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"He may be your cat but he still one of my subjects as the king of beasts," the Western god rumbled, glancing down at Yuta who had made himself comfortable nearby. "We just talked, that's all." And that word on what had transpired out by the farmland was final, he was not going to anything else on it even if Kiyoko probed him. He closed his mouth, watching and waiting for her to follow his instructions. He was silent when she went about gathering the ingredients, the tapping of the knife against the wooden board filling the room besides the crackling of the fire.

When the miko finally finished, he continued his instructions. "Smash the garlic with the side of your knife and peel it, do not cut it. Slice the chili as well, heat up the oil in the pan. Then, throw it in." His nose twitched. "Count thirty seconds, remove the chili. Add the chopped eggplant and stir-fry until the oil has been soaked up." He made sure to say the steps ahead, that way she would have to remember everything he said and hopefully learn how to make the dish herself one day. Nishibyakko wasn't always going to be instructing her how to make a simple meal every time.
 
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"I do know how to prepare garlic..." Kiyoko mumbled in reply to his following instructions, at a loss on what else to do but listen. Hitting the garlic laid on the table with the flat of the knife, she peeled off the skin with her fingers. The miko snuck a glance behind her. The sight of the white tiger didn't change, he still stood at the door while her cat seemingly watched her alongside him. And cooking in front of that strange pair that acted as an audience made her nervous. Looking away quickly, she hurried to follow the rest of Nishibyakko's words. He was firing them off rather fast, making her move quick in order to keep up. She still really didn't know if he was still furious or not, but he wasn't hissing and spitting mad now...

Oil for cooking was a precious luxury in these parts. The miko wasn't sure where the sudden pot of it had come from, since she was pretty sure she was almost out of it. After pouring some on the pan, the miko checked if the flickering embers underneath the stone stove would still be hot enough to work with. She poked and pushed at it with an iron poker, stirring the flames once again after throwing in some more wood. All the while, she was pretty sure she was inwardly sweating under the god and the temple cat's scrutiny. How the heck did Nishibyakko expect her to focus if he was watching her like a hawk?

Some time later when the pan had heated enough, she threw in the garlic and chili. Where did the chili come from? Shaking her head at the question that popped up, Kiyoko sighed and pushed the quickly sizzling ingredients with the spoon. Thirty seconds. She was supposed to take the chili out of the pan, now what? Eggplant? The oil hissed aloud again as the chunks were added, small bubbles forming and popping around the eggplant pieces. Stir fry meant pushing and pressing the chunks around on the pan...

She glanced at Nishibyakko, narrowing her eyes to herself as she looked away a moment later. "What brought this on now?" There was an edge to the girl's voice as she took the finished dish after all the oil had been 'absorbed' by the eggplant. She spooned it into a bowl after, setting it down on the table. "It's done." Kiyoko was a suspicious little thing this evening, and if the god realized it soon, she wasn't going to stop thinking about what had happened until enough time had passed. Though at least she wasn't the type of girl to cry in front of him after being shouted at.
 
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The god rolled his eyes at her. "Amaterasu would smite me if I let one of my miko die the worst way possible, by starvation." She had been forgiving of him enough, even with all he had done Nishibyakko was allowed to roam free on the land. He may be a major god with the power to control the season of autumn itself, as well as manipulating metal to his will and shape it like it was water, but Amaterasu was the goddess that gave rise to him as what he was now - a god. She was the mother of all gods and goddesses, the riser of the sun, who woke every morning and her face would bring light to the world. Without Amaterasu, there would be no seasons, no deities like him or the other three. He may be a rogue being now, but he still had an inch of respect left for the goddess of the rising sun - even if he did spit on her grave whenever he passed her by.

A orb manifested beside him, zipping through the air to hang beside the miko. "It is not done," he growled. "I never said it was." The orb shimmered and shivered like water before forming into some sort of clamp, taking the bowl from Kiyoko and dumping the contents out back into the pan. Nishibyakko's expression was calm, blinking at the priestess as the extension of the god did its work. It split itself into two, one forming a ladle and the other taking hold of the spatula. Pouring in a cup of water, it quickly closed the lid, letting the contents steam a little. The god idly picked at his nails, his tail swishing. "No wonder you cooked horribly," he sighed, exasperated with her.

After the water evaporated, he repeated the same process three times before lifting the lid after the third, letting the aroma fill the air. He lifted his nose high to smell it, and made a growl of contentment before pouring the dish back into the bowl, replacing it where Kiyoko had put it a few minutes before. The orb, the treasure of the Western god, disappeared without a trace, as if it had never existed in the first place.
 
