'…Are you prepared to continue your role? Bishamon is supposed to be the noblest, fiercest and mightiest God of War.'

In the wake of everything that had happened, Bishamon had allowed herself to forget about that question, about those words, or maybe it was that she had wanted to forget. That she hadn't been ready to face it. It had been easier to focus on the living, on the shinki that she still had, the ones she needed to protect and help heal, than it was to think about the words that Kugaha had said to her that night. The doubts he must've been harbouring for a long time to act as he had, to do what he had done. It made her heart ache to think about how long he must have borne those thoughts, how often he must've looked at her and hoped that she would see him, see what she was doing to him and the others who weren't by her side each day. It didn't excuse what he had done, nothing ever would, but she could feel for him and mourn the fact that her actions and inaction had lead him to that point.

Yet as things slowly returned to a new kind of normal within the mansion, and in the new quiet that had settled over them, she found the words, the accusations that he had thrown at her replaying through her mind at the strangest times. Yet most often they would surge up in the quiet when she would be flicking through the book, reading the latest messages from everyone, learning parts of them that she had never known before, these Shinki that Kugaha had called worthless. These lives that she should have known before… they had all forgiven her, opened up to her despite everything that had happened.

She wasn't worthy.

Gods can do no wrong, Yato had shouted that night and she knew that was supposed to be right. After all that was why there were Gods, and why they were supposed to watch over humans and guide them. And yet…

'You caused this, by needlessly granting names to Regalias…'

No. She didn't regret that, she didn't regret saving so many, giving them a home. There were many things she did regret… especially the fact that she hadn't known all those that had been lost, that she couldn't say that she knew about their dreams and hopes, that had been those that she hadn't called for in so long that they must have felt forgotten and lost just as Kugaha had. However, she could never regret having given them a home or a family, even if it hadn't lasted.

She could, and did regret what had happened and she knew that it was a pain that she would carry with her for as long as she remained in this reincarnation. Perhaps, Kugaha could take some comfort in that whilst his ultimate aim had been prevented, the lesson he had sought to teach her had been learnt. His words hounding her. Could she continue as she was? Could she continue to be a God of War… no, could she stand tall as Bishamon, the mightiest of the Gods of War, when she had failed those most precious to her?

She wanted to. She knew that Aiha and the others still looked to her as though she was, but when she walked through the strangely empty rooms and saw the haunted look in the eyes of those who had survived, she couldn't help but wonder if she could do it.

If she still had the right.

She had always known that sooner or later they would be called into action again, after all there were always phantoms hunting the humans, and she had a duty to protect them. So when they detected large concentrations of energy she hadn't hesitated to call for the others, to ready herself for the battle to come, and to hear the excitement, the hope in their voices. To see their trust as they looked to her for commands, it had warmed her. And yet…

They hadn't fought since that fateful day, everyone needing to recover their strength and repair their bonds, both with herself and each other. If Bishamon was honest, she had been relieved, because all she could think about when she thought of lifting a weapon was how she had been forced to wield Ruki against her own Shinki. How she had been forced to lift a blade against those she had sworn to protect, against those whose cries she should have listened to long ago.

It was a memory that haunted her in her sleep, and which slowed her steps as she made to follow the others. Sternly, she tried to remind herself that this was her duty, her purpose and that the Phantoms they were going to fight were nothing like the one that had devoured her Shinki… that she wouldn't lose anyone this time. Yet, Kugaha's words and their dying cries were stronger than her own words and she felt as though the world was closing in on her again, the walls of the mansion swimming around and she sucked in a sharp, desperate breath. She couldn't fall apart here, not when she was needed and desperately she lifted her head, relief flooding her when she realised that Kazuma had slowed his pace to match hers. Waiting for her as always, ready to guide her for the first time since he had agreed to be her exemplar once more.

She needed him.

"Kazuma…" She hadn't realised that she had stepped forward, closing the distance between them and twisting her fingers into the back of his jacket. Just as she did when the nightmares of the past hounded her at night, and just having that contact soothed her. He had stopped at her voice, and remained still, letting her draw strength from him for a moment before he tilted his head to peer over his shoulder at her with concerned eyes, that seemed to deepen with whatever he saw in her expression.

"Veena?"

"Kazuma…" She pressed closer, fingers tightening in his shoulder, feeling as vulnerable as she had the day she had asked him to be her Exemplar once more. "Who am I?"

"Veena, what…?" Kazuma was frowning as he turned to look at her, and she faltered, her hand falling away, and she hastily grasped it, trying to hide the tremble that had set in. The doubt. She knew that he had seen it though, he had always seen her weaknesses, the cracks that she had tried so hard to hide from everyone, and she saw it in his eyes as his expression softened. He knew. He was quiet for a moment, still hesitant in his role after everything that had happened but then he straightened, straightening his glasses as he always did when he was nervous, but his hands when he reached out to take hers were steady, as was his gaze. "You are Bishamon."

There was no trace of uncertainty in his words, and she felt them settling over her, a balm against the wounds that Kugaha's words had inflicted on her. You are Bishamon, she let them sink in, stilling the storm that had been raging in her heart since that night, her eyes widening, as without lowering his gaze, without looking away, he sank to one knee in front of her as he repeated softly. "You are Bishamon, God of War just as you have always been. Master…" Always, there was a lump in her throat, made worse by the use of his old name for her, a name that reminded of the day he had returned to her even when he'd had every right to turn away.

"Kazuma," she whispered, her voice wavering. "Thank you." There weren't enough words in the world to explain how much his had meant to her, how much she needed him by his side, but she had always been better at action and she straightened, holding his gaze. "Chōki, guide me." There was a smile on his lips as he transformed, settling into his customary place on her ear, his voice surrounding her and filling her with warmth.

"Always, Bishamon…"