Ahoy, ahoy! Welcome to my AU. Yes, the AU that not many people were clamoring for: Rabou reincarnates after the season 1 finale. Do you enjoy the "former villain becomes awkward friend" trope? Because it's my favorite trope ever. Combine that with the fact that unpopular minor characters are my fandom specialty, and here we are! If you also like underrated minor characters, or if you're one of the few people that enjoyed the Rabou story arc in the anime, then you're in the right place! If you didn't like the Rabou sub-plot and you still clicked on this story, that's pretty cool! Maybe I can change your opinion. Or not. Either way, I realize that this is not a popular character, so if you're reading this: thank you! Let's roll.

PROLOGUE: PREMONITION

She could feel the eyes again—unseen, but their gaze was heavy on her nonetheless. A cold, needling stare burrowed into her back and seeped into her skin. Noriko shivered as she climbed out of her tiny Nissan, drawing her dark purple jacket tighter around her shoulders. She hurriedly dug her messenger bag out from the jumbled contents of her car's cramped backseat, hit the lock button on her key remote, and rushed to the door of her apartment building, jerking it open with trembling hands. The door hissed to a close behind her, moving so slowly on its hydraulic hinge—till, finally, it clicked shut. That sound filled her with some small measure of relief and she sagged back against the door just for a moment, trying to steady her racing heartbeat.

It's getting worse again, she thought sourly. That feeling of being watched… it came and went, but recently it had come back and it was stronger than it had been in years. And the sightings were happening again, too: those things half-glimpsed from the corner of her eye. Sometimes they were people, seen just for a second and then gone a moment later. Sometimes they were… well, definitely not people. More like shapes, dark and often formless, that lurked in her peripheral vision. And sometimes, the shapes weren't so formless at all.

At long last, she rounded the corner of the second-floor hallway and her front door came into view. She beamed and hurried her steps. Her key hit the lock and she practically sprinted through the door. As soon as the door shut behind her, she locked it and rested her forehead against it, heaving a gusty sigh. In the safety of her apartment, she felt that watchful sensation retreat a bit more. She straightened up, kicked her shoes off and rolled her shoulders, stretching her arms up into the air.

"I thought I'd never get out of that office tonight," Noriko groaned, shaking her hands out and stretching her wrists. It'd been a hectic day of coding and debugging. She shed her jacket and dropped that and her bag into a lacquered basket beside the door; then she turned around, gazing around her apartment in satisfaction. It wasn't very spacious—just one tiny bedroom, a bathroom, a cozy little living area, and the cramped kitchen with a low counter separating it from the rest of the room—but it was hers and she was perfectly happy in her "nest", as she liked to think of it.

She yawned as she stumbled towards the kitchen. The sudden resurgence of these "incidents" wasn't helping her energy levels, on top of those long hours at work. As much as she didn't want to think of it, perhaps it was time for another appointment, another test; the last thing she needed was to start seeing things at work.

She knew what her mother would call them: ayakashi, Phantoms, demons, spirits… weird, supernatural stuff. Noriko called it "seeing things", although no doctor had ever been able to diagnose her with anything, neither mental nor physical. Heavens knew she'd been to clinics of all kinds often enough, going back every other year or so in the hopes that this time, they'd finally figure out what was wrong with her.

Every single one of them had been left baffled. Noriko, according to each and every doctor she'd ever seen, was the picture of perfect health for a young woman at her age... not that it'd ever stopped her from being the resident oddball in school. After twenty-seven years of these sightings, Noriko would've almost preferred a psychiatric diagnosis.

Whatever it was, it ran in the family. Her mother supposedly had the same sightings, and her grandmother, and her great grandmother, and so on. All of them had been shrine maidens for most of their lives, too, so it probably shouldn't have been surprising that they'd assign a supernatural meaning to these "visions". Of course, after growing up as the local loony amongst her peers, a life as a shrine maiden was the last thing Noriko had wanted. So, here she was, living the urban lifestyle... and her childhood "looniness" had tagged along for the ride.

