Enough was enough.

Hiroshi couldn't take it anymore.

If the first day had already been a disaster, the two days that followed had proven that apparently, things could always get worse. No matter what he did or how tightly he clung to his carefully established routine, nothing worked the way it was supposed to anymore.

Elevators broke down. His faucet, which had worked perfectly for years, suddenly started leaking and flooded most of his bathroom floor overnight. At work, he had made mistakes in his calculations. Several of them. His boss had pointed them out with a shake of his head and then teasingly asked where Yamada-san's mind had been lately.

Hiroshi hadn't had an answer.

And had he mentioned the food poisoning?

Of course, it had been his usual bento, the one he'd been buying regularly for months, that had given it to him. He had spent most of the night between the second and third day kneeling in front of the toilet, his knees eventually completely soaked because the bathroom floor was still wet thanks to that damn faucet.

He was done.

And it wasn't as though he hadn't tried to set things right.

Hiroshi wasn't stupid, after all.

Something had gone wrong that evening with Matsuo. There was no other way he could explain this string of disasters anymore. By now, it felt as though not only fate, but the entire Shinto pantheon had personally conspired against him.

On the second day, he had already visited a larger shrine after work. He had prayed, left a very generous offering, and apologized for anything he might possibly have done.

Hell, he'd even helped sweep the grounds.

Nothing.

Apparently, he had somehow managed to lose the gods' favor, and no amount of thoroughly swept shrine grounds seemed capable of changing that.

By the time Hiroshi finally left the office on the evening of the third day, he was walking with a slight limp. During his lunch break, he had slipped on a wet patch and twisted his ankle. At least, he hoped it was only sprained.

As if that hadn't been enough, a truck drove through a puddle on his way home and splashed him from head to toe with dirty street water.

Hiroshi stood completely still on the sidewalk for several seconds, water dripping from the ends of his hair.

Then he kept walking.

He didn't have the energy to be angry about it anymore.

This time, his destination was an Inari shrine Nakamura-san had once mentioned. It was quite popular in the area because prayers offered there were supposedly answered particularly often.

Normally, Hiroshi would have responded to a claim like that with nothing more than a polite smile.

By now, his opinion of supposedly supernatural things had changed considerably.

Besides, he wasn't here to offer an ordinary prayer.

He wanted to reach a god.

Unfortunately, Matsuo hadn't left him a phone number. No address. No email address. Not even a remotely useful explanation of how one was supposed to contact a deity when said deity wasn't currently showing up uninvited in one's apartment.

And Matsuo's own shrine was in Kyoto.

Going there was out of the question.

By now, Hiroshi barely dared to cross Tokyo without expecting a flowerpot to fall on his head. What would happen if he actually tried to leave the city?

A train accident?

An earthquake?

A tsunami?

No, thank you.

So this had to work.

By the time Hiroshi entered the grounds of the Inari shrine, it was already late enough that there were no other visitors in sight. The buildings stood quietly beneath the lantern light, while the sounds of the city reached the grounds only faintly. Between the shadows, he could make out the silhouettes of fox statues watching over the shrine.

Hiroshi stopped for a moment.

"All right," he murmured. "Let's do this properly."

If he was going to try contacting one deity through another, the least he could do was avoid offending anyone else.

At the purification basin, he took the ladle provided and carefully cleansed first his left hand, then his right. Afterward, he symbolically rinsed his mouth without letting his lips touch the ladle, then tipped the remaining water over the handle.

At least that part worked.

Then Hiroshi stepped in front of the sanctuary.

He took a coin from his wallet and placed it in the offering box. After a brief hesitation, he added a second.

Better safe than sorry.

Then he bowed deeply twice, clapped his hands twice, and held them together in front of his chest.

Now came the difficult part.

What were you supposed to say to one deity when you actually wanted to speak to another?

Hiroshi closed his eyes.

Inari-sama, please excuse me for disturbing you at such a late hour.

He paused.

And please excuse me for the fact that my request isn't actually directed at you. I don't know if that's considered rude. If it is, I apologize for that as well.

This was already going wonderfully.

Hiroshi took a deep breath.

But I need to reach Matsuo.

His fingers pressed more firmly together.

Please tell him that I need to speak with him.

He opened one eye and cautiously glanced toward the sanctuary.

Nothing.

Of course not.

What had he expected? For a fox to suddenly appear and answer him?

Hiroshi closed his eye again.

It's urgent.

Still nothing.

He waited several seconds before finally lowering his hands and giving one last deep bow to conclude his prayer.

When he straightened again, he remained standing in front of the silent sanctuary.

"Please," he murmured.

After the past three days, there wasn't much left of his usually considerable pride.

"Just tell him to come."

Author's Note

Time to call a god. 👀
Thanks for reading! Love you guys!