Another moonless night, the black sky only littered with sparkling stars, each one happy to not be outshone. Without the moon, without Tsukuyomi, everywhere was plunged into darkness each night. And it was all my fault. I’d angered the moon deity.

Boots tapping across a stone bridge, echoing between the trees; the dark would not keep me from my goal. I passed over a stream gurgling, giggling at my misfortune; it erupted into laughter as my boot crashed into the cold water, sinking deeper into the mud and pulling me down until I wrenched myself away. I scrabbled around, arms out, feeling for anything to help pull me free. My fingertips grazed a rock and held enough, gripping tight, as I found my way out and back to the path.

Ahead, the trees surrounding me thinned, the path widening to a long staircase. Wet and muddy, I slowly made my way up the ancient steps, feeling the air around me change. It was subtle at first, like an incoming storm, and my skin prickled. A few more steps and it became nearly impossible to endure.

I am not wanted here.

And yet, I continued.

My legs were heavy now, dragged down by the weight of the air, by my responsibility, by the sheer exhaustion I felt from doing this at every shrine. This was the seventh now, one for each of the phases of the visible moon. If this didn’t work…

“Please,” I begged, feeling close to the torii gate. Once I passed that, I’d be in the realm of the gods. “Let me in.”

I pressed onwards, panting with exertion. I had to make it through, had to talk to Tsukuyomi.

The torii gate loomed above now, the air hummed with magic. I was at the threshold of mortals and gods, ready to serve, as always. At least in this form.

Fire erupted in a crackling whoosh, the stone lanterns lining the steps now lit up brightly. I yelped, falling to my knees, and scrunched my eyes tight, blinded. It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust, to see the shrine before me, welcoming and warm.

I didn’t waste time climbing the last of the steps, making my way up the steep hill to the highest part of the town. From the top I could see buildings sprawled out between the treetops, obscuring my view. This was a place of solitude, of reverence, not for us to look down on others.

“Tsukuyomi,” I called to the sky, “hear me, please.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry,” I continued. “I shouldn’t have killed him in your light. But you told me… I had no choice… I was exhausted, it was the perfect chance. I didn’t want to.” Then I added quietly, “I loved him.”

Silence.

“But I did it for you, so I could keep living. Just like you wanted.” I growled in frustration, “what more do you want from me? Show yourself! How many times must I do this?”

Silence.

I’d had enough of this. I wasn’t sure what else I could do. How did you get a god to listen?

Dejected, I sat down on the steps and rested. Every shrine had been the same, empty, the gods just out of reach. Did I keep going, or…

After a while I stood and walked to the first building, the haiden. It was small and adorned sparsely, the whole shrine showed signs of disuse, despite being in a large town. Before I stepped up, I stopped to bow to the two large komainu who guarded it, their lion-dog faces pulled into a snarl and watching me carefully. Holding my breath, I took tentative steps closer, hoping they’d let me past. So far, I was safe. I dug into my pockets for a handful of koban, then slipped the money into the donation box. With two hands, I grabbed the thick rope and rang the bell, the clang calling out in the quiet, perhaps enough to stir the gods. Two bows, two claps, and I pressed my hands together in prayer.

Tsukuyomi, I am a devoted follower after the gift you gave us. Please give us guidance, mercy, or even just a sign you are listening.

One final bow, and I was done.

I felt hollow, exhausted, and alone. It would be a long walk back.

With my heart still heavy, I began the descent. I could feel magic starting to ebb away from me, leaving me cold. The shrine’s sacred magic breathed a warmth into me that human magic couldn’t. Here I didn’t need to hide my true nature, my true self. The gods saw right through me—not that I had anything to hide from them. They’d given me what I wanted. I wasn’t going to waste this chance.

The other gods… would they bless me instead? Perhaps Tsukuyomi’s siblings, Amaterasu or Susanoo. I’d felt their magic lingering at previous shrines; however, they didn’t like him. Why would they offer me help?

The last red torii gate still stood strong as I passed beneath, its colour muting in the dying light. The fire behind me flickered lower, until I was left in the dark once again. A magical emptiness in my chest reminded me I was back to normal, that I walked among the humans, ones I wasn’t the safest from right now. It had been three… four? weeks since I had killed, since I’d immersed my body in human magic to keep living like this. Every kill loosened my soul, and being around humans made it harder to keep it attached. I needed isolation, to hide away and rest, but speaking to Tsukuyomi was my priority. Only after that would I allow myself to disappear.

Making my way back to the town was easier than my arrival, the shrine pushed me out, eager to get rid of me. Soon I found myself back at the ryokan I was staying at; I’d picked it for being the only inn without an onsen. The steaming water didn’t reach this part of town, and instead, it offered a room with a deep wooden bath. It didn’t take me long before I was soaking in it, washing away the pain of the shrine. It wasn’t as enjoyable as an onsen, but I hadn’t been able to enjoy it since that night.

The water was deliciously hot, just how I liked it. Sweat rolled down Ryoichi’s naked body, tempting. I followed the drops from his brow, caressing his body just how I wanted to. I shifted, straddling his lap and winding my arms around his neck. He looked up at me then, wide eyes and a growing smirk.

“Hotaka,” he had said, happy.

He thought he knew how the evening would end, how it should have ended. Sweet confessions of poetic love, tainted with blood.

I miss him. It still hurts.
Maybe he’d taken a part of my soul with him. It would explain why it felt looser than normal after a kill. I felt like I was falling apart, breaking into a thousand pieces.

After my bath, I slipped into a navy-blue yukata, leaving it slightly loose. The summer months were always tough on the skin, and despite not feeling the heat much, I spent a lot of time sweating. A downside to a human body.