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The miko jumped and startled, as was quickly becoming a habit with him, when the god suddenly growled. She took a hold of the bowl quickly, turning around to ask him what exactly was wrong with it? She had already followed his instructions to the letter as much as she could, down to counting to thirty just to measure the time it took to let the chili and garlic simmer in the pan! It looked plenty edible enough to her, albeit a little... Oily. It smelled somewhat good already with the chili and garlic lending strong scents, it didn't look burned to a crisp like it could have been. It could have been worse. Her eyes widened as a hovering shape moved forward, the girl recognizing it for what it was...

In the dark surroundings of the night prior, she had seen this very same metallic object. It rippled as if it was more of a liquid than a solid object that night, shifting rapidly from shape to shape until it finally claimed the lives of the two god hunters, staining the ground with their blood. The silver surface had been speckled liberally with red then. Kiyoko eyed it nervously, holding the bowl almost protectively in front of her. Just the memory of how deadly that could be sent a shudder down her back. Even if it had saved her life, the memory of it wasn't pleasant.

Now it was much more visible because of the soft glow of a lantern, and it looked as eerie as it had under the moonlight back then. She pushed the bowl forward upon realizing Nishibyakko meant to take it from her, stepping back and almost bumping against the table. "What did I do now?" Mouth curving downwards, the miko shot back a question as her eyes flickered with emotion. "It looks and smells okay to me-" Only now it seemed like it could smell even better, she realized with a halt as she looked from him to his 'helper' that stirred and maneuvered the ladle easily.

"... You've got a point." Spoken in as grudging and respectful a tone as she could muster, the look on Kiyoko's face could only be compared to a child chastised by a parent. "You use that orb for mundane tasks as well as -" She sent him a disturbed look, but not before she shot a glance at the successfully done food. "Killing god hunters?" Which was which? It looked and smelled good, and the orb hadn't even touched any of the food, but the whole thing now looked slightly, just slightly ridiculous. A god cooking with what was supposed to be his treasure.

"I've seen everything now," the girl declared to the air, and perhaps to Yuta who merely set his eyes on the food with an eager look. Kiyoko hesitated, before adding, "You could have told me to do the rest of that too." She wrinkled her nose at him almost childishly, before the look faded and she stared at him oddly. The air was still just a tad bit fishy and uncertain between them, or maybe it was just her. Nishibyakko looked back at her as steadily as always, something that the girl envied.
 
His glowing eyes blinked at her blankly. "I have paws. I do not have opposable thumbs, much less be able to hold something," the god pointed out with a sarcastic tone. "That orb is the extension of my will, if my will is to cook, then it will help me." Nishibyakko lifted his head high, the top of his head barely brushing against the ceiling of the room. "All gods have their treasures to assist them," he murmured, as if he was trying to educate her about the the world only humans could dream of. "Some have objects that you humans will recognize, while some have treasures like mine, solidified magic that only its owner can wield."

He stood up and licked his lips, sweeping the fur aside with a rough tongue. Like Yuta, he had his eyes set on the bowl of food that she - well, he had helped - prepared. It was steaming, the eggplant softened from the water and no longer as oily as it was before. It was going to taste juicy and a little salty and spicy, perfect for a day like this. Silently, he stared at the bowl alongside the temple cat, eyes flickering to the priestess before back at the dish sitting on the table just waiting to be eaten.
 
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Sadly, it looked like Nishibyakko wasn't too keen on breaking what silence there was afterwards. Kiyoko shifted her weight from one foot to the other, wincing as her eyes flickered to the exit from the kitchen to the bowl on the table. He was blocking her path to get out, and now that she wasn't too focused on cooking she had the time to fully take in how large he was as a white tiger. He practically dwarfed the table and other objects in the room from sheer size, making the kitchen feel small and crowded. His height when he was sitting with his head held high was enough to reach the ceiling, and because this was a temple, the ceilings weren't even low. And he had trouble even fitting in the doorway.

"... A-ah, aren't you going to move aside?" Grabbing the bowl, the girl then hissed, "Gah! Hot, hot hot!" She dropped it as carefully possible on a wooden tray, then dragged her gaze to Nishibyakko's face again in reluctance. "Well, I need to actually get out of the kitchen to set the table for us, you know." He was obviously eager to begin eating, as were the other two inhabitants of the temple. Though Kiyoko was more just eager to get the whole deal over with and retreat back to her room. Where he was going to shadow her with his presence once again later in the night.

