I woke up to the sound of Mikaboshi humming some made-up tune in the corner of my room. It wasn't exactly a peaceful melody—it sounded like a mix between a nursery rhyme and the kind of chanting you'd hear in a horror movie right before someone gets possessed. She floated upside down, scribbling furiously in her little diary with her gradient pink eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. I wasn't sure if it was the meds or her general vibe that made the scene so unsettling.
"Mika," I mumbled, rubbing my face. "Could you, like, hum something less terrifying? You're making my shadows jealous."
She didn't even look up. "I'm documenting your failures."
"Well, that's rude," I shot back, sitting up on my futon, my white kimono crumpled from sleep. My hair stuck out in every direction, but let's face it—that's my permanent look. "What's today's entry? 'Y/N exists in disappointment again?'"
Mikaboshi flipped her diary shut and spun upright in the air, grinning. "Today's title is 'Y/N's being a bad person.'"
I laughed, running a hand through my messy white hair. "Hear this, guys: 'bad person'! Nice words! Write it down, folks. This one's for the history books." I stared directly into the void where the fourth wall used to be.
Hiyori walked in, her ears twitching with that telltale mix of annoyance and resignation. "Are you done talking to yourself?"
"Not even close."
By the time we reached Amaterasu's mansion, the sun goddess's over-the-top love for drama and golden decor was already giving me a headache. The building glowed like the sun itself, blinding enough to make sunglasses seem like a divine blessing. If I wasn't already hallucinating shadows making bad puns, I'd swear the house had its own weather system.
Mikaboshi floated beside me, sulking like the angsty void goddess she was. Hiyori kept a firm grip on my sleeve, probably because she thought I'd make a break for it.
"Do we have to do this?" Mikaboshi whined, glaring at the golden gate. "I'd rather let the mortals colonize space than sit through one of her meetings."
Hiyori sighed. "Mika, you're not even old enough to drink sake—"
"I'm older than Amaterasu!" she snapped, her pink eyes blazing.
"Yeah, but you're still in your forever-nine phase," I said, ruffling her hair. "Let the grown-ups handle the sake. You can stick to ruining people's lives with existential dread."
"Gladly," she muttered, folding her arms as we walked in.
The moment we stepped inside, I could feel the tension radiating through the room like an overcharged microwave. Every god and goddess under the sun—and I mean that literally—was already there, seated around an unnecessarily long table. The divine council looked like it was one snarky comment away from a full-scale brawl.
Amaterasu, in all her radiant glory, sat at the head of the table, her golden amber eyes gleaming with the kind of authority that made mortals bow and gods roll their eyes. Mikaboshi immediately hissed at her like a feral cat.
"Control your gremlin," Amaterasu said without looking at me, her voice sharp enough to cut through steel.
"She's not my gremlin," I replied cheerfully, pulling up a chair. "She's just my personal chaos generator. Keeps life interesting."
Mikaboshi stuck her tongue out at Amaterasu before floating higher, far out of reach. Hiyori sighed, taking a seat beside Inari, who gave her a warm smile.
As I sat down, O/N appeared out of nowhere, like he always does, materializing with a flourish of ink and a dramatic sigh. "Dear brother," he said, his voice dripping with theatrical charm. "Still letting chaos follow you around, I see."
"Chaos follows me because I'm fun," I replied, kicking my feet up on the table. "What's your excuse?"
O/N chuckled, taking the seat beside me and folding his hands elegantly. "Art, my dear Y/N. Chaos is an inspiration for stories. Something you wouldn't understand."
"Sure, Mr. 'I Got Kidnapped by a Goddess Again,'" I quipped, earning a snicker from Mikaboshi.
"Children," Amaterasu interrupted, her tone icy, "we're here to discuss the regions, not your personal rivalries."
"Oh, right, the regions," I said, sitting up straight and snapping my fingers. "Here's an idea: let's bring back Imperial Japan but without all the bad stuff, okay? Boom. Problem solved. Everyone gets their own region, I take Japan, and you all scoot over to China, Vietnam, Indonesia—wherever mortals still care about you."
The room fell silent. Every god stared at me like I'd just declared war.