Her stomach growled as she tugged open the fridge door and peered inside. She shoved her free hand into her sweater pocket — and she felt the dry brush of stiff paper against her knuckles.

"Hmm?" She tugged it out of her pocket—a business card, printed on cheap paper and uneven at the edges. She held it up to examine it. "When did I pick this up?" she murmured, frowning. She could almost remember, but...

There wasn't anything outstanding about the card. It was sparsely decorated with just a title, phrase, and phone number:

DELIVERY GOD

WISHES GRANTED ALL YEAR

REPAIRS / DELIVERIES / CLEANING

ALL JOBS ACCEPTED

090-ZZZZ-**3*

"Delivery god," she muttered sourly. She pushed strands of shoulder-length, reddish-brown hair out of her face as she studied the card. Was this some delivery guy's idea of a joke? Or a way to drum up more business by trying to sound exciting? Whatever it was, it wouldn't be very effective; that phone number wasn't even real.

And then she remembered where she'd gotten the damn thing— the card had caught her eye, stuck beneath the windshield wiper on her car as she left work, and she had absently stuck it in her pocket, planning on throwing it away rather than dropping it on the ground. Frowning, she turned to the other side of the kitchen and went to the recycling bin. As she held her hand out to drop the card into it, though, she paused. Pulling her hand back, she read it again.

"Wishes granted, huh?" she said under her breath. If she could simply wish her problems away, she'd have done it a long time ago, that was for sure! Scoffing at herself, she tossed the card onto the kitchen counter and turned back to the refrigerator to dig out some beef. She'd been craving yakisoba all day.

As she bustled about her kitchen, fixing up her meal, her gaze kept sliding sideways though—back to that business card. It rested innocently on the counter, just like any ordinary card, but its white surface seemed unnaturally bright. Why was there a fake number on it, anyway?

...And... what would happen if someone did dial it? She shook her head again, tearing her eyes off it and turning back to her noodles.

When her dinner was finally done, she smiled to herself and dished some out into a bowl, carrying it carefully to the table in the living area. Her stomach growled and she shushed it.

"Calm down, dinner's ready," she chided. Plopping herself down beside the table, she pulled her laptop over and opened it up, rubbing her hands together. As the laptop slowly woke up, she scooped up the first steaming mouthful of noodles and blew on it a few times before eagerly digging in. She smiled delightedly, sighing in contentment. Not bad for having been thrown together in such a hurry!

Once her aging laptop had fully woken up— she made a mental note to start looking for a new one after her next paycheck came in—she went immediately to her Twitter feed to catch up on whatever she might've missed during the day. Busily updating and retweeting, the business card on the counter quickly faded from her mind.

That is, until she went to clean off her dishes half an hour later and there it was, waiting for her, still as oddly magnetic as it had been before. She scowled at it as she dumped her bowl in the sink, a bit more forcefully than was necessary. That stupid, fake phone number… what was a "delivery god", anyway? Who'd ever heard of a god of deliveries? What was it supposed to be, some kind of divine handyman? She rapped her fingernails against the countertop, the clicking sound echoing in her ears.

And the biggest question: why did she want to test it out so badly? Why couldn't she just toss the damn card in the recycling bin and be done with it? That was what she ought to do, and yet...

It really would be awfully convenient if she could just wish her problems away, but nothing in life was that easy.

There was no reason to call that number. The call wouldn't connect even if she did dial it, she reminded herself. How could a fake phone number possibly work? Her eyes slid back to the card again, as if it were a magnet.

If only she could wish away this feeling of being watched...

Noriko sighed heavily, then went to get her phone. Once she'd dialed the damned thing and nothing happened, she'd have proven to herself that the card was just some practical joke, and then she'd feel properly foolish and throw the card away and move on with her evening. She punched in the nonsensical number and hit the little green "Call" button...

She waited in silence, phone in hand, feeling like an idiot already...

And then it rang. She yelped and fumbled the phone, scrambling to catch it, then stared at the screen in shock. It was really ringing— and it wasn't a conveniently-timed incoming call either. The stupid fake number wasn't so fake at all.

