Sanae loves her parents more than anything.
When she's just a baby, newly adopted, they both dote on her, so very happy to finally have a child of their own. She sleeps cuddled between them in the inner sanctum of the shrine, warm and safe and protected from any possible harm by the two people that love her most.
As she grows from baby to toddler to child, it's Suwako who takes her outside to play. Suwako teaches her to swim in the shallowest parts of the lake, early in the morning before visitors come to the shrine. She shows Sanae how to gently and safely pick up frogs, letting them rest in her hands or on the brim of her hat. It always makes Sanae giggle.
Suwako even lets Sanae touch the Mishaguji a few times, as long as she's careful. "I won't let them hurt you, but they are curse gods," she warns, as the snakelike creatures circle her and Sanae in the grass. Sanae thinks it's the greatest thing in the world, how one of her moms tamed some curse gods and can talk to frogs. Suwako promises to teach her how to do things like that someday, when she's older. Suwako runs around in the fields neighboring the shrine with her, and carries Sanae home when she's all tired out. Suwako watches cartoons with her when all the giant robot shows are on. Suwako is her constant, and only, companion in the day.
Then in the evenings Kanako comes home from her day job selling insurance and she'll hug both Sanae and Suwako, giving Sanae a kiss on the forehead and Suwako one on the mouth. They eat dinner together, and take baths, and sometimes watch TV. On the weekends, Kanako takes her grocery shopping. Sanae rides in the cart, and Kanako lets her pick out some of the snacks. Kanako's the one who takes her out to public places, like stores and parks and libraries. They're so different from the calm natural scene that surrounds the shrine. Sanae finds it exciting, all the bright colors and strange sounds and different people she sees and hears whenever she and Kanako go into town.
Every night, Kanako and Suwako will tuck Sanae into the very middle of their bed and read stories to her. She usually falls asleep right away, but sometimes she wakes up when Suwako and Kanako get into bed later that night, one on either side of her in a warm pile of blankets. Suwako steals the covers, but Sanae never minds. She loves it, loves every moment she spends with her mothers. She's a happy little girl, and she makes sure both Kanako and Suwako know it.
It doesn't really occur to her as a child that her family is maybe a little odd. Eventually, she does realize that most people do not have two gods for mothers. Most people do not have two mothers, period. Most people have a mom and a dad, not a Kanako and a Suwako, to play with them and kiss them on the forehead and make them bento boxes for lunch. And most people definitely do not have near-untamable curse gods slithering around unnaturally through their yards. But it doesn't bother her. She loves her mother gods equally, and most of all loves the family they have together.
"You're special," Suwako tells her one day, when she asks about it. "Having two moms and all. Most kids only get one. Can you imagine if there was only one of us?"
"No!" Sanae giggles, and hugs Suwako's legs.
But before Sanae goes off to start school with other kids for the first time, when she's five, Kanako sits her down and instructs her not to tell anyone about Suwako. "If anyone asks, say I'm the only mom, Sanae. You don't have a dad. Pretend you only live with me, okay? You like playing pretend."
"Why?"
"Well, just because. You can't say you have two mothers."
"But I love Suwako! I don't wanna pick between you!" Sanae wails.
"Shh, shh, it isn't picking between us." Kanako squats down to look Sanae in the eye. "It's to keep us all safe, okay?"
"Is something bad gonna happen?"
"Sanae. You know that Suwako and I are gods, right?" Sanae nods, biting her lip. "Well, if people knew that there were two of us, they might figure it out. And some people might not like that."
"Why?"
"Well, that's just... the way it is."
"I want people to have faith in you," Sanae pouts.
"I know, Sanae. They will. But it's important not to tell anyone that we're gods, or that you have two moms. I know you might not understand, but it's really, really important, okay?"
Sanae continues to not understand for years, stumbling through grade school having to hide what her home life is like. "Her imaginary friend," Kanako laughs whenever Sanae messes up and talks about Suwako to other people. Sanae hates it. She may be young, but she knows Suwako is real, her real mother and not any imaginary friend, just like Kanako is her real mother too.
With her starting school, things start to change in ways that Sanae isn't sure she enjoys. She isn't allowed to sleep curled up between her moms anymore, for one; Kanako insists on Sanae sleeping in her own bed now that she's "a big girl". And Suwako's stopped going outside, and won't budge on it even when Sanae says she wants to play. "I know, Sanae, but it's too dangerous."
Sanae doesn't know what could possibly be dangerous about going outside when nothing bad has happened before. Maybe it's like how she isn't allowed to talk about Suwako, like Kanako said-to keep them all safe, because they're gods.
But she realizes exactly why when she's eight, the first time she gets bullied for showing too much affection to another girl. The girl is her friend, and Sanae likes her, so why shouldn't she hug her a lot? But when Sanae kisses her on the cheek the way Kanako sometimes does to Suwako, she realizes much too late that she's overstepped some boundary. The girl doesn't look back at her the way Suwako looks at Kanako after they kiss. Instead she says she doesn't want to be Sanae's friend anymore, and the rumors start to fly. Sanae's weird. Another kid asks her, with a malicious edge, if she's a lesbian. And with a sudden jolt she realizes that lesbian is the word for what her moms are. Different, when different is bad. How everyone else's parents are a man and a woman and not two female gods, and how they all think it's wrong wrong wrong for a girl to love another girl.
