Chapter 4
They managed to spend the rest of the day relaxing, for the most part. Sakura insisted on watching her J-Drama shows in the afternoon; within fifteen minutes Issei was both totally lost in the complex character interactions, and also totally hooked. He'd pestered his friend with questions about the shows until she'd laughed and dragged out her recordings of the earlier episodes, and they'd settled in to spend most of the day in unproductive TV watching.
They'd spend time together before, just hanging out or talking, but it was usually either the two of them out doing something together, or her comforting him after his latest Jinpachi-related heartbreak. This was the first time they'd just sat around at her house, and he found he was enjoying himself greatly.
Eventually they found they were dozing off and missing large chunks of the episodes, and they gave in and admitted defeat. "Why haven't we ever done something like this before?" Issei asked as he stood and attempted to stretch without straining his ribs. "It was fun."
Sakura stifled a yawn behind her hand, and chuckled. "Because it never occurred to me that you might enjoy it, honestly," she told him. At his bewildered look, she elaborated, "Issei, how many guys do you know who would enjoy spending an entire afternoon and evening watching a show that's entirely about relationship issues?"
He thought about that, and flushed, seeing her point. There was a reason these kinds of shows were targeted to young women. Most guys would have fallen asleep or tried to change the channel after about five minutes of watching a J-Drama.
"Hey, there's nothing wrong with you enjoying it," Sakura said, seeing and correctly interpreting his flush. She patted him on the shoulder. "There are plenty of guys who do like these shows. And plenty of girls who don't."
Issei shook his head. "Enju asked Sarjareem to reincarnate her as a male so she could be closer to Gyokuran. But she forgot to ask for her soul to become male, as well. It's frustrating, sometimes. I'll think I finally have a handle on what part of me is her, and what part of me is me, and then I'll turn around and find something else about me that doesn't fit."
She blinked at him, tilting her head. "What makes you think you can separate yourself from her that way, Issei? You talk like you're two separate people; actually, more like she's someone that just sits inside your head, distinct from you."
"I'm not Enju," he insisted, frowning. "I may have the same soul she did, but I'm not her. I don't want to let her life and experiences influence my life or personality. I want to be me, not her. The me I would have been if I'd never remembered anything about her life."
"I don't see how you can avoid having her life influence yours," Sakura replied. "Maybe you would have been different if you'd never remembered anything about her. I'm not so sure about that; Alice is an awful lot like Mokuren, and she doesn't remember anything at all other than that one brief glimpse. But whether or not you would have been different is a moot point, Issei. You do remember things about her life, and by remembering them, they've influenced you just as if you'd experienced them yourself. Because you did experience them, just not in this lifetime."
"But why are there so many aspects of my personality that are feminine?" he said, frustrated. "Surely it can't be that unusual for a soul to switch gender from one incarnation to the next. And I never had any problems until I started dreaming about her life."
"Are you sure about that?" she countered. "Did people start telling you that you'd changed when you started having the moon dreams, Issei? Did you find yourself doing things that seemed out of character? Or did you just start realizing why you sometimes behaved the way you already did?"
"I..." Issei sighed and shook his head. "I don't know. It was too long ago, and too gradual a process. But whatever the result, I can't go back and change it now. That doesn't mean I have to be happy living with it, though."
She hugged him again. "And so long as you think of it that way, you never will be happy living with it, Issei. You need to learn to accept yourself as you are - and that means accepting the part of you that is Enju, too, not trying to shut her away in a box."
Issei rubbed his face with his hand, carefully not touching the side his father had punched him on. "Sakura, please... can we not argue about this right now?" he asked wearily. He was exhausted, his pain medication had worn off a while ago, and the last thing he needed to be brooding about right now was the reason he was in this situation in the first place. He'd managed to forget himself and have fun while they were watching the TV; now he felt like he'd been dragged down and mired in quicksand again.
"I'm sorry, that was thoughtless of me," she apologized immediately, biting her lip and touching his arm in concern. "You look like hell, no offence. Want me to get your pain medication for you?"
"Please?" he agreed, and hugged her briefly. "I know you're only trying to help, Sakura. But I guess there are some things I just have to work out on my own, and my feelings about Enju are part of them."
"I worry about you, that's all," she said, patting his arm again before heading off to retrieve his medication from where he'd left it in the kitchen.