It kept ringing and part of her hoped no one would pick it up. She wasn't sure which was worse—that she'd dialed a fake number while expecting it not to connect, or that the fake number was somehow real and she was dialing a total stranger with a phone number that shouldn't even function. It rang and rang- she was probably going to get a "This number is not in service" message any second-

Her heartbeat jolted into her throat when someone answered on the other end.

A deep voice spoke, resonating in her ear. "This is the delivery god Rabou," he intoned. "What is your wish? I shall grant it for the price of five yen."

"Um…" She stared blankly at the wall across the kitchen, totally at a loss. This had to be a prank of some kind, but he sounded so serious!

"You called the telephone number on my card, you must have a wish to make," the man on the other end said, as if this was something plainly obvious. "Whatever it is, I shall grant it. Tell me what it is that you need. Make an offering of five yen, and I shall accept any job you may require of me."

He sure as hell didn't sound like he was kidding. Was he an actor or something? Maybe this was a publicity stunt of some kind, for a movie or a TV show.

"Uh, w-what kind of wishes?" she asked hesitantly. There was a brief pause at the other end, like he hadn't expected that question.

"Whatever type of wish you choose to make," he said. Again, he sounded as if this was something she ought to know already, like it was common knowledge.

Noriko pulled the phone away from her ear again, gawking at it. What did this guy think he was—some kind of genie? First of all, this kind of claim was impossible. No one could answer any type of wish. Whether it was a prank or a publicity stunt, it was weird as hell. Or, with all this talk of granting wishes, maybe it was something a bit more salacious than that.

"U-um, sorry, but… this isn't one of those, uh… dirty-talk phone lines, is it?" she asked warily, her face reddening.

"Dirty talk?" he echoed, sounding utterly bewildered.

"Uh, n-never mind," she said quickly. She'd take that as a no, and she was more than a little relieved.

"Now, you found the card with my telephone number, did you not?" he asked, sounding a bit impatient. "I am a delivery god. Whatever your wish may be, whatever troubles you may be having, my assistance will be prompt, reliable, and affordable."

"So... you do delivery work? You're a handyman, right? And you'll do all of that for five yen?" she asked dubiously. Well, she'd figured out the delivery part already, so she'd been right to begin with after all. What a stupid prank this was! Why wasn't she hanging up yet?

"That is traditional, is it not?" the prankster remarked. "A five-yen offering for a god?"

Noriko scrunched up her nose at that. What was with this god talk? Was he some kind of a religious devotee? Maybe this was a charity hotline for a local shrine- a themed fundraiser with actors playing the roles of gods to spice things up. Or maybe he just had delusions of grandeur.

"W-well, yeah, that's what people do at shrines and all, but… isn't that too low for delivery work?" she insisted. "That is, if you're doing odd jobs for people, how could you make any money if you're only charging five yen?"

"I assure you, my services go far beyond mere deliveries," he replied stiffly, like she'd wounded his pride somehow. This whole thing was just surreal— his tone was entirely sincere, but none of this made any sense. It had the muddled confusion of a conversation within a dream, where the people talking meant every word they said, but the words themselves were gibberish.

"The type of work isn't the issue here! Whatever work you're doing, five yen isn't gonna cut it no matter how you look at the matter," Noriko protested. She knew she should just hang up. She should really hang up immediately. Arguing with this guy was obviously pointless. And yet, this whole thing offended her on a logical basis and she'd always been terrible at letting things go when they bothered her.

"A god ought to listen to his followers' voices rather than their money, wouldn't you agree? Money should not dictate whose wishes are given priority, is that not true?" he asked calmly.

"W-well, yeah, I guess so, but… we're just talking about handyman work here… aren't we?" Noriko asked, utterly confused. The weird guy remained silent for a moment, then spoke again.

"I shall ask again… what is your wish?" He still sounded entirely serious. If this was a prank, he was very dedicated to it. "What is it that you want?"

What did she want? That feeling of being watched pressed in around her again, closing in on her like a hand clenching into a fist. A wish, huh? No. That was nonsense. This entire thing was absurd!