"Is it wrong?" Sanae asks tearfully, sobbing into Kanako's shoulder, after she's explained what happened.
"No," Kanako says, stroking Sanae's hair. "It isn't wrong at all."
"But sometimes people think it is," Suwako chimes in. When Sanae came home from school teary-eyed, Suwako comforted her and let her eat three whole cookies, but now that Kanako's home Sanae is crying again, feeling guilty and upset. "You didn't do anything bad, though, so don't worry."
"All the other kids hate me," Sanae tells Kanako's shoulder.
"Oh, Sanae," Kanako says.
"Their loss."
"Suwako," Kanako says almost warningly. Then, to Sanae, "Do you want me to talk to your teacher?"
"Yeah," Sanae says, sniffling a little bit.
"You know we both love you no matter what, right?" Suwako says.
"That's right," Kanako agrees. "Now, I will speak to your teacher, and see if she can stop the bullying. Because that isn't fair. But also, you can't act that way towards other girls, Sanae."
"If it isn't bad, then why not?" Sanae mumbles. "You do it all the time."
"Well, it isn't bad. But Suwako and I are grownups. If you like another girl, that's really nice, just like it is if you like a boy. But..." She trails off, looking to Suwako for support.
"It's just that a lot of people think two girls being together is bad. It isn't allowed. So we have to hide it," Suwako adds.
"It's unfortunate, but it is true," Kanako sighs. Sanae doesn't say anything. Her head feels too thick from all her crying.
"Someday, we won't have to keep this kind of thing secret." Suwako leans over to ruffle Sanae's hair. "I promise."
As Sanae grows up, she learns that it's not just because her moms are gods, and in a relationship, that she isn't allowed to talk about Suwako. Kanako only has government documentation for herself, so on paper, it appears that only Kanako Kochiya and her daughter Sanae Kochiya are living inside the Moriya Shrine, a temple dedicated to a wind and rain god who declined in popularity long ago. Kanako married young (Suwako likes to laugh at this part of the story—"As if Kana-chan would ever marry a man!"), but, tragically, was childless, although she desperately wanted a baby. When her husband suddenly died of heart failure, leaving Kanako all alone in the world, she decided to adopt. And that's how she got Sanae, her beloved daughter.
So the story goes. Kanako's drilled the fabrication into Sanae so much that she almost believes it when, on the off chance, she has to tell it at school. Usually, all she has to say is that she doesn't have a father, which is true, and people will be content. No one ever realizes the full story is all a lie. Sanae never really makes any lasting friends, or gets close to anyone. Her interests in mecha anime and science, and how her classmates know she's being raised as a shrine maiden for a long-forgotten god, sort of prevent it, and she doesn't do anything to make it any better. She remains friendly, yet distant from her classmates, and doesn't let them know too much about herself. She doesn't join any clubs, and prefers to spend her time researching science and technology in the library. And on the rare occasions she develops a crush on a classmate of any gender, she ignores the feeling, pushes it down as far as it'll go.
The only solace she has is a page torn from the back of a manga magazine, depicting two girls in sailor uniforms gazing lovingly into each other's eyes. It makes Sanae so happy. Somehow, in some way, it's a picture of her, of who she is inside. But at the same time, it also makes her heart ache. If only she were allowed to be that way; if only she could find someone who wouldn't care that it was forbidden, then maybe things would be a little better.
Sanae's lonely sometimes. She knows how to keep the loneliness out by now, but it still hurts knowing the only people she could consider friends by any stretch of the imagination are Kanako and Suwako. But she does her best to put on a bright face every day. She's doing it for her gods, after all.
"…sick of it, I'm sick of how this is what normal is to you now!"
Kanako's voice, across the hall and blocked off by two sliding doors, is too low and quiet for Sanae to hear. Not that she's trying to. She hates when her mothers argue, especially when they do it late at night, as if they're trying to hide it from their daughter.
"Yes it is! You pretend I don't exist! And you have Sanae in on it! Do you know how that's made me feel for the past ten years?"
Sanae's skin prickles at the mention of her own name. Kanako speaks again, and then there's a short silence, and Sanae realizes Kanako is crying. She can't listen anymore. She rolls over, trying to press her head into her blankets and pillows to block out the sound.
The last thing she hears before falling into uneasy sleep is Kanako, faintly saying, "…out of here soon, I promise." And in the morning, everything is as it always is, with Kanako and Suwako giving no indication of what happened between them and Sanae not willing to bring up that she heard anything at all. But Kanako's last words stay with her. She must have dreamed them, she thinks. Getting out of the place she's always called home—a place that hates her family's existence, but the only place she knows—it must be a dream. It has to be. A happy, fanciful daydream.