The girl arched a brow at the god, pointedly waiting for him to heave himself out of the doorway and into the dining room. If she had been living alone - well, with Yuta - once again, she wouldn't even have to use the full dining room in here anyway. Unlike most homes in Ochiba, the wealthier Hayashi when they were still alive had admittedly nice houses. They had built it out of the good and sturdy wood from the trees that grew lushly in the forested areas, had built it with their own hands. The shoji doors and paper screens were made from paper that was yielded by their very own trees, the clothes were weaved and even dyed with anything they got from the land - or traded with the traders that used to come to the village.

She had been so startled to learn that she was actually a part of this family, looking from the outside in as a dirty and poor child raised by her mother. Everything looked so rich, the wood and the clothes, and even the food. Well, now that she lived alone the memories had tarnished somewhat, but the feeling was still memorable.

After the god had moved away, the girl huffed as she walked past him with the tray held in her hands. "Maybe you should transform to something easier to eat with first." He didn't have opposable thumbs in that form, as he told her so sarcastically. She went to get the bowls and the rice - the only thing she hadn't failed to cook the first time - from the kitchen. After everything was laid out on the table carefully, the miko sat across from him in terse silence. One thing that she hadn't failed to observe - as rude as he thought she was - was to wait for him, technically the 'guest' and 'master' of this place, to take the first bite and begin the meal. Kami forbid that she even forgot how to be a somewhat gracious host.
 
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He waited for the priestess to leave the kitchen with the food before moving out himself, squeezing between the door with slight difficulty and growling slightly at how the wooden frame rubbed against his fur the wrong way. Standing out on the patio gazing at the autumn scenery, he shook himself until his fur was delightfully fluffy again. Nishibyakko took his time heading towards the dining room, with Yuta already having gone ahead with his more nimble form. As a heavyweight cat, his paws caused the patio boards to creak under his weight, each step a new sound. His ears flickered as he followed the creak and the bend of the wood, his shoulders swaying as the majestic feline slowly made his way to the room where the aroma of food wafted out.

The sun had already set, and he could hear the crickets outside screeching and the rustling of the wind. If there were any youkai outside, they were respectfully quiet tonight. In the presence of a true god, they held their tongue and dared not cause trouble. Nishibyakko as a man was not as terrifying as Nishibyakko as what he truly was. The God of the West who almost glowed with holy light, each step either a pathway to growth and prosperity or rot and death. Just as he approached the dining room, he shifted with ease behind the screen door that stood between those who were inside and the god. From inside the room where Kiyoko waited, the shadow he cast would have made the tiger appear to stand up on his hind legs, fur shrinking and taking shape into cloth and silk, slicking back on his head in favor for a dark ponytail that swished like his tail.

The glow of a god still lingered when Nishibyakko stepped from behind the screen door into the room, his mouth and lips set in a firm line as he sat down. The light seemed to dim the longer he remained in the shape of a man, but the aura he radiated was god-like nevertheless. Folding his legs under him, he looked down at the food. A humble spread, but food he could eat. "I humbly receive," he murmured, holding his hands up in prayer before picking up his chopsticks.
 
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After Nishibyakko had picked up his own chopsticks, partaking of the food first, it felt a little easier to breathe in his presence. She couldn't even guess - well, she knew - at why being around his mere presence caused something in her to wound up uncomfortably tight. Heaving a sigh that sounded put-upon for someone of her age, the miko followed suit after him, breaking apart the chopsticks with a mumbled thank you. The dish of eggplant was placed between her and Nishibyakko at the center of the table, and after he had taken his own portions, she quickly picked up some pieces, putting it on top of the lightly steaming rice.

Yuta, being the only non-humanoid being sitting at the table, dipped his head down into his own bowl, his face openly showing his relish at getting to eat such food. Bowing her own head slightly, she picked up her own food with her chopsticks and took in a mouthful of rice and eggplant... Oh. This was really good, and she would have happily dug right in, but one person in the room made it glaringly obvious that an uneventful meal wasn't happening anytime soon. Now that he exuded some unearthly aura, that was even more difficult. He had just shifted back into a mortal shape, and now it looked like some leftover spiritual energy was poring off of him...

"..." Kiyoko wasn't sure how much of this oppressive silence she could take, especially considering he only stared back whenever she would sneak glances towards his face. Not a word at all, which considering his usual smartass remarks made it all the more suspicious.

