Matsuo strolled through the nighttime streets of Tokyo, breathing in the fresh air with satisfaction.

Ah, life could be so beautiful.

Three days had passed since he'd left Hiroshi's apartment, and everything was going perfectly.

He had informed the creator gods of the latest developments with a short written message.

Naturally, he had made sure to emphasize once again just how hard he had tried and how extraordinarily disappointed he was that things hadn't worked out with his protégé. Truly unfortunate. But perhaps he would have better luck at the next tournament in a hundred years.

His little monkey messengers had returned without a reply, but Matsuo took that as a good sign. Presumably, the two of them simply had nothing more to add to his message.

Of course, he could have delivered the news in person, but he was a very busy god, after all, and a written message was simply far more efficient.

All right, maybe he hadn't been particularly eager to face them in person either.

But if it had been necessary, he obviously would have done it.

Really.

But back to the important things.

Matsuo had spent a fantastic night at a street festival. There had been good food, even better sake, and most importantly, plenty of people whose tongues had loosened with every cup. He had listened to their stories, laughed and raised his cup with them, and some of their tales had been thoroughly entertaining.

The past few days had been remarkably pleasant as well. His good mood had even inspired him to personally take care of several prayers at his shrine.

If that wasn't proof that he took his divine duties seriously, he didn't know what was.

He stepped aside for two drunken office workers supporting each other as they stumbled down the street. Judging by the time, they had long since missed the last train, but neither of them seemed particularly bothered by it. They were laughing loudly enough for their voices to echo through the street.

Matsuo grinned.

Hiroshi would probably have wrinkled his nose at the sight.

Although, no. Hiroshi probably wouldn't even be out on the streets at this hour. He would have been in bed long ago, making sure he got his prescribed number of hours of sleep.

What a bore.

Matsuo's smile faded slightly.

Why was he still thinking about him anyway?

He gave his head a small shake, as if that could chase the thought away.

Forgotten and in the past.

Only then did Matsuo notice that his steps had carried him away from the busy streets. The voices and music from the festival had grown quieter until he eventually found himself in a small, secluded park.

After all the commotion, he enjoyed the sudden peace. With his hands in his pockets, he continued strolling along, whistling the melody of an old folk song that people at the festival had been loudly singing earlier.

Halfway through the next verse, he fell silent.

A tingling sensation crept across the back of his neck.

Matsuo stopped.

His gaze swept through the park, and the easygoing expression he'd worn only moments ago vanished, replaced by razor-sharp attention.

Something moved between the trees.

A figure slowly emerged from the shadows.

"Who are you? Show yourself!" Matsuo called.

His fingers tensed almost imperceptibly at his sides.

"Calm down, old friend," a soft voice replied.

Matsuo recognized it immediately.

The tension left his shoulders as the figure stepped farther into the light and he recognized Inari.

Her long, golden-brown hair shimmered in the moonlight. Unlike Matsuo, she wore a flowing kimono even now, decorated with delicate patterns, its fabric brushing lightly over the ground with every step.

She came closer.

With each step, the colors around Matsuo seemed to fade a little more. The green of the trees lost its vibrancy, the lantern light grew paler, and even the sounds of the city drifted farther and farther away.

Matsuo knew this effect.

If humans walked through the park now, they would neither see nor hear him or Inari. They were on an intermediate plane, somewhere between the human and spiritual worlds.

He didn't like it.

Normally, his friend visited him under far more comfortable circumstances. Most of the time, she came carrying a drink or some kind of treat, and she certainly didn't announce herself by dragging him into an in-between world in the middle of the night.

This time, there was no sign of drinks or food.

"Matsuo," she said with a knowing smile.

Not good.

"They are, to put it mildly, very angry with you."

And just like that, her smile disappeared.

Matsuo didn't need an explanation to know who she meant.

Still, he put on his most carefree expression.

"But why? The human didn't want to participate. That wasn't my fault. I fulfilled my duty, so there's absolutely no reason—"

Inari raised one hand and pointed a finger toward the sky.

Matsuo fell silent.

Slowly, he followed her gaze.

The clear night sky from moments ago had vanished. Heavy, dark clouds had gathered above them, and the wind suddenly tore through the trees with enough force to make the branches groan overhead.

Within moments, nothing remained of the pleasant spring night.

Matsuo swallowed.

"I was hoping I'd reach you in time," Inari said in an almost casual singsong voice. "But apparently, I didn't."

"What do you mean—"

He didn't get any further.

A deafening crack tore through the silence.

A bolt of lightning as thick as a tree trunk struck right beside him.

The force knocked Matsuo off his feet. Heat tore through the sleeve of his jacket and scorched the fabric before he could even fully register the pain.

Then came the burning.

"Dammit!"

Matsuo pushed himself upright and touched his cheek. Something warm ran across his skin.

When he pulled his hand away, dark blood clung to his fingers.

He stared at it.

Humans couldn't hurt him like this.

But divine power?

That was another matter entirely.

Dark, burned marks also ran along his arm, the pain pulsing all the way into his shoulder.

Above them, the sky crackled again.

Matsuo's gaze shot upward.

The clouds were still there.

Worse, they looked as though they were already charging up for another strike.

Inari, meanwhile, stood completely unharmed a few steps away. Thoughtfully rubbing her chin, she looked first at the impact crater and then at Matsuo.

"Interesting."

Matsuo stared at her.

As so often happened, he couldn't decide whether his friend was concerned or thoroughly entertained.

His cheek throbbed painfully.

Either way, the message had come through loud and clear.

Matsuo just had no idea what he was supposed to do now.

Suddenly, a small light flared to life behind Inari.

A fox spirit appeared between the trees and hurried toward her. Inari immediately crouched down and ran her fingers through its fur while the little creature made soft, cooing sounds.

She listened carefully.

Then her expression changed.

A genuine smile appeared on her lips.

"Oh."

Matsuo liked that "oh" even less than her previous smile.

Inari straightened and turned toward him.

"Your little human just visited one of my shrines."

Matsuo blinked.

"What?"

Her smile widened.

"Apparently, he's trying to contact you."

Author's Note 

Apparently, no reply did not mean everything was fine.  

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