You think it's easy being the one everyone calls when the world's falling apart? 'You're a God, you'll fix it,' they say. But when I'm drowning, who's there to save me? Oh, right—me. Always me.
Sitting in my room at Hiyori's shrine, I sighed, letting that thought drift through my mind. I'd heard it somewhere ages ago—probably in some anime marathon I watched on a quiet night while mortals fretted about things like taxes and midterms. But today, it was hitting a little close to home. Here I was, the God of Reality, Master of Everything from Atoms to Timelines, yet the universe had somehow decreed that today was chore day, and the only thing I was apparently allowed to control was the laundry schedule.
For a guy who could rewrite the laws of existence on a whim, I sure had a funny life.
Hiyori's voice rang out from the hall, firm and serious. "Y/N! Did you take down the laundry?"
I sighed, rolling my eyes, but calling back in my most nonchalant voice, "Of course, Hiyori. I'm right on it." I wasn't right on it. The laundry was still swaying on the line in the back, happy as ever in the breeze. But hey, I had plans for today—plans that involved a long nap, not airing out futons. There was only so much divine energy a God could spare before he needed some me time.
"Y/N!" Her voice came again, louder. "If you're lazing around, I swear…"
I trudged out with a dramatic sigh, walking through the shrine like I was off to a battle I didn't want to win. I caught sight of Mikaboshi peering around the corner, her big, sparkling eyes watching me. She was adorable, looking all innocent with that childlike smile that hid way more chaos than her 9-year-old appearance let on. She giggled when she saw me dragging my feet.
"Is Hiyori making you work again?" she asked, laughing. "What else is new?"
I stuck out my tongue at her, making a big show of my reluctance. "Yeah, yeah. Your big brother's gotta suffer so everyone else can relax." I flopped my hands dramatically, making her giggle even harder. But on the inside, something twisted up just a little.
Sure, I acted like it was no big deal. It's what I did, after all. Who was I to complain? I had eternity. I'd seen things, done things mortals couldn't even dream of. So if my life was reduced to picking up after others and running errands, it was just part of the deal, right? My existence couldn't be that simple—not when I was me, the god of reality. I should've been laughing it off, shrugging and carrying on, like always. But… maybe I was getting tired of always hiding everything behind a joke.
With another sigh, I went outside, plucking up the clothes and shaking them out before folding them. My fingers worked automatically, arranging them neatly, folding and stacking. The laundry was crisp and smelled faintly of the summer air. It was simple work, the kind of mindless, repetitive thing that sometimes made me wish I could just blink and make it all disappear.
But then, where would the fun in that be? I had to keep up appearances—had to keep acting like this was all just one big joke. Because if I didn't… well, then maybe someone would start to realize that it wasn't a joke to me. That sometimes, being the "lazy god" with all the power in the world didn't feel all that powerful.
When I brought the folded clothes back in, Hiyori was in the kitchen, rolling up her sleeves and tidying the already-neat counters. She glanced up when I entered, giving me a once-over.
"Done already?" she asked, sounding half-surprised, half-skeptical.
"Of course," I said with a grin, giving a bow that was probably way too dramatic for laundry duty. "You doubt my efficiency, dear Hiyori?"
She narrowed her eyes, not quite convinced. "I'd doubt you for less. Just last week, you couldn't even find the rice container in the pantry."
"Hey! That rice was hiding. I swear it's got a mind of its own," I shot back, giving her my best look of faux-indignation. She rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath about how I "couldn't find anything even if it was staring me in the face." Classic Hiyori. No matter what I did, she always had some quip or jab ready, like it was her divine duty to keep me on my toes.
I didn't mind, really. But, yeah… sometimes, it bugged me. No matter how many times I saved them time, fixed things, looked after everyone's stuff… they still called me lazy. Sometimes I wanted to snap back, tell them I wasn't their servant, remind them that they depended on me more than they realized. But what good would that do? They'd just laugh, maybe pat my shoulder, and go right back to asking me to fetch the next thing they'd misplaced. They'd never take it seriously, even if I meant every word.
So I kept quiet. Like always.
After taking the laundry in, I went back to my room and flopped down, hoping I could squeeze in a few moments of peace before Hiyori found the next thing for me to do. But naturally, before I'd even closed my eyes, Mikaboshi popped in. Her little face poked around the door, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"Y/N, Hiyori says you're supposed to check the food storage. She thinks it's a mess."
"Of course she does." I sighed, waving her over. She scampered inside, sitting beside me on the tatami mats, legs crossed as she watched me with that innocent grin. "Hey, Mika, ever feel like the whole world just wants you to do everything while they kick back and relax?"
Mikaboshi tilted her head thoughtfully. "Not really. But then again, I don't get asked to do a lot." She giggled. "I guess that's your job."