My stomach grumbled with hunger, and I cursed myself for staying out too late. I would need to return to the town for food as mealtime was long over at the ryokan. I quickly shoved my purse of koban into my obi and head for the door, stopping only to switch from slippers to wooden geta in the entranceway.

It was the sixth month of the year—I’d have to wait until nearly midnight for the summer sky to be dark enough to talk to Tsukuyomi—and the streets were brimming with people, excited, ecstatic, the energy from them palpable. They travelled in groups, families, all heading in the same direction. Part of me wanted to check them all for magic, the habit deeply ingrained after so long. My stores were full enough for now, but I could never be too careful. Without magic I couldn’t live like this; I probably couldn’t live at all. I’d been warned never to use it all and I’d taken it seriously.

For tonight, I didn’t have to find another mark. My mind was too full, and his magic was serving me well enough. But not my stomach, which growled ever louder.

“Please,” I grumbled under my breath. “I will find something soon.”
I followed the crowds towards the market in search of food stalls. Each person was without a care, happily buried in whatever thoughts they had. It was fascinating and confusing. The moon didn’t hang in the sky anymore. Did they not miss it? Are they not worried? Tsukuyomi did so much for them and their world. And yet here they were: laughing, playing, fanning themselves from the stuffy heat.

The smell of fish led me to a nearby stall where the owner stood behind a grill, cooking raw fish. Taking a selection and two sticks of dango from the stall opposite, I stood enjoying the food and quelling the anger of my stomach. With the lingering taste of the sweet rice treat on my lips, I started to walk back to the ryokan until a booming thrum forced me to stop.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

I winced. I’d mistimed my visit here.

A second, third, fourth wadaiko joined in, the drumming clear in the night. Somewhere, a new chorus followed: flutes, the metal clang of atarigane, and a deeper drumming boom of oodaiko. Finally came the call of voices. Dokkoisho! Dokkoisho!

Heave ho! Heave ho!

The words only called during a festival.

I tried to run, but was stopped only by the throngs of people heading towards me. Children jumped full of excitement, I had to weave to avoid them, trying to get as far away as I could. Just a little further. It was hard not to feel the energy of the town as the festival began; even from here it lured me in, the beat wrapping around my soul. Such pure energy from humans, I couldn’t resist it. I felt my body protesting, wanting to join the festival. We hadn’t seen one in so long… surely just one night would be fine? Summer always had the best festivals. The almost magical atmosphere had surprised me at first; I’d never felt anything like it in the human world before.

I stopped. Again, voices were calling, dokkoisho! Dokkoisho! The wadaiko were booming in time with my heartbeat; I could see the men striking them in time with each other, their movements perfect. All the musicians played their part, luring the crows closer. My feet followed effortlessly as I was swept along. I could hardly move within the crush of people, but it wasn’t suffocating. I enjoyed the closeness. I felt part of something bigger than myself, bigger than Hotaka.

Mesmerised by everything around me, my voice joined with the return call. “Dokkoisho! Dokkoisho!”
Now in a wider street, a new light surrounded me as bamboo poles carrying hundreds of lanterns passed us by. To the beat they were suddenly hefted upwards, swaying as the men who carried them rested the poles on their shoulders. With another call they were raised higher, new poles adding to the bottom, the lanterns sailing higher into the moonless sky. The words slipped from my mouth. The sight of the golden lanterns struck me deep, each one like a moon of it’s own. Three, four times they were raised again until they filled the starry sky.

I called from my soul: dokkoisho! Dokkoisho!

The feeling was a balm for my heart. I’d been so caught up dealing with Tsukuyomi, I forgot why I wanted to be around humans in the first place. Their lives were short and they put all their energy into everything they did. War, love, sex; I’d experienced so much, and yet so little. With Hotaka, we’d have a lifetime to consume it all.

Maybe there was more for us here than chasing after a god who didn’t want to listen. I needed to forget about Tsukuyomi, for a short while at least. Humans would provide as they always had. And if Tsukuyomi still doesn’t want to listen after… I would call out to Amaterasu or Susanoo. I’d done everything Tsukuyomi had said: I’d killed, I’d hunted down his enemies, and now he ignored me.

Perhaps I would even call for Ukemochi instead. They hated Tsukuyomi for ruining the feast summoned for him. After spitting out fish and game from their mouth and pulling more food from other orifices, Tsukuyomi had been disgusted and murdered them. Amaterasu had been furious at her brother for killing the deity of food and he hid away and only showed himself during the night. As I flew the skies, I felt as the sun and the moon blazed and froze the air in their wrath. Below us all, the humans scrambled around desperate to appease them, building shrines and praying each day. Fear left them wide eyed and obedient, begging for stability once again. All those centuries before I’d been fearful too, hiding above the clouds, wishing I could help those small helpless creatures.

Perhaps now was my chance, I could offer Ukemochi information for advice, for help in keeping this body alive at all costs.

Allegiance counted for nothing when survival meant everything.

And I always survive.

“Do you hear that Tsukuyomi?” I growled. “I always survive.”

I snapped out of my thoughts as a new, faster beat boomed, deeper still. My soul wanted to be free again; I could feel it fluttering in my core, loosening from the body. The spell of the night sought to free my true self to all the people, to undo all that we’d endured. I’d spent too long watching the humans from afar for this to happen now. How would anyone want to be around us if they knew the truth?

They cannot see me.
I started to panic, I needed to escape, but I was caught in the dizzying trap of people and voices and the continual beat of the music. It lulled me side to side, the vibrations resonating in my chest, warming my soul. Everyone’s eyes followed me, watching as we feebly pushed through a crowd to find another. There was no escape. My vision blurred. All I could see was swaying lights going back and forth then back and forth. We can’t escape.

Let it take you, Hotaka. I always survive.