The bowl clattered lightly on the table as she put it down, laying her chopsticks on top of it. "This isn't going to work." She winced at how the words seemed to tumble out, graceless as ever from her, into the open air. Even Yuta seemed to stop digging contentedly into his food, green eyes flickering upwards to stare at his mistress curiously. "So. What's the deal with earlier?" She waved her hand towards him, struggling to find actual words that could describe how disastrously their morning had ended. If he wasn't going to breach that topic, well, she couldn't rest well until something was said... Maybe. "Something about what I said pissed you off. Was it because you think I don't know your story?"

She raised her eyes to the ceiling, staring at it with unusual interest. "It's not as if I never hear about how horrible you are from other people, you know. There must be some truth in what they say if so many are saying it, but..." The girl shrugged, sending a half-hearted grimace at the blank expression stuck to his face. "I'm no perfect person or saint either. I can stick around with someone talked about badly and not care about it. 'Sides, aside from your shitty personality and manners you're kinda right. That was out of line earlier."
 
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With a bowl of steaming rice, the god generously piled on some of the eggplant side dish on top, eating slowly and making sure he was chewing, different from the usual shoveling of food Kiyoko would often have to see during their time dining together. A mouthful of rice followed by a chunk of eggplant, he uncharacteristically cooled his food before eating it, taking his time going through the massive mountain of rice he had in his bowl. However, his eyes were focused primarily onto the food, never once travelling up to meet the priestress'. It was awkward, but the god was simply not in the mood to be the one to initiate a conversation especially after such an uncomfortable situation the two had earlier.

He lowered his chopsticks when she spoke, pale eyes flickering up with such intensity in them that it looked like fire burning within. "By story, whose story do you listen to? They say only victors write history, but no one has won." Nishibyakko's aura flared with pride, "Of course, I would never lose to greedy humans," he said bluntly, as if he was challenging the mere idea of a mortal able to best a great god such as himself. "But if you only know the side of the humans you interact with, then you do not know what I have been through." The god fell a silent, narrowing his eyes at her. Thinking about those times was not healthy for the god, but at this point he didn't really care about sharing his tale. Whether or not they would be disgusted with him and lose faith in the god of autumn - the Western God expected everything.

"As a miko who worships me, I thought you would at least know the suffering of your god. It appears my expectations were too high. Being able to stick to someone who has a bad reputation should be a trait all humans have, but do you know the cause of that reputation from the eyes of the sinner?"
 
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The god's sudden intense stare caused the miko to falter almost, but not for the first time in her life, Kiyoko returned a stare that she wasn't willing to look away from. No matter how much the fire in his eyes burned so viciously, if he wasn't going to try and burn her with his hands then she would continue to stray as close to those flames as she could. To know the truth. Because the moths who wandered to close to the burning of the lanterns must have found something worth burning for inside. And once again, she wondered at this strange mix of bitterness and pride that made up this man known as a great god. He held his head high, but how many times must he once have hung his head while he was alone, beaten and broken on the inside? She refused to believe he was some invincible and infallible god.

"Try me." Her words started out as small and meek, almost, but with a quiet steel behind her voice that slowly grew in strength. "I could not care less if I hear it from the lips of the 'sinner' himself, because we are all rotten and disgusting inside in our own ways, aren't we? Even gods must have their days where they are failures as much as humans can be." There was bitter irony in her words, and if Nishibyakko was watchful, there was a silhouette of a glaring woman in white that seemed to blur with the miko's image, her unfamiliar features twisted in contempt. But Kiyoko didn't know this herself, and continued on with her tone turning into steel. And that strength may have been reckless or forced, but what did she have to lose? If he lost his temper in a fit of rage and killed her, what was one human life to join the rest of those who already died, as numerous as the leaves that fell day by day to the ground? She was just a number, a casualty among the rest of the world.

Shaking her head, she deliberately broke her held gaze from him and shrugged, the motion graceless and careless both. So he had high expectations of her, because he expected her to know of his story. "So you might as well try to speak as the sinner in this tale. And because I am this lowly and disgusting trash, I think I pretty much know if someone else is the same as I am. I don't like you as a person. You make it difficult to, but I'm stuck with you. And you're stuck with me for as long as you think you can handle staying in this place."