My job. Funny thing to call it. As if they had the authority to tell me what to do. In reality, I could do as I pleased—could snap my fingers, disappear into another dimension, wipe out their memories of me. I had the power to be anywhere, do anything… and yet, here I was. Doing laundry. Making dinner. Cleaning up after everyone else's messes. All so I could stay close to them, be part of something that felt… normal. If I went anywhere else, I'd just be a god. But here? I was Hiyori's God. And if that meant getting bossed around for it… well, maybe it wasn't so bad.
I pulled myself up, patting Mikaboshi's head as I made my way to the storage. She followed, skipping along beside me. "So, what're you looking for this time?" she asked, amused as I squatted down, looking over the various containers.
"Apparently, the rice and the pickles both decided to vanish on me," I muttered, half to her, half to myself. "You'd think they'd know better than to hide from the God of Reality."
After a solid few minutes of rummaging, I finally found the rice… wedged behind a jar of miso. Of course. I wasn't even surprised. I grabbed it, giving it a glare for good measure. But as I set it back where it belonged, I heard footsteps behind me. Hiyori had arrived.
"Oh, there it is," she said, crossing her arms with a faint smirk. "You can never find anything, can you, Y/N?"
I sighed, trying not to let my irritation show. "It's not my fault the rice has abandonment issues."
She snorted, turning away. "Maybe next time, I'll look for it myself."
And off she went, leaving me there with a half-amused, half-frustrated look on my face. It wasn't like this was anything new. Just another day of me being the resident clown, always messing things up, always the one they could rib and boss around. The others might not realize it, but… sometimes it felt like I was the one keeping this whole thing together. I was the one running the little errands, keeping everyone happy and fed. And if I messed up? Well, it was just Y/N being Y/N. No big deal, right?
But sometimes, yeah… sometimes I wanted to scream.
Not because I hated them or didn't want to be here, but because it felt like I was walking a fine line between being useful and being… invisible. They saw me, sure, they joked around, called me lazy, told me to pull my weight. But did they really see me? The god who'd seen worlds born and crumble? The guy who had a hundred memories no one else would ever know?
I shook it off. There was no point in letting myself get all broody over something that couldn't change. I wasn't about to turn around and demand that they appreciate me more. That wasn't my style. Besides, they didn't mean anything by it. Hiyori, Mikaboshi, even the others—they all just saw me as… well, me. The goof, the oddball, the one they could rely on to be there no matter what. And I guess that was fine.
But there were days when it wore me down, even if I'd never admit it out loud. Days like today, when everyone's demands piled up until they became a mountain, and I was the only one expected to climb it. Still, I shook my head, giving myself a little pep talk.
I mean, c'mon, I was the God of Reality! The cosmic caretaker of existence. I could handle a few chores and a couple of snide comments. In the grand scheme of things, this was nothing. And besides, it wasn't like anyone would listen if I complained. Not really.
It was just easier to keep everyone laughing and never let on that anything bothered me. As I rummaged through the pantry for something Hiyori swore I'd misplaced (again), I let my thoughts drift back to some of the stranger, darker things I'd witnessed in my long, long life. I'd seen gods rise and fall, empires collapse, and worlds that bloomed just to wither into dust. I'd faced down demons, stared into the depths of despair, and come out the other side.
And yet, here I was, struggling to find a missing bottle of soy sauce. Funny how things turned out.
At that moment, Mikaboshi skipped into the room again, her eyes lighting up with that mischievous spark that never failed to lift my spirits, even if just a little. "Y/N, guess what? I found the soy sauce! Hiyori had it all along! She just didn't remember where she put it."
"Figures," I muttered, putting on my best eye-roll as I straightened up. "Looks like I was right after all."
Mikaboshi giggled, watching me with a curious tilt of her head. "Hey, Y/N… you ever get tired of everyone bossing you around all the time?"
I gave her a half-smile, a shrug that was more real than I'd intended. "Oh, I dunno. Maybe a little. But it keeps things interesting, I guess. Besides, if I didn't have you all ordering me around, I'd probably get bored and start meddling with reality again."
She laughed, a soft sound that filled the room, and for a moment, I let myself enjoy it. Despite everything, I couldn't deny that she and Hiyori—and even the ones who called me lazy and took me for granted—were the reason I stuck around. They were the family I'd found in this world, and for all the mundane struggles and endless nagging, they kept me grounded. Maybe that was enough.
Or maybe, I thought, suppressing a smirk, I just hadn't learned my lesson yet.
As I leaned against the counter, arms crossed, Mikaboshi settled beside me, her smile fading into a thoughtful expression. "You know… you don't have to pretend with us. You're always making jokes, but I think Hiyori and I know there's more going on."