She came back carrying a pair of pyjama pants as well, and a toothbrush still in its wrapping. "I grabbed a pair of my dad's old pyjamas from his drawer, he won't mind," she said, handing them to him. "And I don't know if you can brush your teeth with your jaws wired shut like that, but I figured it couldn't hurt to try."
"Thanks," he said, taking the items and vanishing into the bathroom to ready himself for bed. The medications were all liquid, since he couldn't swallow a pill at the moment. He'd already been warned that he'd have to subsist on protein drinks and other liquid foods until his jaw healed, and he wasn't looking forward to it.
He felt awkward wearing her father's pyjamas, but it was that or sleep in his clothes. His sister hadn't thought to pack sleepwear for him. He was going to have to spend at least some of his money on clothes; maybe he could find a thrift store or something like that, so it wouldn't be too expensive. At least he was able to use his own t-shirt as a top.
When he emerged from the bathroom, she was leaning in the doorway that led to her room. "I dragged the futon out of the closet," she said, stepping aside and gesturing for him to join her. "There's no way in hell I'm letting you sleep on the couch, not with your ribs as bad as they are."
He gave her a sideways look. "You're just bound and determined to ruin your reputation, aren't you?" he asked her, shaking his head. "I'll agree that I don't particularly want to sleep on the couch or the floor, but why not set the futon up in the living room?"
"Because, silly, that wouldn't be half as much fun," she told him, grinning. "By tomorrow night, once my parents have agreed to let you stay, we'll probably have cleaned out the spare room. For tonight, we're going to do the stereotypical sleepover thing and talk until we fall asleep."
"Sleepover?" he repeated, amused. He and Jinpachi had often spent the night at each others' houses, of course, but he couldn't remember ever attaching such a frivolous name to the activity.
"Sure," she said, catching his hand and tugging him into the room. He followed, bemused, and set his neatly folded clothes on a chair. Seeing the made up futon on the floor, he eased himself down onto it carefully.
Sakura, already dressed in her own nightgown, turned off the lights and crawled into her bed. It was a Western style bed, which put her a couple feet above him. There was just enough light from the moon shining through the gauzy drapes for him to see her as she propped herself up on her elbow, leaning over to see him.
He settled himself under the sheet and blanket, inhaling the crisp scent of freshly laundered linens. The futon was thick enough to be comfortable, and he was already yawning as the painkillers started to take effect.
"Issei..." Sakura's voice came to him softly through the darkness. "I'm glad you trusted me enough to come to me for help."
Issei smiled, though he knew she couldn't see it. "After everything you've done for me, how could I not trust you?"
"Everything I've done for you, or everything Shusuran did?" she asked, a little pointedly. "It wasn't me you asked for on the phone."
"Sakura, I thought we weren't going to talk about that any more," he said, his voice dropping with unease. She was right, and he couldn't deny it. It had been Enju's instinct to turn to Shusuran that he'd been following the previous night. Well, he'd never claimed that all of Enju's influence in his life was for the worse. His friendship with Sakura was definitely one of the benefits that had come from remembering his past life.
"Just something to think about," she said, lying back in her bed. "You know I love you, right?"
For an awful moment he thought she was breaking their long unstated agreement not to speak about the unresolved feelings she had for him. Then his empathy kicked in, and he caught the uncomplicated affection and concern she was radiating, and he relaxed. "Of course," he replied, and this time his smile showed in his voice. "And I love you, and always will."
"I just want you to be happy with your life, Issei," Sakura told him. "Because I love you. The same way Shusuran wanted Enju to be happy. And all I see is you making yourself more and more miserable as you try to split yourself in half."
"What would you have me do, Sakura?" he asked with a sigh. "I'm not trying to make myself miserable, I assure you. But the more I fight against the things in my life that make me unhappy, the worse they seem to get."
"Then maybe you should stop fighting them and learn to accept them, instead," she said, reaching down to touch his unblemished cheek with gentle fingers. "Maybe fighting against them is what's making you unhappy in the first place."
"Giving in to my feelings for Jinpachi did nothing but strain my friendship with him," he pointed out. Despite the harsh tone of his words, he leaned into her touch, closing his eyes and letting the contact amplify the sweet feelings of love he was receiving from her. One of his hands crept up and wrapped around her fingers.