"I do have a selfish reason for wanting you to stay, of course." She quirked a tiny, taunting smirk at him, eyes returning to challenge his. "I want to understand why you are who you are, and I want to learn it right from the person himself. Why?" Letting that pause hang for a long moment between them, she slowly arched a brow. "Because it's only right for me to learn it for the sake of everyone who died here. I guess that means I still have to put up with you, despite whatever you do. So bring it. Your rage, your terribleness. I can take all of it. Just watch me."
 
The god blinked at her curiously. Those were not the words he had expected to come out from Kiyoko. He was used to her snarky, sassy comments that left him rolling his eyes and sighing, sometimes she tended to tire the god out. But what he received was surprising and also very out of character. He could have sworn the more he looked at her, the more she looked like someone else. They looked similar, but one held the expression of such ferocity and hatred that was completely different from the usual facial expressions of the miko he was used to. Her eyes seemed to teeter on the edges of death and life, dull eyes but with fiery irises like she was a demon from the depths of hell itself. Like an imagery cast by the god of the underworld, unrelenting and full of contempt.

"Interesting." It was all Nishibyakko had to say to her spiel. He leaned back into his seat and folded his arms, a strange quirk of his lips showing nothing of his thoughts. "You are an interesting human, quite different from the others of your kind." Raising a finger to point at her, he wagged it mockingly. "You call yourself 'selfish' but also say you want to learn about my history for the sake of other people? How contradictory. That only means you're either lying about your motives, or you really are interested in me."

"A little girl, interested in me? Ha!" the god burst into laughter. "You're speaking like a different person now. Are you sure you are Hayashi Kiyoko?"
 
Well, no one said this was going to be easy. Is he fucking arrogant enough to blind himself or what? In response to his open and lazy, dismissive posture, Kiyoko crossed her own arms and narrowed her eyes. "How do you know if the real person I am is the person you've been living with in the past weeks?" In all seriousness, the girl posed the question with an uncharacteristically stern glare. She was slightly baffled and insulted that Nishibyakko would even laugh in the face of her words, but that just sparked something inside her. Something that was convicted to prove him wrong, by fire or by ordeal. "Or is the hateful and immoral Nishibyakko the true god of Autumn?" She shot back the same question to him, eyes burning with an inner fire.

"A god that doesn't take anything seriously, thinking that each and every passing day would have no consequence for him! Maybe it wouldn't, but no, he only thinks that everything is some silly game. Maybe he forgot that everything under the heavens is subject to fate, even to the smallest living thing and even the great gods? Huh? Is that you, oh great, benevolent, and patient patron of the blacksmiths? Wise and practical? Or frivolous and petty? Hm?"
 
"I know what I know from your cat," he said, still trying to stifle laughter. "To you he may just be a loyal feline companion, but he speaks of you highly, more than just his owner." The god seemed to wave her threatening words aside, not even the least bit fazed, as if he had heard it all before. And he had. In his long life, he had seen and heard all the insults the human race could throw at him. Now he was tired, the Western god was forced to stay here in the temple to relax and wind down after years of running away from his enemies. It was almost amusing watching the girl run her mouth. "I've seen you talk to him, if that is not the real you, then what is?"

He sighed, refilling his bowl and adding more rice as he listened to her spew nonsense. "You know nothing about me, girl. Now stop talking like a stranger and eat the food." Just as there was an angry aura exuding from the priestess, one that did not match her personality and usual demeanor, the god's aura began to push back against it. This was a god who had fought countless battles, and it was almost as if those in the room would be able to feel the presence of a giant tiger, crouched low and ready to strike with sharp teeth bared. Nishibyakko did not lose often.
 
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She wanted to rail against the table, to physically turn it over on Nishibyakko and throw the rest of the food at his uncaring visage. He really didn't process anything out of her words, did he? Exhaling through her clenched teeth, she dragged the bowl towards her and turned her cheek. If she had to look at him for the rest of this meal, she was going to lose her appetite, or whatever there was left of it. "Don't fucking talk to me tonight." It was really going to grate on her later tonight that he was going to share her room with her. Why should he even care about staying in her room to look for enemies? Why would he watch over her?

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After they had finished through that ordeal of a dinner with each other, Kiyoko swept the bowls and the utensils with her without a look back. He could do as he wanted around the temple. She was done with this evening, and wanted nothing more than to retreat into her room. And preferably? Without him. With those silent brooding thoughts in the back of her mind, the miko left the now-cleaned bowls hanging on the wall to dry. She went into her room to see he still hadn't intruded in there to grab her sleeping yukata from the wooden box in the corner of the room, before fleeing quickly to the bath. She wasn't going to chance him coming across her yet again like earlier this morning.

