The light of the moon shone in through the thin paper of the shoji, falling across the half-Phantom's face. She sat up in irritation; she hadn't been able to get any sleep as of yet, and the trend looked to continue for the foreseeable future. Hiyori stood, and tiptoed past Kofuku—who somehow even looked excited to be asleep—to exit the room they were sharing with Bishamon and her female regalia.
Hiyori's group had found themselves invited on Bishamon's work retreats with regularity after the incident with Nana the previous year: she suspected the war goddess was attempting to express her thanks without having to resort to actually saying the words. Perhaps Kazuma's residual guilt played a part in it as well, though she knew the two offended parties had forgiven him long ago. Sliding open the front door of the imposing traditional inn, she stepped out into the warm night. She was immediately much more comfortable than she had been inside, the light fabric of her yukata allowing her to feel the gentle breeze.
She found him not ten minutes later, standing atop a hill and gazing at the moon. It was full tonight, and hung low in the sky; it seemed to her so much closer than usual. She stopped a fair distance from the god. She had followed his scent without thinking. Having come here with no real purpose, she just stood, looking at him looking so far away.
Silhouetted by the moonlight, he looked unearthly, as if the whole scene has been painted in chiaroscuro. His pale skin stood in stark contrast to his dark yukata and hair, slightly ruffled by the wind. She knew that if he were to turn to face her, she would see eyes so blue that they seemed to glow brighter than the moon itself. At times like these, she could truly appreciate that he was a god: an ancient existence that generation after generation of humans had tried and failed to capture in words or images.
As she wondered what he might be thinking about—wondered if it were even in the realm of her comprehension—he seemed utterly out of her reach. Though she could see him standing right in front of her, the distance was unbearable. Impulsively, she ran forward and grabbed his hand. He turned to her in surprise.
"Hiyori? What are you doing out here?"
She didn't reply. She couldn't reply, because his eyes shone just as brightly as she'd known they would, and the look in them was just as far away as she had imagined. It broke her heart. So, saying nothing, she let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around him. Anything, anything to close the distance between them. After a moment, he returned the embrace, holding her ever so gently until she relaxed against him.
"Hey," he whispered, bringing one of his hands up to cup her cheek and tilting her face upward. Her anguished eyes met his confused ones. She suddenly became aware of how closely their bodies were pressed together, and thought his heartbeat seemed a little faster than usual. She could feel his breath on her face.
Truth be told, this wasn't the first time they had been in this position since the frigid winter evening on which they clumsily confessed their feelings. But Hiyori had always found some excuse to break away, or turned at the last second, or outright run. After all, it was new, and awkward, and very, very embarrassing.
Now, she couldn't quite recall why any of that mattered. As she rose up on her toes, and he dropped his hand from her face in surprise, she was quite sure all that mattered was him. And as they kissed, she felt herself tremble from the tips of her fingers down to her toes, and lost herself in how warm and real and close he was.
Neither was in a rush to break the kiss, but she eventually pulled away. When she looked up at him again, she saw wide eyes and a face that would surely have been the color of a tomato in brighter lighting. In that moment, he looked so indistinguishable from any gobsmacked guy in his early 20s that she burst out laughing.
"Hiyori!?" he asked again.
"Sorry," she said, regaining her composure, "I was just feeling kind of lonely."
"...So you kissed me?"
"Er," she cleared her throat, "um...yes?"
There was a brief pause. Hiyori felt her own face getting increasingly pink.
"Well," he said finally, "I'm always glad to help, so you should definitely keep coming to me with your problems. Any time. Any time at all."
"Oh, shut up," she replied. She turned to look out at the moon over the edge of the hill, studiously avoiding his eyes.
He grinned and wrapped an arm around her waist. She gave a little huff of exasperation, but leaned into him. Content to just be near one another for a while, they both gazed up at the night sky in silence.
So they stood, the girl and the god, their thoughts not, perhaps, so distant.
xxx
A/N: The last prompt was "Tsukuyomi" n_n
Thank you for reading! :D