Raijin slammed his fist on the table, lightning crackling around him. "And why should you get Japan?"
"Because I made it," I said with a grin. "Literally. Reality? That's me, baby. I own everything. But sure, let's argue about it like we're in a group project and I didn't do the work."
Inari raised a delicate hand, her calm voice cutting through the tension. "Y/N, technically you do own everything. But you also… own nothing."
"Exactly," I said, leaning back with a dramatic sigh. "My katana? Sentient. My clothes? Sentient. My money? Oh wait, I don't have any. Even birds throw food at me out of pity! The poor donate to me, people!"
Uzume, ever the party goddess, burst out laughing, clapping her hands. "Honestly, you're the most entertaining god here, Y/N. And that's saying something."
"Glad someone appreciates me," I said, raising an invisible glass in a toast.
Meanwhile, Mikaboshi had taken to floating upside down again, muttering insults at Amaterasu under her breath. The sun goddess's glare could've melted ice, but Mikaboshi was unfazed.
"Shouldn't you be off crying about your divorce with Tsukiyomi?" Mikaboshi snapped. "Oh wait, he's not here, is he? Guess you'll have to settle for ruining our day instead."
Amaterasu shot to her feet, her aura blazing like the sun itself. "Say that again, you little brat—"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I stood up, holding out my hands. "Let's not turn this into a family drama, alright? This isn't daytime TV."
O/N leaned toward me, his voice low and amused. "You're surprisingly good at playing peacekeeper, Y/N. Who knew?"
"Eh, someone's gotta keep the glue from cracking," I said with a shrug.
As the argument simmered down, the gods returned to their bickering about regions. Raijin and Fūjin were arguing over who got control of the skies, while Susanoo and Ōmononushi debated over the seas. Uzume was dancing on the table for no apparent reason, and Ninigi was trying (and failing) to make a point about agriculture.
I slumped in my chair, twirling a chopstick I'd stolen from the snack platter. The shadows in the corners of the room whispered bad jokes, courtesy of my meds, and I chuckled despite myself.
"Hey, Y/N," one shadow said, its form twisting into a crude face. "Why don't ghosts apply for jobs?"
"Why?" I whispered back.
"Because they're overqualified—they've got spirit!"
I snorted loudly, earning confused glances from the other gods. O/N leaned over, raising an eyebrow. "Are you… talking to the shadows again?"
"Maybe," I said with a grin. "They're funnier than half the gods here."
"I heard that," Susanoo growled, narrowing his eyes.
I waved him off. "Relax, storm boy. You'll get your region eventually."
The arguments dragged on for what felt like centuries, but in divine time, that's probably just a Monday morning. As tensions rose, I felt my patience wearing thin. Between the politics, the meds, and Mikaboshi's constant commentary, I could feel a storm brewing inside me, one I couldn't joke away.
Finally, I stood up, slamming my hands on the table. The sound echoed through the room, silencing everyone.
"Alright, enough!" I snapped, my voice louder and sharper than I'd intended. The gods turned to me, their expressions ranging from shocked to annoyed.
"You're all sitting here arguing over scraps like mortal politicians," I continued, my red and blue eyes blazing. "You've got entire realms to your name, worshippers who adore you, and you still want more? Meanwhile, I've got nothing! Nothing! My katana owns herself, my clothes own themselves, and the only prayers I get are from people who want stuff, not because they actually care about me."
The room fell silent. Even Mikaboshi stopped floating, her pink eyes wide as she stared at me.
"I'm tired," I said, my voice softening.
The silence in the room was suffocating, thick enough to slice with a blade—not that Inochi would let me borrow her right now. Every god in the room stared at me like I'd sprouted a second head. Well, except for Mikaboshi, who looked more confused than usual, and O/N, who, for once, didn't look like he was mentally drafting poetry about my idiocy.
I rubbed my temples, sighing. "You know, I get it. You're all gods, and gods love their politics, their domains, their egos. But can I just ask one thing? One tiny, microscopic thing?" I leaned forward, my mismatched eyes scanning the room. "When the hell do I get a break?"
Amaterasu raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "You already have the freedom to wander aimlessly, Y/N. Isn't that enough of a break?"
