Matsuo

The air began to shimmer, as though invisible sparks had been scattered through it.

"The chosen ones will recognize themselves by the glowing scroll that will appear in their hands within the next few moments."

A collective intake of breath swept through the gathering.

Matsuo raised an eyebrow with curiosity. Not that he wanted to participate, quite the opposite. Still, he couldn't help wondering who would be chosen this time.

His gaze wandered through the crowd, passing ancient faces and younger deities who longed for glory.

Then he felt it.

A faint tingling in the palm of his hand and a soft golden light appeared between his fingers.

Matsuo flinched.

A glowing golden scroll rested in his hand.

"All deities who have been chosen should now be holding their scrolls," the voice announced, still echoing above the gathering. "The others will be informed as the Celestial Tournament progresses and, of course, remain welcome to attend every trial and every celebration. For now, however, we wish to speak with the chosen participants."

A quiet murmur spread through the crowd. Some gods looked around eagerly, while others seemed disappointed that they had not been selected.

Matsuo was still staring at the scroll in his hand. The parchment radiated a gentle warmth, almost as though it intended to brand itself into his skin. He blinked in disbelief.

"You can't possibly be serious," he muttered under his breath.

One after another, soft popping sounds echoed through the garden, each followed by a faint shimmer as many of the gods disappeared. Only a small circle remained behind: those deities who played a fixed role in every Celestial Tournament.

Inari was among them. She, too, held a scroll in her hands, her expression calm yet attentive. A glimmer danced in her golden eyes as she studied the seal. No one dared to move or speak before the next instructions were given.

"Now then, let us proceed with the next steps."

That finally pulled Matsuo back to reality. His heart pounded, and the sake in his veins seemed to boil. He lifted his head and spoke loudly.

"You can't seriously mean this!"

Several heads turned toward him.

"We settled this centuries ago. My role in these tournaments has always been to organize the celebrations," he continued, his voice firmer now, though still filled with disbelief. "Don't get me wrong—I love humans. I enjoy spending time with them. I enjoy drinking with them. But this whole tournament business? Spending an entire month training a human to become a hero?"

He shook his head and lifted the glowing scroll slightly, as though trying to hold it up in front of the unseen faces of the Creator Gods.

"That has never been my thing. It has never been my responsibility. I organize the feasts, the food, the sake! That was our agreement, and it has been respected ever since this tradition began. So why, exactly, do I suddenly have to participate?"

His voice echoed across the garden, louder than he had intended.

For a brief moment, silence fell.

The kind of perfect, divine silence that seemed to make even the air hold its breath.

Then another sound echoed through the garden, deeper this time, carrying an unmistakable weight. A voice thundered across the gathering with such overwhelming force that even the ground seemed to tremble.

"Matsuo-no-Kami," Izanagi spoke, and the sound of his name rolled across the garden like thunder over water. "Are you challenging our decision?"

Matsuo felt his throat go dry.

Of course it was a rhetorical question.

Only a fool would attempt to answer it.

The voice continued, colder now, utterly uncompromising.

"We decide which deities shall participate. We alter agreements whenever we deem it necessary. And you, Matsuo, have long forgotten what it means to be a god."

A chill ran down his spine.

Even so, he raised his head.

"With all due respect," he replied quietly but firmly, "I understand humans better than you do."

A murmur rippled through the gathered deities. Even Inari blinked in surprise, though there was a trace of admiration in her eyes. Matsuo knew he was playing with fire, but he had never been good at obeying without question.

"No," the voice answered, lower now, carrying a quiet threat. "You do not."

"You do not know them better. Yes, you spend time with them. You drink with them. You laugh with them. But you no longer listen."

"You have forgotten what humans truly feel. You no longer know what stirs their hearts, what drives them, or what they fear."

Matsuo opened his mouth to reply, but the voice continued, each word cutting through the silence like glass.

"You have forgotten what it means to fulfill the duty of a god: to inspire, to give hope, to show the way. When was the last time you did any of those things, Matsuo-no-Kami? The prayers at your shrine have long been answered by your attendants. And you attend our gatherings only when it suits you. Your composure has become complacency."

Matsuo pressed his lips together.