"That's not what I meant," she said, and she sounded as frustrated as he felt. "I'm not explaining myself right. Hell, I'm no psychologist. I'm just telling you what I feel, and what I've seen. It seems like those of us who fight most against our past lives, are the unhappiest in this one."
"Alice won't even acknowledge that she is Mokuren, but she's happy now with Rin," he said. "I'll learn to balance myself in time, Sakura. In the meantime, I'd really rather not think about it for the moment."
"All right," she conceded gracefully, turning her hand to twine her fingers through his. "I'm sorry. I just worry."
"I know," he replied. "I'm an empath, remember? I can feel it. And I do appreciate it, Sakura. Don't ever think I don't."
"Well, I can't say I'd be too happy to have you poking at my psyche, so I suppose I can understand," she said, laughing softly. "Just remember that if you ever need me for anything, I'm here."
"I wouldn't be here now if I didn't know that already," he pointed out with a laugh of his own. He yawned, and made a pained noise when his wired jaws protested his body's instinctive attempts to part them.
"That didn't sound pleasant," she commented, and brushed his face one last time before pulling her hand back up onto her bed. "Get some sleep, Issei. I'll see you in the morning."
He made an affirmative noise, and lay there staring up at the ceiling, listening to the sound of her breathing even out as she fell away into slumber. Sleep had never come easily to him, even when he was exhausted.
When he was certain she was asleep, he shifted into a sitting position and crossed his arms on the edge of her mattress, resting his chin on them as he watched her. In sleep she looked delicate, more vulnerable. The sheer force of her personality was what made her so vibrant in the daytime; now it was missing, leaving only the fragile shell of her body behind.
Thinking of what she'd asked him earlier, about whether he'd ever been attracted to anyone but Jinpachi, he tried to study her both objectively and subjectively.
Objectively, it was easy to admit that she was pretty, even beautiful, though not in a classic sense. Her features were a little too strong for the strict definitions of beauty, but he doubted she had any lack of admirers. Whether or not they'd be willing to brave her sometimes abrasive personality was another matter, of course.
Subjectively... that was more difficult to judge. He'd already acknowledged that he loved her, of course. And he couldn't claim it was 'brotherly' love, because what he felt for her wasn't at all the sort of irritated affection he felt for his younger sister. Studying her face now, he tried to imagine what it would be like to kiss her.
It was hard to picture. Partly that was due to a simple lack of knowledge; his one and only kiss to date had been his over-hasty experience with Jinpachi. That had been mostly instinct and desperation on his part, and Jinpachi had been far too startled to participate, even if he hadn't been disinclined.
Of course, drawing on Enju's memories gave him more than enough fodder for his imagination. She'd done far more than merely kiss Gyokuran, and it was easy enough for him to picture that. For that matter, he'd never had any trouble daydreaming about kissing Jinpachi. But he still couldn't quite wrap his mind around the idea of desiring Sakura that way.
So, there was his answer. He wasn't attracted to her, however much he loved her. He sighed silently, a rueful smile on his lips. Perhaps he should start praying to Sarjareem to transfer his affections from Jinpachi to Sakura. It would make everything so much easier.
A slight hitch in her breathing drew his gaze from her lips to her eyes, and he was startled to see the faintest hint of glitter between her lashes. She was watching him, her eyes barely open, trying not to alert him to the fact that she was awake. For a long, awkward moment they stared at each other, then Issei blushed and looked away.
She didn't move, her eyes falling completely shut, and he took the opportunity to lay back down on his futon. His heart was pounding and his breathing was unsteady, and he struggled to calm both. Hopefully, that moment of stupidity and curiosity on his part wouldn't make things awkward between them in the future. The fact that she was willing to pretend she'd been asleep through his contemplation of her meant that they could at least try to act like it hadn't happened.
What was he thinking? Nothing had 'happened'. It wasn't like he'd kissed her, even if he had been thinking about it. He shifted so he was wrapped around his pillow, sighing into the soft fabric covering it. Sarjareem, why couldn't you have made things easier on both of us? he asked his silent goddess ruefully. Sometimes I wonder if you enjoy tormenting us.
Immediately he felt guilty for the uncharitable thought, and he silently asked for forgiveness. Sarjareem was a benevolent goddess, but she let her people make their own mistakes, and learn from them. It was his own fault that he was trapped in this male body; she had only given him what he'd asked for, if not quite what he'd intended. All he could do was hope that he'd be wiser when the time to chose his next incarnation's form came around.
