A/N: To those of you who had reviewed in the last couple of months, THANK YOU. It is because of you and your kind words of encouragement that I came back and am continuing this story. Outline of Chapter 6 is WIP.
The power of positive feedback is a warm and invigorating thing. I promise to have the next chapter done sooner rather than later.
~DE
Chapter 5: More Than You Bargained For
Hiyori's face was burning. Her stomach turned, internal debate holding her tongue in the uncertainty of what her brother would say if she were to answer him. Her words were lodged in her throat. But before she could force herself to vocalize her thoughts, she was saved by a very curious Masumi.
"Wait...Masa..." she said, her face twisting in confusion. "What do you mean, god friend?"
Yato froze, his chest tightening as he held his breath. The god was shocked that Masaomi so easily blurted out two facts that weren't things he would have so freely advertised to someone he had never met. But it was too late.
Guess there's no hiding it, now, is there?
Yato exhaled sharply through his nose.
"Well, this isn't exactly the way I care to introduce myself," he said in resignation. "But yes, my name is Yato-called 'Yatogami' by some. I am trying to make my name as a God of Fortune." He stood up, pulled out one of his business cards from his jersey pocket and presented it to the baffled young woman. The god gave her a moment to read it, watching as she raised a single incredulous brow.
"Yukine, here," he said quite matter-of-fact as he gestured toward the blond, "is my regalia. He is the weapon I use in imparting justice and granting wishes." He took a few steps back, as Yukine gave him a scowl.
"You idiot, not in the hou-"
"Come, Sekki."
Yukine disappeared before their eyes in a flash of light and the dual swords suddenly materialized, sharp and gleaming in Yato's hands.
"You just had to show off, didn't you?" Yukine grumbled. "Well, it looks like she believes you now."
Masumi's eyes were round like saucers. Hiyori thought they'd nearly pop out of her skull. Her older brother, on the other hand, knew full well and had the biggest grin on his face as he saw Sekki for the first time.
"He really is a god, Masumi," he said with a light laugh before gently lifting her dropped jaw. He paused a moment before eyeing him and his sister once again. "And I have got the sneaking suspicion that he and Hiyori have a thing for each other."
Yato turned bright red and sputtered Yukine's name, so he would revert. It was enough distraction to garner a moment to collect himself. Hiyori looked at him, her eyes begging him to do something.
"What say you, Hiyori?" Masaomi asked her directly. "You denied it up and down at Grandma's months ago. But now, you seem...different." He gestured to Yato. "You two have always seemed close and acted familiarly. But on the train, you two were awfully cuddly."
"Pfft..." Yukine scoffed. "That's not the half of it." He stuck his tongue out at Yato who had opened his mouth to retaliate.
Yato closed his mouth, giving pause before turning from Yukine to the couple across the table, sighing in surrender.
"It's only recent, Onii-chan," Hiyori admitted, as it took every ounce of her courage to defend herself. "You already know about some of the stuff I've been through with Yato. We have come to really care about each other." She recounted once again, the story of how she met Yato by jumping in front of a bus to save his life. Giving a synopsis of how, in that moment, she became entangled in the world of the far shore.
"And now," Masaomi added exasperatedly, explaining to his fiancée, "Our grandmother's parting gift was the legend of our bloodline, and it, too, is tied to the gods. She gave Hiyori her heirloom, a old carved bow."
Masumi, astonished and enraptured by the incredible story, held her hand to her heart and smiled wide.
"This is all so...romantic," she gushed. "Hiyori, dear, you are a very special young lady."
"Th-Thanks," she replied meekly, not knowing what else to say.
"So we're here to get more details about why she has the ability that she does, how it affects our, err, situation...what kind of history is behind the bow and any possible power it may wield," Yato summarized.
Masumi merely nodded, trying to absorb all of the information being thrown at her.
Silence hung in the air for a long moment before Masaomi cleared his throat.
"So, Yato, I am curious to know..." he began, furrowing his brow slightly. "How old are you, exactly?"
The youthful looking god appeared to be counting on his fingers at first, before resting his index finger on his chin as he pondered further.
"Well, when I was very little, I can remember first hearing about Tenjin. He was still referred to as Lord Sugawara no Michizane. He was already dead at the time, but not yet a god," Yato finally replied. "So around there somewhere..."
An curious Masaomi picked up his phone and searched for the information. As he read, his eyebrows climbed higher on his forehead. His face froze, his gaze locked onto the blue-eyed god.
"You...are well over...one THOUSAND. Years. Old."