"I… I don't actually have any wishes! At all. Ever. Sorry!" She jerked the phone from her ear and jabbed the End Call icon, her face as red as the little phone emblem under her fingertip. She stared at the phone, and then at the business card still gripped between her fingers. This time, she did toss that card in the recycling bin. She really was a fool sometimes!

That feeling of being watched came back, sharper this time, like it was prying into her. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and then rushed to her bedroom. What she really needed, maybe, was some exercise. It was past sunset already but this was a safe enough neighborhood, with plenty of streetlights, and she had a can of pepper spray anyway.

Maybe I can outrun this awful feeling, she thought wearily.

Golden-yellow eyes stared down, perplexed, at the Call Ended message on the phone's screen. She'd actually hung up on him. That had never happened before. Every human that called him had a wish to make. The only humans who saw his number were those that needed it, after all. People either called him or they didn't. They never hung up like that. If a human called him, there was always a reason for it— there was always something they needed, a wish to be answered, even if they weren't conscious of it themselves. And if the human didn't know the reason for their call, it usually amounted to just one thing: Ayakashi, a Phantom plaguing the human's thoughts and feeding off of their negativity.

Well, he was certainly becoming well-versed in answering calls about ayakashi. Tucking the phone into his pants pocket, he turned his eyes up to the sky. He sighed heavily and stood up from the bench he had been sitting on.

He hefted the katana that was leaning against the edge of the bench beside him. The weapon felt cold and leaden in his hand; it had none of the radiance of the sacred vessels. Picking up an aluminum bottle from the seat of the bench, he scrutinized it briefly, giving it a shake. The water within it sloshed faintly. He would've preferred to have more on hand, but there was no time to visit a shrine. Answering calls quickly was the key to building a reputation for reliability, according to Yato. There should be just enough water in there to handle this job. It would be a close call, though. Then again, his jobs always seemed to be that way. He tucked the bottle into his hooded sweatshirt.

Finding the human who'd called him would be an easy task, although she had given no location. Such was the power of a god, after all—even a washed-up god of calamity like himself. He slung the sheathed katana up onto his shoulder, glancing at the blue-black sky. Beyond the yellow glow of the streetlights, he could see a scattering of stars.

His yellow eyes narrowed and he tightened his grip on the hilt of the sword. The boundary between the Shores grew thin at dusk, and the nighttime harbored the dark creatures that wandered through. And here it was, already nighttime. The shadows were full of strange things at this hour, and that always seemed to bring trouble his way... not that he wasn't used to it.

Eliminating problems with the edge of a blade—- that had always been his specialty, or so he'd been told.

Noriko dug in her closet, a deep frown embedded on her face. Reaching back, her frown faded just a little as she pulled out one particular item and nodded approvingly; this was definitely an electric-blue jogging jacket kind of evening. She slipped it on and zipped it up, sticking her iPod into a little pouch on the upper left sleeve.

She wiggled into the matching pants and clipped on her jogging belt. Trotting to the front door, she slipped on her favorite lime-green running shoes and stepped out into the hallway, locking the door behind herself before she could change her mind.

There was a sharp chill to the air, typical of a night this early in the new year. It stung at her cheeks and Noriko jogged faster, putting an extra spring in her steps to warm herself up quicker.

The light, upbeat pop music swirling in through Noriko's earphones definitely helped lift her mood. A little smile tugged at the corners of her mouth; this was a good shuffle, all her favorite songs kept coming up. She hummed along, out of sync and off-beat as she breathed in time with her strides. The cool, crisp air revitalized her with every inhale, chasing away her earlier gloom.

But as she jogged onward, the streets grew more and more quiet around her. It wasn't even that late, yet there was no one around her; perhaps the cold weather was keeping people indoors. Her breath fogged in front of her face as she ran, and she was beginning to wonder if she should've stayed home.

