The shrine was unusually quiet today. Hiyori had gone off to some spirit meeting or whatever, and I was left alone to hold down the fort. Not that there was much to do here except stare at the foxes and maybe mess with some pilgrims if they were brave enough to show up. But, of course, today of all days, no one did. Not even Koyasu showed his glowing face around here. He was probably passed out under a bridge.
I paced back and forth along the wooden porch, the sun already dipping behind the mountains, casting long shadows that stretched like fingers across the courtyard. The wind rustled through the trees, and the foxes lazed around in the afternoon sun, oblivious to my boredom. I glanced at the shrine's main hall, where I kept most of the stuff we didn't use—old scrolls, spare shrine maidens' outfits, a few rusty swords from who-knows-when.
And then there was Inochi, the talking katana, still sitting on the katanakake after all these years.
I wandered over to the entrance of the hall and slid open the door. Inside, it was dim and cool, a few rays of sunlight piercing through the gaps in the old wooden walls. My eyes landed on the stand holding Inochi, her sheath covered in a thin layer of dust. She hadn't seen the light of day in ages. I had to admit, I'd almost forgotten about her.
I walked over and stood in front of her, hands on my hips. "Well, well, well," I said, breaking the silence. "Look who's been gathering dust all this time."
There was a moment of stillness, and then, muffled through the sheath, I heard Inochi's familiar, stern voice. "I'm still here, if that's what you're wondering."
I smirked. "Yeah, I know. You've been awfully quiet, though. I was starting to think you'd given up on lecturing me."
She let out a resigned sigh. "I figured it would be pointless. You never listen anyway."
I chuckled. "True enough." I reached out, brushing the dust off her sheath. "You know, I haven't unsheathed you in a long time. What do you think about coming out for a bit?"
"Is that wise?" she asked cautiously. "The last time you unsheathed me, you tried to cut open the Heavens."
I shrugged. "I was twelve. What did you expect?"
"Some restraint, perhaps," she said dryly.
I grinned. "Yeah, well, you should know by now that's not really my style."
Without further ado, I grabbed the hilt and pulled her out of the sheath with a smooth, ringing sound. The blade glowed faintly, reflecting the little light in the room, and for a moment, it almost looked alive. I held her up, admiring the craftsmanship. "Still as sharp as ever," I said. "Not bad for a toy I made when I was a kid."
Inochi's voice came through, clear and strong now. "I am more than just a toy, Y/N."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. You're the Blade of Life, created from a piece of reality itself. You've told me a hundred times."
"You are insufferable," she muttered.
"Again, something you've mentioned a hundred times," I replied, twirling her lightly in my hand. "But hey, I'm bored, and you're the closest thing I have to company right now."
"How charming," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Am I supposed to feel honored?"
I sat down on the floor, leaning back against a wooden pillar, still holding her in my lap. "Come on, Inochi. Don't be like that. We've got some catching up to do. How's it feel, being stuck in a sheath all these years?"
"It has been... dull," she admitted after a moment. "And frustrating. I was made to cut through the fabric of existence, not sit on a dusty stand."
"Fair point," I said. "I guess I've been neglecting you a bit."
She let out a huff. "More than a bit."
"Okay, a lot," I conceded. "But hey, you're out now. And there's a lot more to talk about than there was a thousand years ago."
"Like what?" she asked, her tone still skeptical.
"Well, let's see," I said, thinking. "I've met a lot of interesting people lately. There's Hiyori—she's a kitsune who's the only one who actually worships me, though she acts like she hates my guts. Then there's Sora, a human kid who doesn't believe in gods but wants to study us anyway. There's Fukuhara, who lives in the mountains and likes to pretend he's some kind of holy man... and Koyasu, the homeless drunk who floats around town. I knew you didn't know about Hiyori but seriously, did you forget the others, we used to fight alongside each other back in the day?"
Inochi was silent for a moment. "It sounds like you've surrounded yourself with an odd assortment of some mortals and spirits."
"Yeah, you could say that," I said with a grin. "But they keep things interesting."
"You were always drawn to chaos," she remarked. "Even from the moment you created me. Do you ever tire of it?"
I leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. "Nope. Chaos is where the fun happens. You get to see people for what they really are when things go to Hell. Besides, being all 'orderly' and 'predictable' isn't my style."
Inochi seemed to consider this. "And what do you get out of it, Y/N? You've lived for eons. You've seen more than most gods. What drives you?"