"Hmm...yeah," Yato's lip pouted as he pondered, head cocked toward something invisible above him. "...that sounds about right," Yato replied nonchalantly, totally clueless as to the reason for the question. He seemed oblivious to the dark aura building around his girlfriend's sibling, which further infuriated him. "Maybe more like eleven hun-"
"ANDYOU'REDATINGMYSIXTEENYEAROLDSISTER!" He went to launch himself over the table at Yato in a full-on overprotective big brother rage, grabbing the startled god by the throat and squeezing.
Yato called for Yukine but he refused to respond.
"The guy's got a point, Yato. It does kinda make you a creep," the shinki retorted with a snort.
Hiyori and Masumi jumped to their feet and held the older Iki down by the shoulders.
"Stop it, Onii-chan!" Hiyori shouted. "I know you don't get it. I know it seems illogical, but please, calm down!" She begged him. "You need to remember that this whole situation is far beyond any human matter."
Finally he released his grip.
"Don't give me that, Hiyori." Masaomi bit out as he stood back. "He's an old pervert god, preying on a teenage girl!"
"Are you kidding? I'm more mature than he is! And besides, it was never like that. We've always been friends. The last two years, we've spent day in and day out together, just doing normal friend stuff..." she tried to recount all the days they hung out at Kofuku's, went out to eat, went to Capypa Land, had a picnic.
Yukine cracked a crooked smile. "I don't know if hunting ayakashi, fighting gods and yokai, or making field trips to Takamagahara is 'normal friend stuff,' Hiyori."
"Well, no, but we've risked our lives for each other...all three of us. They are my best friends, and I love them very much. I refuse to ever lead a 'normal' life if that means not having them in it."
Hiyori looked her brother square in the face, unwavering and resolute.
"Masaomi," she said his name for the first time in quite a while to strike a chord of severity. "From the day I laid down my life to save Yato, I have been spiritually bound to him. We have been through crazier, more life-threatening things than any person could ever dream of. We are so tightly bound by fate. And I couldn't imagine my life without him. There is no denying where my future is."
She lay her hand on his shoulder once more, but this time with gentle assuaging. He brother winced at the conclusion his sister was coming to.
"If I am a direct descendant of a powerful and heaven-blessed priestess, and bound to a god, then I will follow the path set before me. I will take up Grandmother's bow, and be the woman the gods have intended me to be, whether human, spirit or both."
"Or goddess..." Yato piped in tenderly. "I thought about that earlier. If your ancestor became the bride of Tsukuyomi, even just in spirit, it is a pact made with the heavens. I believe that may just be the key to...'forever'."
Masumi was overwhelmed by all of this talk of gods, immortality and fate.
"Guys...I think we should leave it be for now. This is a lot for not only myself, but especially Masa, to take in," she said, her voice pleading to ease the strenuous tone of the conversation. "If all you've said is true, then Hiyori, you have some big decisions to make. And please, be careful how you go about dealing with these affairs. You are a wonderful girl. I think we all know that. Just make sure you think it all through before doing anything drastic. I mean, I certainly didn't know what I truly needed or wanted when I was a teenager." She paused and chuckled to herself. "But then again, I didn't have a god by my side either."
"I assure you, her brother, that I already vowed from very early on to protect Hiyori with my own life," Yato stated firmly. "No matter what. I, of all people, know just how special she is. She defies all logic," he continued, his eyes growing soft as his heart warmed with love and pride. "And she has become so very precious to me."
Masaomi sighed. He knew he couldn't argue with an immortal being. Those cerulean eyes glinted with the purest of intentions he spoke of her. He knew they were being honest. Both of them. He nodded, resigned to the fact he was going to lose his sister to the far shore, though likely not in death. His head began to throb from the stress of overthinking.
"I don't know about you guys, but I need a drink...or five."
The clock struck two over a hushed room. Five bodies strewn about the dining and sitting rooms, separated by a wide double shoji door, which remained open. Empty beer cans littered the low lying table top, along with two empty wine bottles, an empty sake bottle, shot glasses and a partially drank liter of Tullamore Dew, which Masumi had brought home from a trip to Ireland.
Yukine and Hiyori were curled up on opposite ends of Masumi's sofa, cuddling their respective pillows. Masaomi lay flat on his back on the tatami, with his floor cushion under his head. Masumi was curled up to him with her head on his chest and a little wet stain forming on his shirt under her face. Yato lay haphazardly through the doorway, clutching his cushion to his chest with one arm and an empty bottle of sake in the other hand as his snored lightly.
