.

As I wandered deeper into the Divine Forest, still chuckling at Inochi's muffled protests from the sheath, I stumbled upon something I hadn't seen in a while—the Tree of Immortality. The tree stood tall and ancient, its trunk wide enough to house a small village. Its branches stretched high into the ever-shifting sky, leaves shimmering with a golden hue. This wasn't just any tree; it was the source of the legendary Dragon Tangerines.

The fruits dangled from the branches like tiny suns, each one glowing with a vibrant, almost otherworldly orange. Dragon Tangerines were said to grant immortality to anyone who ate them. Of course, I already had immortality, but that didn't mean I couldn't make things more... interesting.

I grinned, looking up at the fruits. "Well, why not?" I muttered to myself. "A little extra insurance never hurt anyone."

I leapt up, grabbing a branch with ease and plucking a few Dragon Tangerines. I started munching on one, the tangy juice bursting in my mouth with a flavor that was almost electric. It had a kick to it, a fiery taste that reminded me of why they were called 'Dragon' Tangerines. I didn't stop at just one. I grabbed a dozen more and began eating them like candy.

"One, two... twelve," I counted, juice dripping down my chin. With each tangerine, I could feel the layers of reality around me shifting subtly, like I was stacking bricks onto an already indestructible wall.

After devouring two dozen Dragon Tangerines, I licked the juice off my fingers, feeling the energy surge through me. "Alright," I said, patting my stomach, "that's twelve more layers of Absolute Immortality. Can't say no to that."

Inochi, still in her sheath, let out a resigned sigh. "You are truly insufferable, child."

I laughed, continuing my stroll. "And yet, you're stuck with me."