The night kept getting colder, and the shadows around her were deep and long of reach. Noriko's heart thumped in her chest and she kept her eyes firmly ahead of her. She wasn't going to start looking around. She was not going to start peering into shadows and making herself nervous; that wasn't going to accomplish anything. Just keep going, she told herself. She was already halfway through her usual jogging route by now. She'd be fine as long as she kept going. Yes, that's what she needed to do—to keep running and ignore the prickling at the back of her neck, like some strange and unseen hand was stretching its fingers out towards her—something massive and sparkling with some terrible energy…

Noriko slowed, then stopped, fists clenched and trembling. The sweat cooling on her skin felt clammy now, as the winter chill seeped through her jacket. Something was behind her. She lifted her chin and took a deep breath, letting the cold, clean air fill her lungs. She'd been dealing with weird things since childhood. Noriko had long since taught herself to keep a level head whenever the "incidents" happened. This wasn't the first time she'd felt a presence like this and it wouldn't be the last… although, it had been years since she'd felt it this strongly.

Turn around, she told herself. If she turned to face this thing, whatever it was, it would probably fade away. That was usually how it worked, anyway. Those strange things, half-seen and half-unseen, it was like they avoided her line of sight. Or maybe they were beyond her sight, just barely. Either way, trying to glimpse these things seemed to hold them at bay. All she had to do was… turn around.

This one didn't fade away. It floated in the air, bloated and twisted and glowing a sickly purplish-black, like a bruise on reality itself. Rash-like blotches of red spattered its body and the writhing tentacles that lined its long belly. Its massive, wide-finned tail lashed from side to side as the fishlike mouth gaped open, exposing rows of bristling, needle-sharp teeth. From the top of its head rose a thin, curling tentacle with a bright light at its tip that glowed a malevolent shade of orange.

Noriko's dark green eyes fell on that light, drawn to its pulsating, roiling glow. It filled her whole field of vision, growing brighter and deeper, sinking into her skull and zinging along her optic nerves… The night faded away around her, and her body suddenly seemed so distant. She took a slow step towards it, she needed to get closer…

And then something grabbed the back of her jacket and pulled, hard. She cried out in shock as she went stumbling off her feet and hit the ground. A yelp of pain wrenched out of her as she struck the ground on her right side, her hip and shoulder taking the brunt of the blow. Something hissed through the air above her, where her head had been just a heartbeat before—it left a loud, sharp crackling in its wake.

"Do not gaze into the light." The deep, resonant voice that spoke snapped her back to her senses. She looked up as her senses came back, and she once again saw the monster looming before her; she shrieked and scrambled backwards on the ground, away from both the voice and the monster. She squeezed her eyes shut, heart pounding so hard that it almost hurt.

"You would be wise to leave this place right away," the nearby voice told her gravely.

"I… can't…" she whispered. Her legs felt numb and rubbery. Her whole body quivered as she pressed her hands over her eyes. It had never been like this, none of her "incidents" had ever come close to this!

"Then stay where you are," the voice said, its tone stern. She heard the scuff of footsteps on pavement moving closer to her and she flinched away, but the footsteps went past her instead. She felt a slight whoosh of air as the stranger walked by. "Stay where you are, and do not move… and above all, do not look at the ayakashi."

"Ayakashi...?" she echoed, her voice barely a whisper.

The footsteps pounded away from her at a run—then she heard a high-pitched ringing, like a steel blade being drawn—a harsh yell cut through the air, and then a slicing noise and a wet, stomach-churning tearing sound, and an unearthly shriek that thundered in Noriko's ears—

She clamped her hands over her ears, hunching down and gritting her teeth. The horrible noises echoed around her, no matter how she tried to block it out. A hoarse shout, a chilling howl, the whistle and slice of a blade cutting through something… A voice—the same voice—rang out through the air, saying something almost like a chant, but the words were lost, muffled by her hands and the hammering of her pulse.

Once more, she heard the slice of a blade through flesh, and then a scream echoed through the night, shrill and terrible and agonizingly loud, and a flash of red light lit up the insides of her eyelids—and then, silence. She huddled on the ground, hands still held to her ears. She didn't move so much as a muscle till the soft tread of footsteps reached her again.

"Miss," called the same voice. There was something oddly familiar about it, as if she'd heard it before… But she ignored the voice. Her hands were still clamped over her ears, her body still frozen in place. "Miss," repeated the voice, "The ayakashi is gone. You are safe now. Please open your eyes; you will not be harmed."