I laughed, sharp and bitter, shaking my head. "Oh, sure! Aimlessly wandering the cosmos, doing errands for a shrine that doesn't belong to me, dodging accusations, and trying not to lose my mind—yeah, sounds like a vacation." I slammed my hands on the table, the sound echoing through the grand hall.
The room stayed silent, no one daring to interrupt. So, naturally, I kept going.
"Let's talk about the last week, shall we? First, I get bitten by a ghost dog. A ghost dog. You'd think that'd be a joke, right? Oh no, rabies are apparently real for gods, and now I'm on meds that make me see shadow clowns cracking dad jokes at 2 a.m. Do you know how not funny that is? I'm this close to laughing myself into the afterlife!"
Raijin muttered something under his breath, but I shot him a glare. "Oh, don't start, Thunder Boy. I'm not done."
I paced the room, hands gesturing wildly. "And then there's Kuchisake. You know, the other living nightmare. Yeah, I went to her for help. You wanna know why? Because I don't exactly have a line of gods waiting to make sure I don't keel over." My voice wavered slightly, but I pushed through it.
"You think I wanted to go to someone who'd already—" My voice caught in my throat, the memory flashing across my mind like a neon sign. Her breath on my skin, her twisted smile, and the humiliation that followed. I forced a laugh, bitter and sharp. "Yeah, she assaulted me. And you know what? I still went to her for help. Because that's what I do. I suck it up. I smile. I make it work. Because if I don't, everything falls apart."
I slammed my fist on the table again, this time hard enough to crack the wood. Mikaboshi floated a little closer, her pink eyes wide and searching. O/N leaned back in his chair, his face unreadable, but he didn't look smug for once.
"And you all think being omnipotent must be a dream, huh?" I said, glaring at each god in turn. "Oh, look at Y/N! He can do anything, know everything, be everywhere! What a life!" I gestured to myself, my voice rising. "Yeah? You try living with the fact that when all of this is gone—when you're gone, your worshippers, your temples, everything—I'll still be here. Floating in Nothingness. Forever. So, tell me, what's the point of all this? What's the point of arguing over regions when none of it will matter in the end?"
"Y/N…" Inari's voice was soft, hesitant, but I cut her off.
"No, no, let me finish," I said, pacing again. "You all have people who adore you, domains that give you meaning. You know what I have? Chores. Hiyori handing me a list every day like I'm her personal errand boy. And if I mess up? If I can't find something or don't do it fast enough? 'You can never do anything, it's fine, I'll do it myself.'" My voice cracked, and I laughed humorlessly. "Do you have any idea how much that hurts? To hear that from the only person who actually prays to me? To hear 'you're useless' when I can do anything? Do you think I like hearing people say I'm an idiot? That they hate me? Do you think I enjoy this?"
I paused, my hands trembling as I tried to catch my breath. No one spoke. Not even Susanoo, who usually had something snarky to say.
"And don't even get me started on the mental gymnastics I have to do just to keep everything from breaking apart," I continued, my voice quieter now. "You know what happens if I lose it? If I stop holding it together? Outerversal anomalies, volcanic eruptions, tsunamis, hurricanes, tornadoes—you name it, it happens. The omniverse literally falls apart if I stop pretending to be okay."
My gaze swept the room, daring anyone to challenge me. "So yeah, I act like everything's fine. I crack jokes, even when I'm angry. Because if I don't, someone might cry, or worse, they might see how close I am to breaking. And then what happens?"
Mikaboshi floated closer, her voice soft but steady. "You should've told me, Y/N."
I smiled at her, a weak, tired smile. "You've done enough, Little Star."
Her eyes flared with indignation. "Don't call me that!"
"Sorry, habit." I looked around the room again, my voice softening further. "The only break I've had in eons was taking Hiyori to the beach. One day. One day out of infinity. And you wonder why I'm a mess."
Amaterasu's golden eyes met mine, and for once, they weren't filled with disdain. "Y/N…"
"No," I said, cutting her off. "Save it. I don't want pity. I just want… something. Anything. Because I'm tired."
O/N finally spoke, his voice calm and measured. "Brother, you've carried this weight for longer than anyone could imagine. Maybe it's time you let someone else help."