Working through the tangled snarls of her hair - a courtesy of last night's struggles and her inability to properly care for the long brown tresses as she usually did - Kiyoko hissed to herself at one particular painful tangle. Her hair was a pain to manage when it came to times like these, but she didn't want to cut it. Her hair was one of her supposed redeeming traits to her appearance, and she had let it grow long ever since that time. It was usually silkier than this, but the last day's scrapes and tumbles on dirty surfaces and the activities then had left it a mess of long brown locks down her back.
She had untied it, leaving it loose down her back, reaching past her knees. It had grown startlingly long. ("Why don't you grow your hair longer than just past your shoulders? It would look great on you, Kiyoko-chan!") Shaking her head, she grabbed the black comb once again and pulled it down through her hair. Another matted section. Just how bad could a scramble like last night disturb her hair? Had those hunters dragged her on the ground for some time? Slipping the bath's door open, she walked past it with her comb still stuck through a troublesome part.

Once she was out and walking back to her own room, she tugged the comb through her hair again to no avail. "... Oh," she sighed and pulled the comb away with a pained grimace.
 
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He simply shrugged at her sentence and continued to eat silently, not wanting to speak to her - and it was her 'command' after all - and quickly helped the priestess devour the meal in front of them before she swept all of the dishes away and hurried out of the dining room. He stared after her blinking, before turning to look at her cat companion and shrugged. "Well, I tried." Nishibyakko's voice was tired and somewhat confused, unsure what had just happened. He wondered if her friend knew as well, the strangeness in the air. Was it the ghosts and spirits that lurked here as Yuta had said earlier? But the aura that radiated off from Kiyoko was not like hers, it was far more intimidating and filled with negative emotions. During his stay here, he had never felt that sort of emotion from her before. She may not like him, but this was a whole new level of negativity.

Normally, he'd ask for help from someone like Amaterasu, or the gods of luck and fortune. Or Omoikane. But Omoikane was a busy god, always travelling from household to household, as they were always being called upon to bring advice. And considering his position in the ranking of gods, he doubted the god of knowledge would come and help him. The god groaned as he got up, stretching before heading out to take a good walk around the temple before heading back to bed.

After remembering he had decided to relocate to Kiyoko's room after the whole ordeal yesterday, he left his empty room in the center of the temple back to the outer ring where she slept. The god silently swore at himself for forgetting, hoping the atmosphere wasn't going to be awkward in the middle of the night. Silently, he slid the door open and stepped inside, sighing with relief when he saw that she wasn't inside. Yuta had appeared to follow him through the open door, and the god decided to indulge in a conversation with at least a sane and understanding creature. "What was that all about? Did you sense anything strange or out of place with her?"
 
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The cat stared back at him unblinkingly, before cocking his head at the door, which was still left wide open. "Did you, Nishibyakko-sama?" That dinner hadn't been the most encouraging of all possible outcomes, and the miko was left none the better liking the kami. Or maybe Yuta was just gathering that from how she had exchanged words with the tiger, though the time before that - when they cooked - made it look like things were going to get better. She had listened to Nishibyakko's instructions, mostly obedient and attentive. But the dinner had told them both that it was still going to take more than just that. Especially since she had turned almost alien and unfamiliar, a stranger that wasn't his daughter, in a few of those moments.

"Kiyoko has her own things to explain to you, when the time comes. She is not always aware of what is happening." Snapping his mouth shut with a click, the cat made a sound in the back of his throat. Kiyoko did not always realize it. Which was a bad thing if the wrong person saw through it, but the miko had been doing a fine enough job. Living by herself in the temple instead of spending her time around the villagers, outside of those who treated her fairly, was a wise choice for someone in her condition.

He suddenly uncurled from his position on the floor, standing up on his hind legs and staring at the hall outside the room. "She's coming." Directing a wry look at Nishibyakko, he murmured, "I hope you two handle this better." Else it would be an unpleasant night for both of them. The sound of soft footfalls quickly grew closer and closer in the distinctive pattern that was Kiyoko's. Quick and light, as if she was in a hurry, but without much anger like the frown on her face sometimes would say. She hardly stomped her feet because she respected the house and the temple to do it to those floors.