Noriko's hands faltered, pulling away from her ears just a little bit. Could she really trust those words? Was the monster really gone and was she really safe? Either way, she couldn't sit there forever. She'd have to open her eyes sooner or later. Even if she was still in danger, sitting there wouldn't exactly help her.

Taking a shaky breath, she slowly lowered her hands and raised her head a little bit, opening one eyelid just a crack. The street before her was empty, the monster nowhere to be seen—and that feeling of being watched had disappeared. She let her breath out slowly, then lifted her head the rest of the way and opened her eyes fully. That was when she saw the man standing a couple paces away.

He sure as hell didn't look like a monster-slayer, or anything of the sort. He stood with his hands tucked into the front pocket of his black hooded sweatshirt. The dark red fabric lining the inside of the hood contrasted starkly with his pale complexion.

"I apologize for handling you so roughly," he said, walking slowly closer to her. "The ayakashi was luring you in and I had to act quickly. It would have possessed you. That was not the moment for subtlety, I fear." He paused beside her and knelt down, extending a hand to her. Vivid yellow eyes regarded her solemnly through long, unruly waves of silver hair. "Are you hurt?"

Noriko stared, her mind drawing a blank. Was she hurt? She didn't even know. This was absurd… this was all just completely wrong! What the hell was happening?! Her mind had been pushed far past its limit, and she did what anyone might do when faced with something beyond comprehension: she screamed at the top of her lungs.

She seized the little canister of pepper spray from its plastic holster on her belt, then whipped the can up and hit the trigger button with all her might. The man shouted and toppled backwards with a thump, and she hurled the can at him as hard as she could, then sprang to her feet and bolted away.

It wasn't until later that she would realize her iPod had fallen out of its pocket and yanked loose from the earphones jack, and was nowhere to be found.

He shouted and reeled back, losing his balance and landing ass-first on the ground. The plume of noxious spray blasted past him just inches from his left ear, and the can she flung struck him right in the forehead.

"Agh!" He clutched his face as his forehead stung from the hard aluminum and his eyes burned from the spray's fumes. The girl was on her feet and gone in a flash, racing off in a flat-out sprint. "W-wait! No!" he hollered hoarsely, stretching one hand after her, the other hand covering his face as his eyes watered profusely. "Don't go! You owe—" Too late, the sound of her footfalls had already faded into the distance and she was gone. "You owe me five yen," he finished forlornly.

He groaned and sprawled backwards onto the ground, both hands pressed to his stinging eyes. The sensation faded all too slowly. He took measured, deep breaths as he tried to recover himself. Finally, the pain subsided and he pushed himself up on his elbows, surprised by how winded he was.

After a moment, he hauled himself upright and climbed to his feet. His katana lay nearby, where he'd set it down after destroying the ayakashi—he hadn't wanted to alarm the girl by approaching her with a sword in hand. Not that it had done much good. He picked the sword up and examined it critically, frowning deeply. The cold steel glinted in the flickering light of the street lamps as they glowed overhead.

Glancing back at where the girl had been, he spotted a tiny, silvery shine on the pavement. He went over to it and squatted down; a little object sat there, rectangular and made of smooth metal. It was one of those strange music devices, he realized. It must have fallen out of the girl's pocket when she'd fallen. Picking it up, he tucked it into his pocket. Perhaps, if he found a chance to return it to her, she might give him the five yen as a show of gratitude.

Shaking his head, he strode a few paces away and picked up his aluminum water bottle, which he'd discarded during the fight. It was dented now, and empty. He'd have to visit a shrine soon and refill it with blessed water.

Eyeing the bottle and sword balefully, he sighed wearily. It was becoming increasingly difficult to slay ayakashi like this. Mortal-made blades simply weren't fit for the task, no matter how much blessed water he doused them with. And he hadn't even gotten paid for this job. Still, at least he hadn't been Blighted this time.

Even so, he had to find a shinki, and soon… or else this was going to be a terribly brief reincarnation.