The thunder rumbled on until morning. A roar that seemed to split the sky, and flashes bright enough to sear her vision. Koyoi hadn't slept a wink.
“It isn’t stopping, is it?”
“No. This is unnatural.”
Asahi stood at the entrance of the small mountain temple, arms folded. His eyes were fixed, glaring into the curtain of rain.
“A normal storm passes through once it's done. But this one... it’s dug its heels in.”
“It’s as if it’s sealing off the whole mountain.”
“Sealing us in...”
Koyoi was reminded of the “invisible wall” they had encountered at Yamabuki-juku. Was the same thing happening here?
...It’s hot, the God of Wind whispered. ...I can feel the heat... from the lightning.
The God of Lightning. Was he out there somewhere? Was he out of his mind with fury, striking the earth over and over?
“Let’s move,” Asahi decided. “Staying here won’t get us anywhere. We're pushing through, rain or no rain.”
“Right.”
The two of them plunged back into the downpour. The dirt path had dissolved into a muddy slurry, flowing like a river. They walked with cautious steps, trying not to lose their footing. Their robes grew heavy, and their straw sandals, sodden with water, clung miserably to their feet. Rain lashed her cheeks, cold sinking to the bone.
Koyoi let out a shaky breath and asked the God of Wind to push the water from their path, if only a little. A faint slip of wind brushed the surface of the mud. Even so, the mire was deep; with every step, the earth seemed to try and pull her back.
Above them, the sky cracked. CRA-ACK! A bolt struck a nearby cedar tree. Sparks showered down, and the sharp, acrid scent of ozone and charred wood filled the air.
“Run!” Asahi bellowed.
If they lingered, they might be next.
They scrambled up the mountain path, caked in mud. The lightning pursued them relentlessly, as if it had them in its sights. Looking up, Koyoi saw pale blue veins of light tangling deep within the clouds. She could feel the core of a burning wrath within that light.
Asahi listened intently, timing the intervals between the strikes. In the brief moments of silence, they sprinted across the slopes. The God of Wind gave a strained cry, shifting the shockwaves of the thunder just enough to spare them. The aftershocks of the lightning tore into the earth, sending mud flying. Koyoi slipped, but Asahi caught her arm before she could fall. A loose stone tumbled into the ravine, making a wet thud in the distance. The forest birds took flight all at once, and the cries of frightened beasts mingled with the howling wind. All of nature was trying to flee this wrath.
“Why?!” Koyoi cried out. “Why is it so angry?!”
The answer was in the wind. The God of Wind told her, his voice trembling with fear.
...Because it was taken. ...Because something precious... was stolen.
Something precious. Was it his pride as a god? His freedom? Or perhaps a companion? Koyoi clutched the light within her heart and listened to the rain. Beneath the fury, she heard a distinct note of loneliness. A voice that was surely crying out for someone to find it. Hearing it made Koyoi’s resolve burn even brighter.
“I’ll find you. Your anger, your sadness—I’ll take it all.”
What were the Observers stealing from the gods? It wasn't just their power. They were stripping away something more fundamental—the very essence of their being.
Koyoi remembered the God of the Waterway. A tiny deity who had been trapped, unable to move, doing nothing but weeping. Back then, she hadn't known. She hadn't realized how much it hurt to be robbed of one's self. A mixture of rage and determination ignited in her chest.
...It’s so sad, the God of Wind murmured.
Koyoi gripped her drawstring pouch and nodded back to him.
“...I won't forgive them.”
She wiped the rain from her face. Anger surged within her. To make a god cry, to drive one to such fury, to force such a storm upon the world...
The summit of the pass finally came into view. The trees grew shorter and the wind whipped harder. An old stone monument lay toppled by the roadside, marked with the black scorch of a lightning strike. Koyoi stepped over it, her legs never faltering. With every step, it felt as though the weight of the rain was falling from her shoulders.
There, they saw a small roadside tea house. Its shutters were closed tight, looking desolate.
“If we can just make it there—!”
The moment Asahi pointed, a bolt of lightning tore through the tea house’s roof. BOOM! The roof disintegrated, and flames erupted.
“...!”
Despite the torrential rain, the fire did not go out. It was a God’s fire, fueled by wrath.
The heat seared her face for a moment. In the damp air, the flames were the only thing that felt dry. Koyoi covered her mouth with her sleeve to ward off the smoke. The God of Wind kicked up a small gust, blowing the embers away. The tea house’s beams collapsed, and sparks vanished into the rain.
“We're taking a detour!” Asahi changed course.
They couldn't get near the tea house. It was as if a barrier of flame and lightning had been erected there.
They ducked into an animal trail behind the building, where the trees grew even thicker. Branches swayed violently in the gale, and wet leaves slapped against her face. Koyoi wiped her eyes with her sleeve, testing the ground for safety.
“...How long is this going to last?”
“It ends when the God of Lightning calms down.”
“But how do we calm him...?”
Asahi didn't answer, his eyes fixed ahead. He didn't have the answer yet.
The animal trail was narrow, with a steep cliff dropping off on one side. One wrong step would send them plummeting into the churning torrent below. Koyoi steadied her breathing, feeling for the firmness of the earth through the soles of her feet. Asahi led the way, reaching back to steady her whenever the path became treacherous.
“Don’t panic,” he said. “The lightning will keep falling, but we can choose where we stand.”
Koyoi nodded at his words. To stay calm in the midst of fury—perhaps that was the first step toward soothing a God’s wrath.
A faint scent began to mingle with the rain. The smell of water was overlaid with the sharp, metallic tang of scorched metal. Koyoi knit her brows, searching for the presence of an Observer.
Down in the distant valley, she saw a white light flickering. A low mechanical thrum vibrated through the mountainside. They couldn't reach it from here. Asahi signaled with his eyes toward the valley, indicating they would return for it later. Koyoi seared that light into her memory, vowing in her heart to stop it.
“...They're here.”
“We can't deal with them now. We have to get through.”
The two of them climbed toward the ridge. The rain running down the rocks was freezing, making their hands go numb. Still, as they ascended, the heavy shroud of clouds began to thin slightly. The thunder hadn't stopped, but the sound was shifting, growing more distant.
“It might be lighter on the other side.”
Koyoi nodded and scrambled up the final steep slope. The wind at the pass pushed at their backs, and they leaped into the edge of the clouds. Behind them, lightning struck again, the roar echoing long after the flash.
Ahead of them lay a thin ribbon of light. Beyond the clouds, a different atmosphere awaited.
Koyoi paused for a single moment to press her hands together toward the ravaged sky. Asahi took her hand gently, urging her forward without a word. She nodded and stepped across the threshold of the clouds.
The raindrops felt thinner now. A damp breeze brushed her cheek, and the scent of lightning faded just a fraction. Koyoi let the tension drain from her shoulders, treading carefully as she took her next step. Asahi pointed ahead, signaling for them to take cover behind a small rock outcropping.
They could feel it in their skin—they were moving away from the heart of the storm. Yet the presence of that fury remained behind them, the thunder still giving chase.
Koyoi didn't look back again. She only looked forward. The God of Wind let out a soft chirp, circling as if to confirm their direction. Guided by that signal, Koyoi climbed over the wet rocks.
Her palms were freezing, but her heart was hot. Relying on that heat, the two of them crossed the pass. As they left the heart of the storm behind, a new path began to appear. Their feet were still wet, but their hope remained undampened.
The rain continued, a fine mist now. Night was giving way to dawn. The wind was quiet. Still, they pressed on.