Kiyoko soon appeared in the doorway, hand raised up and in the thick of her hair. The long dark waves fell over her shoulders and over the off-white fabric of her yukata, curling slightly at the ends. Her yukata was tight around her form, outlining her waist and hips, and her hair loose around her, reaching past her knees and swaying with every movement. It looked like the miko slept with her hair untied, but she was combing roughly through the strands with her fingers, an annoyed frown pinching her lips. When her red eyes shot to the figure already inside on her room, they darkened.

"I didn't think you'd be coming here this early." Or really, she wasn't looking forward to him coming here early. She'd have thought he'd prefer making merry with himself and his sake in one of the other rooms first, before he brought the reek of his booze into the sanctity of her room. Sliding the door shut behind her with her other hand, she turned around and faced him with pursed lips. "Why would you stand guard in here, anyway?"
 
But when would that time come, exactly? He watched as the cat disappeared down into the darkness of the hallway, going goodness knows where, and the silent padding of his footsteps being replaced by the much louder ones of Kiyoko. Folding his arms, he sunk into the futon, making himself comfortable. If the night was going to be awkward, at least he could make himself warm and in a good position to sleep - if he was going to sleep at all.

He barely looked up when the miko entered, and he could already feel the hostility radiating from her. She smelt clean, like she had just taken a warm bath, Nishibyakko could still feel the steam of a nice warm wash tickling his skin. Wrapped modestly in her sleeping yukata, the god took notice that this was the first time he had seen her in her sleeping clothes. The god spent most of his nights sleeping in the inner quarters or pacing outside under the moonlight, undisturbed by the loud miko and only accompanied by either Yuta or the peaceful sounds of nature. On the other hand, Kiyoko stayed in her room. They never saw each other in the night, she served him his food and that was it - and she would always be in her uniform and proper clothing - unless she looked out the window often enough to see his shadows slinking around the temple grounds.

Propping up something against the wall, he leaned back against it, meeting her gaze with an unreadable expression. He wasn't angry anymore, his mood shifting just like the seas, always turning and twisting. Seeing Kiyoko's reaction was always amusing, but he wondered if he had pushed too far this time. But there was that strange presence earlier, as if something had possessed her and was speaking for her... it unnerved the god. It was something dangerous he had not felt in a long time.

"Didn't want to disturb you if you slept first," he said calmly. He was being a bit considerate, and judging from the circumstances... he should. Nishibyakko was a little cruel at times, but he knew his boundaries. Thinking ahead, he had thought she might freak out if a man suddenly walked into her room in the middle of her sleep. Might as well have made himself comfortable earlier. "And adjust to the different room, I suppose."

He looked out through the open window, recalling the men who had attacked the priestess. He was sure there were more lurking out there in the woods, probably attracted to the site due to him having been sighted, but he wasn't too concerned. They could never cross the barrier. "I may be uncouth to you, or a horrible god in your eyes, but as my follower it is still within my duties to care for you." Nishibyakko closed his eyes. "I may have changed but I am still the Western God of Autumn. I bring the season's change as I run through the fields, and turn the summer heat into a gentle, cooling wind. There are some times that time cannot change, and that includes the god's instinct and duty to look after their followers." Turning back to look at her with a serious expression, he hoped to convey his feelings to her. "I will never let those people touch you."
 
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He had already made himself comfortable inside her room; huddled on the futon he had brought to her, he was clad in nothing but a loosened yukata. She followed his movements as he stood eventually, facing her whilst she stared at him with a stare that was not quite the fiery glares of before. ... It was just too damn late in the night to muster up enough of a pissing match against Nishibyakko. Kiyoko bit the inside of her cheek a bit harshly as she heard him speak up, acknowledging his point with a nod and a grudging look in her eyes. Bringing her attention to his futon which he had propped up beside a paper wall, she sighed quietly.

"If this is what you call caring, I wonder what you would actually do for people you truly care for." If there are any, she added privately, and a touch snidely inside her own mind. She stepped further into the room slowly, kneeling by her own futon without taking her eyes off of him. "What a strange time for you to suddenly become poetic. I haven't seen the summer sun since I was born, nor the touch of spring. Only autumn and winter seem to have any reign here." Which made her wonder what his relation was with the god who watched over the coldest season. "And I don't think you're terrible. Just an ass when someone's trying to be good to you, for kami's sake," she muttered the last bit lowly.

At any rate, he contradicts himself all the time. How can I think he is doing this for my sake instead of out of duty?