They managed to spend the rest of the day relaxing, for the most part. Sakura insisted on watching her J-Drama shows in the afternoon; within fifteen minutes Issei was both totally lost in the complex character interactions, and also totally hooked. He'd pestered his friend with questions about the shows until she'd laughed and dragged out her recordings of the earlier episodes, and they'd settled in to spend most of the day in unproductive TV watching.
They'd spend time together before, just hanging out or talking, but it was usually either the two of them out doing something together, or her comforting him after his latest Jinpachi-related heartbreak. This was the first time they'd just sat around at her house, and he found he was enjoying himself greatly.
Eventually they found they were dozing off and missing large chunks of the episodes, and they gave in and admitted defeat. "Why haven't we ever done something like this before?" Issei asked as he stood and attempted to stretch without straining his ribs. "It was fun."
Sakura stifled a yawn behind her hand, and chuckled. "Because it never occurred to me that you might enjoy it, honestly," she told him. At his bewildered look, she elaborated, "Issei, how many guys do you know who would enjoy spending an entire afternoon and evening watching a show that's entirely about relationship issues?"
He thought about that, and flushed, seeing her point. There was a reason these kinds of shows were targeted to young women. Most guys would have fallen asleep or tried to change the channel after about five minutes of watching a J-Drama.
"Hey, there's nothing wrong with you enjoying it," Sakura said, seeing and correctly interpreting his flush. She patted him on the shoulder. "There are plenty of guys who do like these shows. And plenty of girls who don't."
Issei shook his head. "Enju asked Sarjareem to reincarnate her as a male so she could be closer to Gyokuran. But she forgot to ask for her soul to become male, as well. It's frustrating, sometimes. I'll think I finally have a handle on what part of me is her, and what part of me is me, and then I'll turn around and find something else about me that doesn't fit."
She blinked at him, tilting her head. "What makes you think you can separate yourself from her that way, Issei? You talk like you're two separate people; actually, more like she's someone that just sits inside your head, distinct from you."
"I'm not Enju," he insisted, frowning. "I may have the same soul she did, but I'm not her. I don't want to let her life and experiences influence my life or personality. I want to be me, not her. The me I would have been if I'd never remembered anything about her life."
"I don't see how you can avoid having her life influence yours," Sakura replied. "Maybe you would have been different if you'd never remembered anything about her. I'm not so sure about that; Alice is an awful lot like Mokuren, and she doesn't remember anything at all other than that one brief glimpse. But whether or not you would have been different is a moot point, Issei. You do remember things about her life, and by remembering them, they've influenced you just as if you'd experienced them yourself. Because you did experience them, just not in this lifetime."
"But why are there so many aspects of my personality that are feminine?" he said, frustrated. "Surely it can't be that unusual for a soul to switch gender from one incarnation to the next. And I never had any problems until I started dreaming about her life."
"Are you sure about that?" she countered. "Did people start telling you that you'd changed when you started having the moon dreams, Issei? Did you find yourself doing things that seemed out of character? Or did you just start realizing why you sometimes behaved the way you already did?"
"I..." Issei sighed and shook his head. "I don't know. It was too long ago, and too gradual a process. But whatever the result, I can't go back and change it now. That doesn't mean I have to be happy living with it, though."
She hugged him again. "And so long as you think of it that way, you never will be happy living with it, Issei. You need to learn to accept yourself as you are - and that means accepting the part of you that is Enju, too, not trying to shut her away in a box."
Issei rubbed his face with his hand, carefully not touching the side his father had punched him on. "Sakura, please... can we not argue about this right now?" he asked wearily. He was exhausted, his pain medication had worn off a while ago, and the last thing he needed to be brooding about right now was the reason he was in this situation in the first place. He'd managed to forget himself and have fun while they were watching the TV; now he felt like he'd been dragged down and mired in quicksand again.
"I'm sorry, that was thoughtless of me," she apologized immediately, biting her lip and touching his arm in concern. "You look like hell, no offence. Want me to get your pain medication for you?"
"Please?" he agreed, and hugged her briefly. "I know you're only trying to help, Sakura. But I guess there are some things I just have to work out on my own, and my feelings about Enju are part of them."
"I worry about you, that's all," she said, patting his arm again before heading off to retrieve his medication from where he'd left it in the kitchen.