I thought about that for a moment. "I guess... I just like seeing what people do. What they make of themselves. Mortals are so unpredictable, and gods, well, they're not much better. You give them a little push, and they either crumble or shine."
"Do you ever regret it?" she asked. "Any of the chaos you've sown?"
I tilted my head, thinking back over the ages. "Sometimes. Not often, though. I've seen some shit go sideways that even I didn't expect, and yeah, it sucked. But most of the time, it's worth it. The stories that come out of it, the way people react—it's all so... alive."
Inochi sighed. "You are reckless, Y/N. And yet, there is something admirable in your willingness to see things through, no matter the consequences."
I grinned. "Was that a compliment? From the Blade of Life herself?"
"Don't get used to it," she replied, but I could almost hear a smile in her voice.
I twirled her again, feeling the weight of the blade balanced in my hand. "You know, I kind of missed you, Inochi. You've got a way with words. And you don't bore me to death like half the gods up there."
"I suppose that is the highest praise I could hope for," she said dryly.
"Exactly," I said with a chuckle. "So, any thoughts on what we should do next? I could use some excitement."
"Perhaps," she suggested, "you could try something constructive for once."
I laughed. "Now that's asking a bit much. But maybe I'll consider it."
The shrine was quiet, but for the first time in a while, I felt a little more at ease. Sometimes, you just needed to have a conversation with an old friend—even if that friend happened to be a sentient katana that lectured you like a stern aunt.
"Alright, Inochi," I said, getting to my feet and sliding her back into the sheath. "I'll keep you out for a bit. We'll see where the day takes us."
"Try not to get us both killed," she replied, a hint of amusement in her voice.
"Wouldn't dream of it," I said, slinging her over my back. "Let's go see what kind of trouble we can find."
With Inochi now securely sheathed and slung over my back, I wandered out of the shrine and down the stone steps. The midday sun was high in the sky, warming the cobblestones beneath my feet. The foxes lazed about, uninterested in my newfound enthusiasm. A part of me wondered what Hiyori would say if she knew I was talking to an old blade like it was a long-lost friend. She'd probably just shake her head and mutter about how I never change.
"Alright, Inochi," I said as I walked, "where to first? I feel like it's been a while since I've caused some good, old-fashioned chaos."
"Must you always resort to chaos?" she replied, her voice muffled from within the sheath. "You could always attempt a more meaningful endeavor. Perhaps aid those in need?"
I snorted. "Look, I'm not some goody-two-shoes god. I deal in chaos because it's fun and unpredictable. Helping people is Hiyori's thing."
"Is it truly so wrong to consider something different for a change?" she asked, a slight edge to her voice. "After all, you were once driven by more than just amusement."
I paused for a moment, considering her words. She wasn't wrong. There was a time when I had more lofty goals than just messing around. But eons of existence had a way of wearing down those old ambitions.
"Maybe you're right," I admitted, surprising even myself. "Maybe I could do something a bit more... constructive. Just this once."
"Good," Inochi said, and I could practically hear the smile in her voice. "Then let us see where this path takes us."
I continued down the road that led from the shrine, passing a few villagers going about their business. Most of them ignored me; a few nodded in polite greeting. My reputation around here was mixed, to say the least. Some folks thought I was just another eccentric shrine dweller. Others knew a bit more about who—or what—I was.
I decided to head into town. There was a marketplace not too far from the shrine where the locals traded everything from rice to fish, to handmade trinkets. It was always bustling with activity, which meant there was always a chance something interesting could happen.
The closer I got to the marketplace, the louder it became—the hum of voices, the clatter of carts, the occasional bark from a stray dog. I could smell fresh fish, grilled meat, and the distinct scent of spices wafting through the air.
"Ah, the market," I said, breathing in deeply. "Always a good place to start some fun."
"Perhaps you could try not starting trouble for once," Inochi suggested.
"Where's the fun in that?" I replied, grinning.
As I reached the marketplace, I noticed a crowd gathered around a small stall. It was a fortune-teller's booth, with bright red paper lanterns swaying in the breeze. A young woman with long black hair sat inside, dressed in a colorful kimono. She looked up as I approached, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she sensed something off about me.
"Come," she called out, her voice soft but clear. "Come and see what the future holds."
I felt Inochi stir slightly on my back. "I sense something unusual about her," she murmured.
"Yeah?" I said, tilting my head. "Like what?"
"She is not an ordinary human," Inochi replied. "She carries a certain... aura. Divine, but faint."
I smirked. "Interesting. Guess we'll see what she has to say."