Hiyori woke at the sound of the chimes from the German-made clock on the wall. Her heart lightened as she observed the aftermath of what turned into unabashed revelry only a few hours prior. What started out as a manly competition of 'who could drink more' had quickly turned into inebriated bromantic confessions and drinking 'to family and friendship,' among other things.
"Masa...*hic*onii-san..." Yato began after they had simultaneously shotgunned their sixth beer. "You know what's going to blow your mind?"
"What, Yato-kun? Do tell..." Masaomi slurred as his smiled lopsidedly.
"I may have been alive for a long time, but..." The drunken deity paused to burp, a taste of regurgitated beer acrid on his tastebuds. "I was isolated for years...barely any contact with anyone, unless I was granting their screwed up wishes. My Father totally messed with my head...Sssseriously...Eleven fucking centuries, and I am only now learning what love, annnnd ffffriendship...and fa-*hic*-amily are about...Thanks to Hiyori."
"Wow, man...that's sad," the older Iki replied with feigned mockery. It did, in fact, explain how lonely an individual Yato must have been. "How the hell does that even *hic* hhhappen?"
"It's a lonnnnng ass st-story, Masa-nnnnii. Let's just say my dad sucks. He's a shitty...wwwhatever-he-is." Yato replied, gesturing dismissively.
"Sounds like we should do another shot," Masaomi said with a snort of laughter. He poured more of the tawny liquid into their previously used glasses. "What are we drinking to, Yato-kun?"
"Fuck that guy!"
Echoing the god, he raised his glass to Yato's.
Hiyori chuckled behind a somber smile. Her beloved God of Fortune had come a long way from his roots. She reached down toward his sleeping form as she considered waking him, but paused and decided against it. Instead she grabbed the sake bottle and gently pried it from his grasp.
He turned and groaned as he grabbed her wrist instead, threatening her balance. One eye opened sleepily and beheld her wide rosy gaze.
"Mmm, Hiyori...c'mere," he mumbled as he tugged her down.
"Y-yat-" She landed with a thud, the bottle leaving her grip and rolling away. "Ow!"
He silenced her complaint by unceremoniously shoving the cushion into her arms, freeing his own to embrace her where he lay.
Maneuvering the large cushion to support both their heads as he spooned her, she sighed. Resigning herself to the comfort of his loving, albeit currently inebriated, embrace, she shut her eyes again.
At least I'm not facing him right now.
"M'not lettin' y'go..." he hummed into her hair at the nape of her neck. The sensation sizzled her synapses.
Then he yawned, his breath hitting her nose. And she cringed.
Her nose crinkled and her face twisted at the rank of old beer and rancid whiskey, tinged with the acidity of bile.
"Ugh, Yato," she whispered. "You reek of booze."
A sleepy chuckle emanated from his chest.
"Too bad...y'stuck w'me." His arms tightened slightly around her waist for only a second, as he nuzzled deeper into her hair before relaxing and slipping back into slumber. Hiyori eventually followed.
Masumi stirred as daylight peeked through the windows, waking her fiancé. She gave his cheek a quick kiss before sitting upright and stretching away the stiffness her arms and back. She paused mid-stretch at the sight of Yato and Hiyori curled up together on the floor on the opposite side of the room.
"Hmm? What is it, Masumi?" Masaomi asked, noticing her lack of movement and trained gaze.
Masumi merely put her index finger to her closed lips, and then pointed in the direction of the doorway.
"What?" he hissed as he caught the sight for himself.
His future wife shushed him and waved her hand downward before grabbing her mobile phone from the clutter on the table.
With a playful grin she got to her feet and readied the camera, making sure her phone was still silenced. The artist was giddy with the vision of new love before her as she took various shots at different angles and framing.
"Perfect!" she whispered excitedly. Leaning back over toward the protective big brother, she showed the perfectly framed shot: framed from the shared floor cushion, both with their right arms bent and tucked underneath and Yato's face buried in Hiyori's chestnut tresses, to Yato's limp left arm draped over Hiyori's mid-section, her arm over lapping his and her hand covering his.
Masaomi's first instinct was to be upset by their proximity. But one look from his own beloved reminded him the peace he felt when they slept that way. He understood.
With a sigh, he stood up and observed them. "She really is growing up, isn't she?"
Masumi gave him a knowing look and nodded before grabbing a few of the cans off the table and heading into the kitchen.
The smell of food woke the three remaining sleepyheads. Hiyori's eyes fluttered open to the sound of pans and utensils scraping, as well as things mixing and sizzling. It then occurred to her the position she was in.
