Morning came early to the forest.
Pale light filtered through the gaps in the canopy. Dew soaked the leaves, and the air was cold and damp. As she stepped on the ashes of the campfire, a faint, lingering warmth remained.
Koyoi adjusted her wet straw sandals and checked the knot on her drawstring pouch. The Wind God stirred slightly within, seemingly unsettled by the morning dampness. The cords of her sandals were damp and prone to slipping, forcing her to retie them again and again. She wanted to cross the mountain before the rain came. A small seed of anxiety took root in her chest.
“...It’s going to rain.”
Asahi muttered the words while looking up at the sky.
The clouds were moving fast. A dull, leaden shroud was spreading from the western horizon. The scent of the forest had changed. The smell of earth and grass was now laced with the heavy scent of rain.
“Let’s hurry. I want to be over the mountain before it pours.”
“Okay.”
Koyoi retied the pouch to her waist and followed after Asahi. A damp breeze brushed her cheek—different from the dry winds of yesterday. Inside the pouch, the Wind God moved restlessly.
The humidity clung to her skin, making her hair stick to her face. Koyoi wiped her brow with her sleeve and quickened her pace. Above the treetops, the clouds raced by, blotting out the light. The forest grew a shade darker, and the shadows at their feet stretched long. The approaching rain dulled the world’s colors.
“...Rain... coming.”
“...Heavy... rain.”
“Heavy rain?”
“...Yeah. The sky... is crying.”
True to the Wind God’s words, droplets began to fall before noon. It started as a sparse patter but soon turned into a full downpour—a violent rain that lashed the entire forest with a relentless roar. Branches swayed wildly, and the undersides of the leaves flashed white in the gloom.
“Tch, faster than I thought,” Asahi clicked his tongue.
The mountain path quickly turned to muck. Her sandals sank into the mud, and cold water seeped into her tabi socks. Her pack felt heavier with every step, and her breathing grew harsh.
“Koyoi, you alright?”
“...Yeah, I’m fine.”
Koyoi pulled her straw hat low to shield herself. Visibility was poor; the rain was a thick curtain that obscured everything more than a few meters away. Their voices and even the Wind God’s whispers were nearly drowned out by the drumming of the storm. Koyoi clutched her pouch, but the spirit remained agitated, trembling within.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, making the forest shake. Koyoi huddled her shoulders and picked her way forward, testing each step. Mud splattered her clothes, and her socks felt like lead.
“Let’s find a place to wait this out!” Asahi shouted. If they kept walking, the rain would sap their strength until they were stranded.
After walking for a while, they spotted a small shrine by the side of the road. It was an old wooden structure with a door fallen off its hinges, but the roof was still intact. Faded talismans were stuck to the pillars, their ink blurred into smears by the rain. She could just make out the word “Protection.” This place, too, must have been guarded by someone once.
Spiderwebs hung from the rafters, glistening with trapped raindrops. Koyoi brushed them away gently. Only the sound of the rain filled this small, forgotten place of prayer.
“Over there!”
The two of them scrambled into the shrine, drenched and covered in mud. It was dim and dusty inside, but it was dry. Koyoi took off her hat and wrung out her wet sleeves. Cold water dripped onto the floor. She was chilled to the bone.
A small wooden fox lay overturned in the corner. Koyoi set it upright and placed it gently back in its place. She didn’t know the proper way to pray here, but she felt a sudden urge to fix what had fallen. The wood was damp and cold. Koyoi touched it with her palm as if to warm it, then quietly pressed her hands together.
“I’ll start a fire.”
Asahi gathered some dry wood from the corner of the shrine. It was stubborn and damp, but after several strikes of the flint, a small flame finally took hold. The scent of woodsmoke spread, lightening the heavy, humid air.
The flames charred the wet wood, crackling and popping. Koyoi held her hands over the fire, feeling the heat return to her frozen fingertips. With every flicker of the flame, the shadows on the walls danced. She could feel the Wind God shivering in her pouch, reacting to the sound of the storm outside.
“...What a storm,” Koyoi said, looking out the entrance. A curtain of rain had blotted out the forest. It sounded like a waterfall.
“...No,” came the Wind God’s voice from inside the pouch. “...This isn’t just rain. Someone... is being made to cry.”
“Who?”
“...The Rain God.”
Those words made Koyoi’s chest tighten. The path ahead led to the pain of yet another god. She looked up at the sky. Was this violent downpour actually the god’s tears?
“...The Observers?”
“Maybe,” Asahi said, his eyes fixed on the fire. “They try to control even the weather... by force, if necessary.”
The sound of the rain began to sound like a scream. Koyoi hugged the pouch tight. Outside, a faint flash of lightning lit the forest, and Koyoi felt as though another cry was hidden in that burst of light. If someone was crying, she couldn’t just leave them. She tightened her fists in front of the fire.
“We’ll head out once the rain lets up,” Asahi said quietly.
Koyoi nodded. Even if she couldn't reach the god beyond the rain yet, her heart was already there. Her next destination was decided: someone was calling for help, and she had to go. She closed her eyes, clutching the pouch, and thought she heard the Wind God whisper a small, “Yeah.”
Asahi stood up and glanced at the rain. His gaze was distant, fixed on the path ahead. Koyoi steeled herself to look in the same direction. The rain was still fierce, but it would stop eventually.
The night would be long, but the path remained.
The heat of the fire lingered on her fingertips, and she transferred that warmth to her heart. Behind the sound of rain on the roof, she could hear the rivers swelling. Tomorrow, the road would be mud, but there was still a pass to cross.
Koyoi gripped her pouch, preparing to face the Rain God. The scent of rain soaked into her skin and her clothes grew heavy, but that weight became the resolve to accept the journey ahead. Beyond the rain, the silhouette of the mountain emerged faintly.
The road continues.