Her words took me off guard. For a moment, I wasn't sure how to respond. She'd seen right through me with the innocent wisdom that only she seemed to possess. There was something humbling about it.
"Mika…" I trailed off, gathering my thoughts. "It's… not that I'm pretending, exactly. I just like keeping things light. It's easier, you know?"
She nodded, her expression soft. "But it's okay to be yourself. Even gods need that."
I chuckled, a real, quiet laugh that surprised even me. "You know, Mika, sometimes you're way too wise for your age."
"I've had a lot of time to practice," she replied, grinning. Her expression softened, turning serious. "You don't have to do everything, you know. We're all here for you, even if we don't always show it."
Her words hit me in a way I hadn't expected. I gave her a small nod, one that held a little more gratitude than I could express. She was right, in her own way. Maybe I didn't have to carry it all by myself. Maybe it was okay to be more than just the clown, the easygoing god who never showed a crack in his armor.
And then, as if sensing the weight in the air, she stood up, brushing herself off. "Well, I better get back before Hiyori realizes I've been hiding out in here. She's got me on vegetable chopping duty."
"Lucky you," I replied, managing a grin. "If you need any pointers on slicing and dicing, just call the god of reality."
She laughed, giving me a playful shove before bouncing out of the room. And just like that, I was left alone with my thoughts again. Only this time, they felt a little lighter.
As I looked around the quiet kitchen, I felt a strange sort of peace settle over me. Maybe I was always going to be the one they relied on, the one they turned to for the small things that kept life running smoothly. And maybe I'd never get the thanks or recognition that, if I were being honest, I sometimes wished for.
But that was okay. Because I knew that, in my own way, I was holding them all together. I was the one they could depend on, even if they didn't always realize it. And that, I realized, was enough.
At that moment, Hiyori came bustling back in, a slight scowl on her face as she looked around. "Y/N, I thought I asked you to start dinner."
I smirked, giving her an exaggerated bow. "Right away, my lady."
She rolled her eyes but didn't protest as I took over, grabbing the pots and ingredients. She stayed in the kitchen, working beside me without a word. It was almost comfortable, this silent understanding between us. She didn't say thank you, and I didn't expect her to. But maybe that was our way of showing we cared. In this little family, in this quiet shrine, we all had our roles to play. And mine, I was beginning to realize, was one I wouldn't trade for anything.
Just as I was about to finish prepping the meal, Hiyori glanced over at me, a faint smile on her lips. "You know, for a lazy god, you're not half bad at this."
I laughed, a sound that felt free, like a weight had lifted. "Well, somebody's gotta keep you all fed. Besides, what's life without a little chaos?"
She gave a snort of laughter, shaking her head. "I swear, Y/N, sometimes I think you're the only reason this whole place hasn't fallen apart."
"Ah," I replied, grinning. "But where's the fun in a perfect world?"
She didn't reply, just gave me a look that said more than words could. And in that moment, I knew that even though they might never say it, Hiyori, Mikaboshi, and even the others understood. They saw me, maybe more than I'd given them credit for.
As we stood there, the quiet rhythm of cooking and conversation filling the room, I found myself smiling, a real, contented smile. This was my place, my strange little family. And maybe, just maybe, I didn't need to hide so much behind the jokes.
Sometimes, it was enough to just… be here.
As we finished cooking, the quiet warmth of the kitchen wrapped around us like a comfortable silence that didn't need to be broken. For once, I didn't feel the need to fill it with jokes or banter. Instead, I let myself be still, feeling the weight of the moment. This wasn't some grand battle or cosmic event, but a simple meal with people who'd become my family. And somehow, that felt even more powerful.
Hiyori caught me staring at the food, lost in thought. "What is it now?" she asked, a faint grin on her lips, amused and a little curious.
I shrugged, giving her a small smile. "Just thinking. About how weird life can be. How one minute, you're floating around in the cosmos, watching worlds spin and stars die, and the next, you're here… trying to make sure the miso doesn't burn."
She chuckled, rolling her eyes, but this time, there was warmth there, too. "Yeah. Life is strange like that."
I nodded, letting out a soft sigh. "Guess that's the beauty of it. The big stuff, the small stuff—it's all… stuff. But maybe that's what makes it worth sticking around for."
Hiyori glanced at me, something thoughtful in her gaze. "You're… surprisingly wise sometimes, you know that?"
"Only sometimes," I replied, grinning. But then, more seriously, I added, "I guess what I'm trying to say is… we're all just trying to figure things out. It doesn't matter how powerful or important you think you are. At the end of the day, maybe the real meaning is in the ordinary moments. Because sometimes… the biggest battles are the ones no one else sees."
And as the words hung in the air, I realized it was something I'd come to believe with all my heart. So if you take anything from me, remember this: Don't just live to exist. Find the small moments that make you feel alive. That's where life is.