Oh no, did Onii-chan see us like this?!
She sat up with a start, looking around the room.
They cleaned everything up, and didn't even wake us?
There was a rustling beside her.
"That's some of the best sleep I've had in a while," Yato said kissing her on the back of the head.
"How on earth are you not ill?" Hiyori asked, mind blown that he didn't seem the slightest bit hungover.
"Gods don't get hung over."
"That's a lie, Yato," Yukine chimed in suddenly from the couch. "Kofuku was hurting for two whole days after the hanami picnic last year.
"W-well then I just have amazing tolerance!" he sputtered, trying to make something up to cover his fib.
"Well, you definitely don't have amazing breath, Mr. Shotgun." Hiyori retorted, heading to her room for a moment. She unzipped her luggage and retrieved her toiletry bag. "You reek of stale booze. Please go brush your teeth, and mouthwash!" She declared, handing him the required utensils to fulfill her request.
Defeated, he took the bag and headed to the washroom to do just what she'd asked.
By the time he'd come back, breakfast was on the table. Fat, tantalizing rice omelets, each with their names on it.
The five of them generally took most of the morning to relax. Yukine went for a walk with Masaomi down the street to the pharmacy for some headache medicine. Masumi was working on a commission, when Yato's curiosity got the better of him. He peered over her shoulder quietly for a few seconds, observing her work in awe. It was a portrait of a woman on her wedding day, her face glowing as she smiled in her traditional uchikake and wataboshi.
"What a lovely bride," Yato commented. His voice was far off as he simultaneously admired the level of Masumi's artwork and pictured Hiyori in the woman's place. Suddenly he was sparked with creativity.
"Hey, Masumi, do you have a sketch book I could use?" he asked, his eagerness to draw smothering every word.
"I would be a poor excuse for an artist if I didn't," she said with a chuckle, before pointing to an office-style cabinet. "I have a fresh one in there."
Yato procured said sketchbook and made himself comfy on one end of the couch.
"Is art one of your hobbies, Yato?" Masumi asked from behind her canvas.
"Yeah, mostly sketch art; ink, pencil, marker...never had the opportunity to get into painting," Yato's voice grew somber upon his cadence. Masumi picked up on the hint of regret mellowing his tone.
"Well, maybe we can find some time for me to show you some of the basics at some point," Masumi replied, smiling as she peeked out from behind her easel.
Yato's eyes lit up like a child.
"Really? That'd be awesome!" he cheered. "I look forward to it, Masumi-sensei!"
Masumi giggled at him before returning to her work. Yato did the same.
Hiyori picked up an art magazine that had been sitting on the coffee table while the scratch of Yato's pencil scratched away at rough pages.
In only a matter of five minutes, his pencil paused and he lifted the notebook toward Hiyori. There, she beheld a very accurate sketch of what she remembered resembling the red string of their fate, coiling around them and pulling them together.
Her face flushed as she gave Yato a shy smile.
That was enough to fuel his fire and continue.
Hiyori got up to make some tea, and she came back, there was a sheet stuck in the magazine. Sitting back down on her end of the couch, she gave her doting deity a curious look before opening to the page. He was blushing furiously and wouldn't hold her gaze.
And then she looked down at his second sketch.
It was the bride that Masumi was painting. Except, it was her.
Yato heard her breath catch.
"It was the first thing I thought of when I saw her painting," he said softly. "Sorry...I embarrassed you, didn't I?"
His words rung in her ears, but didn't register right away. Echoing in a distant present, she pictured herself as a bride. First as Yato's, then in her ancestor's place as the bride of Tsukuyomi. Hiyori had never thought of the idea of marriage in any serious capacity in her life. She reminded herself that she was merely sixteen and that it was the twenty-first century. There would be at least a couple years until she should be even entertaining these kinds of thoughts.
But...
Flashes of the dress Yato had made her (it had oddly resembled a bridal gown) invaded her mind, quickly followed by the "Marry Me, Hiyori" sign at Capypaland.
I had taken both as merely humorous and light hearted...
Finally, Yato's confession hit her.
"No, I'm not embarrassed," she countered. "But, this isn't the first time you've had this thought, is it?"
Words stuck in Yato's throat like peanut butter. He knew better than to get onto this subject at this point in time.
"N-no comment," he said with a shy and evasive glance.
Hiyori knew what that meant, but gave him the benefit of not pushing the subject. She wasn't ready to think of all that. But her heart couldn't help but feel light with hope for their eventual 'forever.'