By the time Sanae's halfway through high school, her devotion to her gods is the only thing keeping her going. She's started calling them Kanako-sama and Suwako-sama, feeling more and more like a real shrine maiden with each day. She can perform small miracles now, for the people who sometimes visit the shrine to pray, and it always fills her with excitement. When Suwako and Kanako present her with a shrine maiden's outfit in blue and white for her birthday, she almost cries. If only she could always be with her gods at the shrine, and not have to pretend to be normal, her life would be wonderful.
"Sanae, how do you feel about moving?"
"To where, Kanako-sama?" Sanae is puzzled. No matter how she looks at this, it's a strange question, especially from Kanako. Kanako wouldn't say something like this unless she was serious. But the answer is even stranger than the proposal.
"Another world. It's connected to this one, but heavily sealed off by barriers. Suwako and I can both feel it pulling us, and we don't think ignoring it is wise."
Now Sanae's even more confused. Another world? Barriers? This is starting to sound like an anime.
Kanako sees the look on her face, and decides to elaborate. "You've noticed how weak Suwako is, right? I know she does her best to hide it from you, but..."
Sanae shifts uncomfortably. Suwako's health has been declining lately, and as much as everyone avoids the topic it's glaringly obvious. She'll shake and shiver, feverish one moment and insisting she's fine the next. She'll struggle to get out of bed, and sleep fitfully for much too long. Her body, usually strong and lithe and tall, has shrunk down to the size of a small child to conserve energy.
"Faith in us is declining. I'll be alright for a while, since my physical body is organic. The worst that could happen is that I lose my divinity. But Suwako..." She trails off, leaving the inevitable conclusion unspoken. "We can't stay here much longer, with no way to gather faith. I can't tell how long your devotion to us will keep both of us stable, and we aren't getting many prayers. It's in our best interests to try to gather faith from the people of the other world."
Sanae nods, but her voice falters. "I... I will go with you, wherever you want, Kanako-sama."
"Are you sure?"
"If it's for you and Suwako-sama, I don't mind leaving our life here behind. I, I mean, I want to. I'd love to. Please," she says, the words tumbling out of her mouth.
"Then it's settled," Kanako says authoritatively. All business. "I'll handle getting you out of that school. We can say you're transferring. Will anyone notice if you're not reachable after a few weeks or so?"
"I don't think so," Sanae admits. It's a sad fact, but in this case, a handy one.
"Good, because I can't say if you'll get cell phone service over there," Kanako says.
The next few weeks are a blur. Sanae finishes up the trimester at school, and then has to announce to her class that she's transferring out. To a boarding school, no less. Sanae and Suwako made up the school over dinner, giving it a generic enough name so that it would be harder to tell it wasn't real, and Kanako made some fake transfer papers to give to Sanae's current school. "You're getting out whether they approve it or not," Kanako sighs after she's finished her final draft of the papers, making sure they're perfect. "We just don't want them to report you as a missing person."
"I wish we could stay here until Sanae graduates," Suwako muses. "Then there wouldn't be any problem."
"You know that's impossible," Kanako says.
"It's another year and a half away," Sanae says quietly. "Kanako-sama made it seem like we had to leave now."
"The sooner, the better," Kanako says, and pours herself a glass of wine.
Sanae's always liked school vacations. Ever since she was little, they've been precious time she could spend with both her gods. Not having to pretend to be an ordinary human from a normal family every day was only an added bonus. Sanae would spend all day playing with Suwako, like she did when she was a young child, or they would take naps together. As Sanae got older, Suwako used those shared times to teach Sanae the intricacies of their faith, and instruct her on how to perform things like ritual cleansing. And in the evenings, when Kanako got home from her insurance job, she would be tired, but always happy to see Sanae and Suwako. The whole situation always felt warm to Sanae, warm and happy.
Now, being at home is different. Kanako and Suwako are itching to leave, making preparations for lifting their whole shrine, and the lake it sits on, out of the world with them. Kanako wants to put it on a mountain when they move. "Sure," Suwako snorts when Kanako brings it up, but Sanae has a feeling Kanako will get her way.
Sanae herself has almost nothing to do. She's asked at least a hundred times if she can help with anything, but the powers of a newly-minted shrine maiden are nothing compared to her thousand-year-old gods'. She spends the days picking up last-minute items that Kanako's warned her might be hard to get in the other world. Junk food. Manga. Batteries. She stocks up on candy and novels, and buys coffee by the pound for Kanako. Suwako suggests they get a generator, to keep their fridge running for a while, at the very least. "Cash only," Kanako says. "We don't need the credit card companies coming after us and finding we don't exist." Kanako's taking care of closing all their accounts, cleaning up any loose ends.
And on their last night in Japan, sitting around the table the way they have for Sanae's whole life, it feels to her almost like they're running away. Like she's only an accomplice in Kanako's grand scheme. But she'd follow Kanako and Suwako anywhere, and, despite her nervous fluttery feelings, she's ready to go. She loves them. That's all there is to it. They aren't just her gods, they're her mothers, and she trusts them with her entire life.