She came back carrying a pair of pyjama pants as well, and a toothbrush still in its wrapping. "I grabbed a pair of my dad's old pyjamas from his drawer, he won't mind," she said, handing them to him. "And I don't know if you can brush your teeth with your jaws wired shut like that, but I figured it couldn't hurt to try."
"Thanks," he said, taking the items and vanishing into the bathroom to ready himself for bed. The medications were all liquid, since he couldn't swallow a pill at the moment. He'd already been warned that he'd have to subsist on protein drinks and other liquid foods until his jaw healed, and he wasn't looking forward to it.
He felt awkward wearing her father's pyjamas, but it was that or sleep in his clothes. His sister hadn't thought to pack sleepwear for him. He was going to have to spend at least some of his money on clothes; maybe he could find a thrift store or something like that, so it wouldn't be too expensive. At least he was able to use his own t-shirt as a top.
When he emerged from the bathroom, she was leaning in the doorway that led to her room. "I dragged the futon out of the closet," she said, stepping aside and gesturing for him to join her. "There's no way in hell I'm letting you sleep on the couch, not with your ribs as bad as they are."
He gave her a sideways look. "You're just bound and determined to ruin your reputation, aren't you?" he asked her, shaking his head. "I'll agree that I don't particularly want to sleep on the couch or the floor, but why not set the futon up in the living room?"
"Because, silly, that wouldn't be half as much fun," she told him, grinning. "By tomorrow night, once my parents have agreed to let you stay, we'll probably have cleaned out the spare room. For tonight, we're going to do the stereotypical sleepover thing and talk until we fall asleep."
"Sleepover?" he repeated, amused. He and Jinpachi had often spent the night at each others' houses, of course, but he couldn't remember ever attaching such a frivolous name to the activity.
"Sure," she said, catching his hand and tugging him into the room. He followed, bemused, and set his neatly folded clothes on a chair. Seeing the made up futon on the floor, he eased himself down onto it carefully.
Sakura, already dressed in her own nightgown, turned off the lights and crawled into her bed. It was a Western style bed, which put her a couple feet above him. There was just enough light from the moon shining through the gauzy drapes for him to see her as she propped herself up on her elbow, leaning over to see him.
He settled himself under the sheet and blanket, inhaling the crisp scent of freshly laundered linens. The futon was thick enough to be comfortable, and he was already yawning as the painkillers started to take effect.
"Issei..." Sakura's voice came to him softly through the darkness. "I'm glad you trusted me enough to come to me for help."
Issei smiled, though he knew she couldn't see it. "After everything you've done for me, how could I not trust you?"
"Everything I've done for you, or everything Shusuran did?" she asked, a little pointedly. "It wasn't me you asked for on the phone."
"Sakura, I thought we weren't going to talk about that any more," he said, his voice dropping with unease. She was right, and he couldn't deny it. It had been Enju's instinct to turn to Shusuran that he'd been following the previous night. Well, he'd never claimed that all of Enju's influence in his life was for the worse. His friendship with Sakura was definitely one of the benefits that had come from remembering his past life.
"Just something to think about," she said, lying back in her bed. "You know I love you, right?"
For an awful moment he thought she was breaking their long unstated agreement not to speak about the unresolved feelings she had for him. Then his empathy kicked in, and he caught the uncomplicated affection and concern she was radiating, and he relaxed. "Of course," he replied, and this time his smile showed in his voice. "And I love you, and always will."
"I just want you to be happy with your life, Issei," Sakura told him. "Because I love you. The same way Shusuran wanted Enju to be happy. And all I see is you making yourself more and more miserable as you try to split yourself in half."
"What would you have me do, Sakura?" he asked with a sigh. "I'm not trying to make myself miserable, I assure you. But the more I fight against the things in my life that make me unhappy, the worse they seem to get."
"Then maybe you should stop fighting them and learn to accept them, instead," she said, reaching down to touch his unblemished cheek with gentle fingers. "Maybe fighting against them is what's making you unhappy in the first place."
"Giving in to my feelings for Jinpachi did nothing but strain my friendship with him," he pointed out. Despite the harsh tone of his words, he leaned into her touch, closing his eyes and letting the contact amplify the sweet feelings of love he was receiving from her. One of his hands crept up and wrapped around her fingers.