Giving up on the losing battle with her hair, she crawled into her futon and turned her back to him. The softness of the futon was heavenly against her side, the girl curling up and closing her eyes. Yet she couldn't sleep, as tired as she felt after a long day. The god's presence was still so very noticeable, just steps away from her inside this very same room... With how quiet it was, she was going to hear him if he moved. She had never shared her room with a grown man before, and she was aware enough that she was breaking social propriety to even tolerate something like this.

Then again, what could a god like him want from a girl like her? He said it well enough in his own words. "Or maybe the thing I should worry about touching me is you, but you don't see me complaining..." She mumbled, opening her eyes to stare at the wall in front of her blankly. "But maybe that's because it is my duty to listen to you as your follower. Fair enough."
 
The god cocked an eyebrow at her. "Have you seen the gravestones in the forests?" he asked her suddenly, his pale violet eyes darkening for bit. If she really wanted to know how he treated the ones whom he truly cared about... she could see them for herself. "I built those," he stated quietly after a moment of silence. "They are for those I truly cared about. And most of them I buried." Reaching up, the god loosened the band that held the long strands of hair together, shaking the ponytail free. The god's hair wasn't as long as his follower, but it was long enough - they said it resembled the tail of a cat, of a tiger. "It is truly something to bury someone you care about."

He was treading on emotional ground again, so he turned his attention and his words away. The silent resolve of the subject would have been obvious to Kiyoko, and not even hard pushing and prodding of the subject would make him continue. Bad memories should be forgotten. He was talking too much about himself. Nishibyakko sometimes stopped and wondered, why did he really care about sharing his story with the girl? It was her duty to know it herself, did her adoptive father not tell her anything? Or any of the Hayashis? Yuta had mentioned something about it before, but he questioned why that was the case. Nevertheless, he was getting ahead of himself. No need to get too attached, he was going to leave once the year was up.

"Only because that oversized chicken dares not walk here anymore," the god scoffed. "I'm telling you, summer does reign his head, but he is nothing like what he is in the south." Nishibyakko's voice was starting to get increasingly amused, "Like standing in a steamer. Autumn is much better. And winter... I'm not one to stop Genbu. He does what he wants."

Incredulous at her words, the god made a face of disgust at the girl, a ray of moonlight shining down at her futon. "I have no reason to touch you-" he began with a sense of pride, suddenly stopping and tilting his head towards the window like a hunting dog having detected something with its sensitive ears. What followed was a flurry of movements, the man jumping forward like a springing cat, gripping the edge of the girl's bed and essentially half-rolling, half-carrying her away from the open window, almost crashing straight into the wall. He made a noise, a mixture of a painful groan and a growl, looking at the arrow that had embedded itself into the tatami where the girl was laying just seconds before.
 
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She scoffed lightly at the affronted tone of voice the god had taken on. "Who mentioned eating me-" Her words were cut off by a sharp inhale and a flurry of movement that she almost didn't notice. The wall suddenly disappeared from her view, jarringly turning into a view of the ceiling and then darkness, the feeling of being rolled over nearly giving her vertigo. She found herself facing his chest for the third time in three days, her face practically close enough to touch his skin. Her fingers scrabbled for a grip on his yukata at the sudden growl from the god, there was an undertone of warning and caution to it that froze her blood in her veins almost immediately.

Nishibyakko didn't smell disgustingly of alcohol, surprising the miko. Did he clean himself sometime in the day and stayed sober long enough until going to bed? Shaking her head at those thoughts, she raised her eyes to see the shadowed face above hers with a small, audible gulp. "W-what... Just happened?" As close as she was to him, she could feel the tension practically poring off of his body. He had just yanked her, futon and all, far from the window all of a sudden... She scrambled out of the futon then, fingers pulling back from where they had cinched tight on the fabric of his clothes.

Kiyoko caught sight of the arrow firmly stabbed into the floor, where she had just been lying prone in her futon just moments ago. She swallowed hard, eyes flickering to the window. How could anyone he didn't want could have followed them up to here, so far into his land? "H-how?" She murmured dumbly, eyes seeking any sign of anyone outside the window. Her eyes were only that of a human's, how could she hope to know who was out there? And she wasn't stupid - approaching the window would make her even more of a target.

Before she could speak any further, whoever was unseen and far away from the temple would load another arrow into his bow and aim straight into the room, past the window... After passing unhindered, precisely aimed and meticulously planned, through forest and trees and stones. Whoever was doing this couldn't be human, not with how far the temple proper was from the border and how people couldn't get past that.
 
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