Afternoon arrived with a crisp but sunny day, and the trio headed out toward the grand shrine on the western edge of town, at the base of Arashiyama, which housed one of Tsukuyomi's more well-known shrines: Matsuoo Taisha.
They would also have to pay respect to the elder mountain god, Oyamakui-no-kami, who was also revered as the god of sake, and the goddess of the ocean, Nakatsushima-hime, as this was the oldest and most sacred shrine in the old city, having existed over thirteen hundred years.
Hiyori carried her antique heirloom protectively in a coverlet, as not to alarm people with the fact that she was technically carrying a weapon.
They made their way from Hankyu-Matsuo-Taisha Station to the blazing red torii looming over the pathway into the shrine's holy ground. What lay beyond was a beautifully landscaped shrine of subtle elegance, partially nestled in the forestry at the foot of the mountain. The energy here was old. It was far more calm, more peaceful than that of Inari's. The distant trickle of water indicated the holy river and it's source, the sacred waterfall, nearby. Beyond the main gate, stained dark and accented in white and gold, lay an array of facets of this shrine. As they passed through the main gate, Yato halted in his tracks as a tingle buzzed up his spine, setting the hairs on the back of his neck on end.
He had never paid visit to this shrine in all his centuries, but something seemed strangely warm and familiar about this place. He followed Hiyori up the stairs, toward the main shrine building. She was on a mission to seek out the head priest and the miko and get answers.
As Hiyori scanned their surroundings, Yato found himself absorbed in this odd feeling he could neither pinpoint nor rid himself of. Yukine gave him a quizzical look.
"Oi, what's up with you? You're so out of it," he chided his master. "Tell me truth are you actually hungover?"
Yato snapped out of his daze a moment.
"No. I told you already...but I dunno...I've been feeling kinda weird since I stepped into the shrine grounds," Yato replied, in a hazy tone quite unlike himself.
He merely stared as Hiyori wandered off toward a doorway, unable to move.
"Are you going to be okay?" the young shinki asked, obvious concern written across his features. "Hiyori went to request an audience with a priest of the shrine. Maybe we should just wait for her here," he suggested after getting no response from the oft animated god.
Yato finally acknowledged his hafuri with a nod, as he took in the place with wide, but blank eyes. He felt as if he'd stepped into a dream, unable to separate reality from a familiar happenstance. Something was drawing him up toward the mountain, but it would have to wait.
Hiyori came back, smiling.
"The priest is ready to speak to us, Yato," she grabbed him by the hand. "C'mon!"
Yato let himself be led along until a moment of clarity hit him and he pulled his hand away.
"Hiyori, we mustn't mention who we are unless they somehow figure out that we aren't human," he explained before Hiyori could react to his momentary retreat.
She nodded in agreement and they continued on their way through some ornate doors toward the back of the shrine.
Adorned in his proper tsuneshou, the head priest stood toward the back of the room as they entered.
"Shitsureishimasu," Hiyori said as they approached, begging the priest's pardon for their imposition on a day of holiday preparation. "Thank you for seeing us today."
The priest nodded as they bowed deeply to him.
"I am Yoshida-guuji. What brings you to our shrine today?"
Hiyori stepped forward, and knelt before the priest.
"My name is Iki Hiyori. I come on behalf of my family, and my bloodline which, as my grandmother told me before her passing, is connected to this shrine," she explained, not wasting a moment of the holy man's time.
"Of which line might you be speaking, young lady?" he inquired gently.
Without hesitation, she unwrapped the coverlet and revealing the antique bow. Looking to the guuji to gauge his reaction.
His eyes widened, seemingly recognizing it's significance.
"From whom did you acquire this bow, Iki-san?"
"From my grandmother, who claimed it was her grandmother's, and her grandmother's great-great grandmother before her," she replied giving her obaasan's account verbatim. "They were holy women of this shrine in many generations past."
The priest stepped forward and gently took the antique in hand to examine it more closely.
"I can attest that this yumi is indeed an artifact of this shrine. There are only two others in existence that we know of, and they are on display here in the shrine museum."
Hiyori met the priests eyes in surprise. There are others?
"Tell me child, are you able to see beings from the spiritual realm?"
"Y-yes, sir," she replied meekly, unsure of how much she should divulge to this complete stranger.
He seemed to ponder her response a moment before asking further questions.
"Please tell me more about your 'bloodline.' What do you know about your ancestors?"