"That's not what I meant," she said, and she sounded as frustrated as he felt. "I'm not explaining myself right. Hell, I'm no psychologist. I'm just telling you what I feel, and what I've seen. It seems like those of us who fight most against our past lives, are the unhappiest in this one."
"Alice won't even acknowledge that she is Mokuren, but she's happy now with Rin," he said. "I'll learn to balance myself in time, Sakura. In the meantime, I'd really rather not think about it for the moment."
"All right," she conceded gracefully, turning her hand to twine her fingers through his. "I'm sorry. I just worry."
"I know," he replied. "I'm an empath, remember? I can feel it. And I do appreciate it, Sakura. Don't ever think I don't."
"Well, I can't say I'd be too happy to have you poking at my psyche, so I suppose I can understand," she said, laughing softly. "Just remember that if you ever need me for anything, I'm here."
"I wouldn't be here now if I didn't know that already," he pointed out with a laugh of his own. He yawned, and made a pained noise when his wired jaws protested his body's instinctive attempts to part them.
"That didn't sound pleasant," she commented, and brushed his face one last time before pulling her hand back up onto her bed. "Get some sleep, Issei. I'll see you in the morning."
He made an affirmative noise, and lay there staring up at the ceiling, listening to the sound of her breathing even out as she fell away into slumber. Sleep had never come easily to him, even when he was exhausted.
When he was certain she was asleep, he shifted into a sitting position and crossed his arms on the edge of her mattress, resting his chin on them as he watched her. In sleep she looked delicate, more vulnerable. The sheer force of her personality was what made her so vibrant in the daytime; now it was missing, leaving only the fragile shell of her body behind.
Thinking of what she'd asked him earlier, about whether he'd ever been attracted to anyone but Jinpachi, he tried to study her both objectively and subjectively.
Objectively, it was easy to admit that she was pretty, even beautiful, though not in a classic sense. Her features were a little too strong for the strict definitions of beauty, but he doubted she had any lack of admirers. Whether or not they'd be willing to brave her sometimes abrasive personality was another matter, of course.
Subjectively... that was more difficult to judge. He'd already acknowledged that he loved her, of course. And he couldn't claim it was 'brotherly' love, because what he felt for her wasn't at all the sort of irritated affection he felt for his younger sister. Studying her face now, he tried to imagine what it would be like to kiss her.
It was hard to picture. Partly that was due to a simple lack of knowledge; his one and only kiss to date had been his over-hasty experience with Jinpachi. That had been mostly instinct and desperation on his part, and Jinpachi had been far too startled to participate, even if he hadn't been disinclined.
Of course, drawing on Enju's memories gave him more than enough fodder for his imagination. She'd done far more than merely kiss Gyokuran, and it was easy enough for him to picture that. For that matter, he'd never had any trouble daydreaming about kissing Jinpachi. But he still couldn't quite wrap his mind around the idea of desiring Sakura that way.
So, there was his answer. He wasn't attracted to her, however much he loved her. He sighed silently, a rueful smile on his lips. Perhaps he should start praying to Sarjareem to transfer his affections from Jinpachi to Sakura. It would make everything so much easier.
A slight hitch in her breathing drew his gaze from her lips to her eyes, and he was startled to see the faintest hint of glitter between her lashes. She was watching him, her eyes barely open, trying not to alert him to the fact that she was awake. For a long, awkward moment they stared at each other, then Issei blushed and looked away.
She didn't move, her eyes falling completely shut, and he took the opportunity to lay back down on his futon. His heart was pounding and his breathing was unsteady, and he struggled to calm both. Hopefully, that moment of stupidity and curiosity on his part wouldn't make things awkward between them in the future. The fact that she was willing to pretend she'd been asleep through his contemplation of her meant that they could at least try to act like it hadn't happened.
What was he thinking? Nothing had 'happened'. It wasn't like he'd kissed her, even if he had been thinking about it. He shifted so he was wrapped around his pillow, sighing into the soft fabric covering it. Sarjareem, why couldn't you have made things easier on both of us? he asked his silent goddess ruefully. Sometimes I wonder if you enjoy tormenting us.
Immediately he felt guilty for the uncharitable thought, and he silently asked for forgiveness. Sarjareem was a benevolent goddess, but she let her people make their own mistakes, and learn from them. It was his own fault that he was trapped in this male body; she had only given him what he'd asked for, if not quite what he'd intended. All he could do was hope that he'd be wiser when the time to chose his next incarnation's form came around.