I turned to him, my lips curling into a bitter smile. "Who, O/N? You? The god of stories, kidnapped every other week? Mikaboshi? The one everyone hates for existing? Hiyori? The one who calls me useless? Tell me, who's going to help?"
The room was silent again. Even Mikaboshi didn't have a quip this time.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I don't know why I even bothered. Enjoy your meeting, everyone. I'm going for a drink."
I turned on my heel, heading for the door. Behind me, I could hear whispers—Mikaboshi floating after me, O/N calling my name—but I didn't stop. I needed air. I needed space.
More than anything, I needed to figure out how much longer I could keep pretending.
After arriving back in Kyoto...
The streets of Kyoto were quieter than I expected, though the faint hum of city life still buzzed in the background. It was a comforting kind of noise, grounding me in a reality I so often wanted to escape from. With every step, I could feel the tension in my chest easing, but only slightly. I knew where I was heading—one of those dimly lit sake bars tucked away in an alley that only the really desperate or the really lost seem to find.
When I pushed open the creaky wooden door, the scent of alcohol and grilled skewers hit me like a wave. The place was practically empty, save for the bartender lazily wiping glasses and a single figure slouched at the counter. The dim light from a paper lantern illuminated his glowing, blue translucent form.
Koyasu.
"Koyasu!" I called out, already shrugging off my heavy mood and throwing on my usual grin. "Fancy meeting you here. You haunting the liquor cabinet now?"
Koyasu turned, his semi-transparent face lighting up when he saw me. "Y/N, you poor bastard. What are you doing in this corner of misery?"
"Same as you," I said, sliding into the stool next to him. "Trying to drink my problems away. Difference is, I've got the divine constitution to back it up."
Koyasu chuckled, his glowing form flickering faintly. "Big words from the guy who literally ran out of his own meeting."
"Don't remind me," I muttered, flagging down the bartender. "Sake. The good stuff. And keep it coming."
The bartender nodded, setting a bottle and cup in front of me. I poured myself a drink, the clear liquid catching the dim light as it filled the tiny cup.
"So," Koyasu said, watching me carefully as I downed the first cup in one gulp. "What's eating you this time? Shadows? Rabies? Mikaboshi throwing tantrums?"
I let out a bitter laugh, pouring another cup. "All of the above. Add in a group of gods who'd rather argue about who gets the prettiest rock and a lifetime supply of existential dread, and you've got yourself a recipe for whatever this mess is."
Koyasu smirked, his glowing form leaning against the bar. "Man, you're really laying it on thick today. What happened to the Y/N who couldn't stop cracking jokes, even when life kicked him in the teeth?"
"He's still here," I said, giving him a half-hearted grin. "Just drowning in sake for a while. Even cartoon characters need a break, right?"
Koyasu gave me a long look, his usual smirk softening into something that almost looked like concern. "You really are in deep, huh?"
I shrugged, taking another sip of sake. "Deep doesn't even begin to cover it. Did I mention I went to Kuchisake for help?"
He winced, his glow flickering slightly. "You went back there? After what she did?"
"Yeah," I said, swirling the sake in my cup. "Turns out desperation makes you do stupid things. She gave me these pills for the rabies. Side effects include shadows telling me knock-knock jokes at three in the morning and the occasional existential crisis."
Koyasu whistled, shaking his head. "That's rough, buddy."
"Yeah, well," I muttered, downing another cup. "Story of my life. Honestly, sometimes I think I should just seal myself away, let the omniverse figure itself out. Maybe then I'd get some peace."
Koyasu frowned, his translucent hand patting my shoulder. "Don't talk like that. You're the glue holding this mess together, even if it sucks."
"Glue," I said, laughing humorlessly. "Great. Stuck to everyone's problems while they argue over rocks."
The bartender refilled my cup, and I raised it in a toast. "To glue," I said with a grin. "And to being the universe's favorite punching bag."
Koyasu lifted his own spectral drink, grinning. "To you, for being the guy everyone depends on but no one thanks."
We clinked our glasses, and for a moment, the weight on my shoulders felt just a little lighter.