"Well, my grandmother told me we have 'cursed blood'. But to be honest, I think it a subjective name. Being able to communicate with the spirits and gods is not a curse," she defended.
The priest eyed her with a raised brow. "Gods, you say?"
"Uhh...figuratively speaking, I mean. Denizens of the Far Shore, whatever they may be," she replied quickly, trying to cover up her blunder. "Anyway, my grandmother said we are possibly descendants of a miko once favored by Tsukuyomi-sama. And that's why my ancestors had long been holy women of this shrine and possess this bow. I wanted to know if her story had any truth behind it."
The guuji stared at her wordlessly for a long moment, lifting his eyes to observe the quiet and attentive pair who accompanied her before turning to call for an attendant. A girl about Hiyori's age arrived quickly to his side, clad in the traditional white and red miko garb. Head Priest Yoshida spoke softly to her, so that Hiyori, Yato and Yukine couldn't here the exchange. The miko nodded and ran off.
"I have a priestess who is the keeper of the long-held miko traditions here at Mastuoo Taisha," he explained. "She may have insight on your lineage, and may be able to better verify things for you."
An older woman, in her seventies, entered the room from the rear entryway, carrying an old book and clad in formal female shaman attire.
"Come, my child," she beckoned with a gentle smile. "Let me see this bow."
The elder flipped about two thirds the way into the book before stopping. Alternating between reading the page and examining the markings on the bow, she muttered to herself. Her eyes widened as they lifted to Hiyori's.
Finally the crone read aloud the text before her.
"Arashiyama was blessed by the favor of the Lord of the night skies, ruler of the tides-he who could impart or change fate itself, Tsukuyomi-no-mikoto-sama. The founding clan's eldest daughter, who had..." She met Hiyori's gaze once more. "...eyes of springtime, devoted her heart and soul to his worship and the wellbeing of his shrine and worshipers. She carried a bow to protect the shrine from ayakashi and youkai. Tsukuyomi-sama visited his shrine often, finding amusement in the maiden's company. During her seventeenth year, Tsukuyomi asked her to be his bride on the night of a full moon ceremony. She had given him his word that night, but before the god could return to take her as his own, a lord of the Fujiwara clan saw her great beauty and insisted on taking her for his own, giving a small fortune to the shrine in exchange. Tsukuyomi, being a master of divination and manipulator of fate, cast a red string to forever bind himself to his love, knowing that someday, he and his maiden would be reunited."
Everyone fell silent, simply looking at Hiyori, who could feel the heat rise to her face. The elder took one last look at the bow.
"This is most definitely the yumi of lore, that belonged to the blessed miko. And you have the blessed gift. I beg of you not to call it a curse any longer, Iki-san. It is a gift, from Tsukuyomi himself."
"Oh...okay...well, then..." the poor girl stumbled. "what happened to Tsukuyomi? He was banished, along with Susanoo later on-"
"You've done you're research, young lady," the priest said with a warm smile.
She nodded, acknowledging his compliment before continuing to her point. "I can tell you for a fact that Tsukuyomi-sama has not been seen by the denizens of the far shore ever since around the approximate time this story happened."
Hiyori pleaded, "A god that widely worshiped could not have ceased to exist, so why would he be hiding?"
The elder priestess looked fondly at her, "Maybe as not to further anger the Heavens? Amaterasu did once consider Tsukuyomi her husband, though it be millennia ago. Another grudge, perhaps? Or maybe he's waiting for his bride to return?." With a shrug, she closed the book, careful with its antique pages.
"So...if I am the descendant-or...reincarnation-of this miko, I would have a red string tying me to Tsukuyomi?"
"I would assume so, according to legend," the crone replied.
"Is it possible to be tied to more than one person at a time?" Hiyori asked lastly before the silver haired shaman stood.
The woman pondered, gazing at Hiyori thoughtfully. Her gaze momentarily flickered beyond Hiyori before giving her a curious smile. "No, I'd suppose not."
Hiyori sighed with relief as the priest turned to exit the chambers through the rear door, where the woman had entered from. The priestess followed.
So maybe I'm not her after all, since I can't be tied to both Yato and Tsukuyomi at the same time...
"Oh," the old woman said with a pause. "Come tomorrow night for Hatsumode. Not only is it the eve of the New Year, it is a full moon. So we are also doing the ancient full moon ritual. The miko would be blessed by your presence, Iki-san."
She turned away from them and continued toward the door and chuckled.
"You're two friends are also welcome. Hope to see you then!"
With a wave, she left behind her the speechless trio.