I walked up to the booth, and the woman's gaze locked onto mine. "You," she said slowly, "are no ordinary man."
"Got that right," I said, flashing her a grin. "What gave it away? The dashing looks, or the fact that I'm talking to a sword on my back?"
She didn't blink. "I see many things," she replied. "And I see that you are lost, wandering without a true purpose."
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I've heard that before. What else you got?"
She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. "I see a blade that is not just a blade. A weapon that speaks, forged from reality itself."
I raised an eyebrow. "Okay, now you've got my attention."
She smiled faintly. "I also see... that this blade has been idle for too long. You wield great power, but it lies dormant."
"Alright, fortune lady," I said, leaning in a bit closer. "If you know so much, why don't you tell me what I should do next?"
She closed her eyes for a moment, as if listening to something only she could hear. Then she opened them again, and her gaze was intense. "There is a place," she said, "deep within the mountains. A place where the threads of fate are tangled, where the past and future collide. You should go there."
I blinked. "And what's there?"
"Answers," she said simply. "And perhaps a challenge worthy of you."
I glanced over my shoulder at Inochi. "What do you think? Worth checking out?"
"It could be interesting," she replied. "And it would certainly be a change from your usual antics."
I grinned. "Alright then, why not? A little mountain adventure sounds like fun."
The fortune-teller nodded. "Follow the river north, until it splits into three. Take the left path. You'll find the place you seek."
"Thanks for the tip," I said, tossing her a coin. "Maybe I'll come back and tell you how it goes."
She caught the coin without looking, her eyes still focused on me. "I look forward to it."
I turned and headed out of the marketplace, feeling a bit more energized. "Well, Inochi," I said, "looks like we've got a new adventure on our hands."
"Indeed," she replied. "Let us hope it proves to be more than just another distraction."
The journey to the mountains was longer than I expected. Following the river was easy enough, but as it split into three, the terrain grew steeper and more challenging. Not that it bothered me—I'd been around long enough to handle a bit of rough terrain.
After a while, the path narrowed, and the trees grew thicker, their branches reaching out like skeletal hands. The air grew cooler, and I could feel a strange energy pulsing through the ground. I stopped for a moment, listening to the sounds around me—the rustle of leaves, the distant call of a bird, the steady flow of the river behind me.
"Getting a bit eerie, don't you think?" I said, glancing at Inochi.
"Something feels off," she agreed. "The air is thick with magic. Be cautious."
"Always," I replied, though I couldn't help but grin. "But you know how I feel about places like this. They've always got the best surprises."
As I continued onward, the trees gave way to a clearing. In the center stood a massive stone archway, covered in moss and vines, ancient and imposing. It looked like something out of another era, a gateway to another world. I approached it cautiously, feeling the air hum with energy.
I reached out and placed a hand on the stone. It was cool to the touch, almost too cold. Suddenly, I felt a pull, like the fabric of reality was stretching thin around me. Before I could react, the archway began to glow, and I was enveloped in a blinding light.
When the light faded, I found myself standing in a different place. The clearing was gone, replaced by a vast expanse of mist-covered mountains. The sky above was swirling with strange, shifting colors, like a cosmic storm frozen in place. I could feel the air vibrating with an otherworldly energy.
"Well, this is new," I muttered, looking around.
"You've crossed a threshold," Inochi said, her voice unusually calm. "This place exists between realms. Be mindful."
I stepped forward cautiously, feeling the ground shift beneath my feet. There was a narrow path winding through the mist, leading further up the mountainside. I followed it, my senses on high alert.
As I walked, I began to notice shapes in the mist—flickers of movement, shadows darting between the rocks. I paused, squinting into the fog. "Alright, who's there?" I called out.
The mist seemed to part slightly, and a figure emerged—a tall, imposing figure clad in dark samurai armor, with a face hidden behind a mask. He carried a massive sword on his back, and his presence radiated a sense of power and danger.
"Great," I muttered. "Just what I needed—another mysterious Swordsman."
The figure stepped closer, his voice deep and echoing. "You seek answers," he said. "But first, you must prove yourself worthy."
I raised an eyebrow. "Is this one of those 'fight me to earn the truth' kind of deals?"
"Yes," he replied simply, drawing his sword with a metallic ring.
I grinned, unsheathing Inochi and feeling her energy surge through my hands. "Alright, Mystery Man," I said, "let's dance."
And with that, I charged forward, the mist swirling around us as our blades clashed, sending sparks flying into the air.