He knew every single word was true.

"We have made our decision," the voice said at last. "You will participate. There is nothing to debate. We may choose any deity, great or small. And this time, Matsuo, we have chosen you."

The words lingered in the air long after the voice had fallen silent.

Matsuo was just considering whether it was worth raising another objection when he suddenly felt a hand rest on his shoulder.

He turned around.

Amaterasu, the Goddess of the Sun, stood beside him. She looked at him with a calm expression and gave the slightest shake of her head. Around them, the other chosen deities had already formed an orderly line, making it clear that the next stage was about to begin.

Open defiance would be pointless.

Matsuo drew a slow breath, cleared his throat, and quietly took his place among them.

Then Izanami's voice rang out once more, and this time it sounded almost amused.

"Now that we have heard everyone's opinions and reached our decision, there is one more thing you should know before opening your scrolls."

"Inside each of your scrolls, you will find a brief description of a particular human. The reason these individuals have been chosen is simple: they will challenge you, and there exists a certain bond between each of you."

"Your task is to train your chosen human for one month, prepare them for the trials, and, at the same time, learn from them."

"Discover why we have paired them with you, and you will move forward."

"How you choose to train them is entirely up to you. However, we expect you to spend as much time as possible with your human throughout the coming month."

Matsuo listened, but his thoughts were already racing.

All right, he thought. Let them have their way. This isn't so bad.

He would simply make sure his human lost all interest in the Celestial Tournament. Maybe he could even scare them off enough to make them withdraw after the very first trial. Sure, every human dreamed of becoming a hero, but perhaps Matsuo could strip away the romance of that dream by painting an outrageously exaggerated picture of all the dangers and risks involved.

"Every deity who has been chosen will participate," the male voice declared firmly. "Only we may decide when a participant's involvement comes to an end. Should we gain the impression that either party is not taking this task—or the honor that comes with it," he emphasized the word, "seriously, a great punishment will be imposed. None of you would wish to face such a punishment."

The words settled over the garden like a heavy weight.

A cold shiver ran down Matsuo's spine.

So much for his plan of avoiding the tournament by refusing to take part. Reluctantly, he let go of the hope of getting out of this unscathed.

"Now, take the time to look inside your scrolls," the voice concluded.

At a signal, every chosen deity raised their scroll and carefully broke the seal.

Matsuo had no intention of opening his at first. In the end, however, curiosity got the better of him. If he really wanted to find a way out of this tournament, he at least needed to know who he was dealing with. Perhaps he could still convince his chosen human to throw in the towel.

He broke the golden seal, unrolled the parchment, and looked at the portrait.

For a long moment, he simply stared at it.

Then he read the text beneath it.

Then he read it again.

Finally, he turned the scroll over, examined the back, found nothing, and looked at the front once more.

With every line, his frown grew deeper.

The goddess's voice rang out once again, solemn this time.

"You will now have a few days to become acquainted with your chosen humans. After that, our messengers will inform you of the first trial. Remember, this tournament is held only once every hundred years, during the season of the cherry blossoms, which symbolize new beginnings. Let this tournament become a new beginning for you as well, and face it with an open heart."

With those words, the divine figures behind the veil slowly faded away.

The chosen deities remained behind in silence, each holding their own scroll.

Inari stepped over to Matsuo and leaned in slightly, trying to peek over his shoulder.

"So? Which lucky soul did you end up with?" she asked with a smile that barely concealed how much she was enjoying his reaction. The amusement in her voice was impossible to miss.

"This has to be an insult," Matsuo muttered.

She raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? Is it really that bad?"

"Bad?" He sighed and rubbed his temple. "This is, without question, the most boring human I've ever seen. How is this wallflower supposed to have anything in common with me?"

Inari let out a soft laugh, light and almost musical.

"Ha. Very funny," he grumbled, rolling up the parchment again before slipping it into the sleeve of his robe.

He couldn't believe that an evening which had begun so pleasantly was ending like this.

Author's Note

Well....Looks like he'll have to spend the next month with a human after all.

As always, thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed the chapter, I'd really appreciate a like, a comment, or a subscription. It helps the series grow and reach more readers.

See you in the next chapter!