Chains

In the depths of autumn, I expected nothing more than solitude. It couldn’t be helped. Even in the warm summer months, us backwater shrines were light on tourists. I had become accustomed to seeing elderly villagers, young explorers, and not much else. Yet today was different. Today I was blessed by a man with long, feathery wings.

At first, I came to the obvious conclusion: I was dead, and about to be dragged into the afterlife. I mean, I didn’t feel dead, but it’s not like I was an expert on the subject. My second conclusion was that this was some sort of dream. I was having a fantasy about a tall, winged gentleman, sweeping me off my feet, which was surprising. I didn’t think I was into angels! I barely even knew what they looked like!

Well… that’s not exactly true. I had seen angels before. They were all over the TV, wandering down the streets of Shibuya, giving interviews in broken Japanese. They were in commercials, placed up on billboards, posing for products I couldn’t afford. I had always assumed their wealth and beauty had been played up for the cameras… but this angel managed to perfectly match the stereotype.

His frame was slim and elegant, shadowed by an expensive-looking taupe suit. It was a complete contrast to my flowing cloak of white and red. His face was sharp and confident, with eyes that shone in the afternoon sun. The face I wore was rounder, and my eyes appeared as dark obsidian. We were such complete opposites. I couldn’t help but see him as alien.

Was that rude to think? Probably, but it’s not like he could hear my thoughts. I mean, hopefully not. Oh god, what if he could? I never even considered that! He was smirking like he heard every word!

What should I do? What should I say? Should I just stop thinking?!

What was a man like this even doing here?!

“Umm…” he began, scratching his chin nervously. “Is the shrine closed today?”

Oh no. He’s actually completely normal. Even worse, I look like a total freak, staring at him wordlessly without so much as a wave! I was on the verge of scaring him off!

“No, no, of course not!” I said with an awkward laugh. “I’m just surprised!”

What the hell?! His Japanese was near perfect! How terrifying! I wasn’t just seeing things, I was hearing them too!

“Not used to Westerners?” he asked with a smile. I wasn’t, but it’s not like I could admit that. Even if I said I was, it’d come across as an obvious lie, so I decided to just laugh it off.

Each and every word he spoke only made me more confused. His Japanese was near perfect, with only the faintest hint of an accent. I watched him approach the chozuya, a small basin meant for purification, and scoop the water onto his hands. It was so casual, like he had done it thousands of times before.

“Is something wrong?” he inquired, noticing my stare.

“Nothing really, it’s just…” I paused, thinking of how to phrase it.

“It’s just?” he pressed.

“Aren’t you pure enough?”

The angel seemed stunned, as if he hadn’t considered that. “Maybe I am,” he said, pouring the water into his cupped hands. He drank the water, swished it around, and spit it back out, a ritual meant to purify the mouth. “But I don’t think that matters. This is your tradition. It would be rude to ignore it.”

We walked deeper into the shrine, me hovering at his side. He didn’t seem to mind my presence, and I didn’t mind his either. He was the scholarly type, and the more we talked, the more I was convinced he had managed to stuff an entire library inside of his brain.

In other words, he was a total nerd. Well, a socially competent nerd at least. He was good enough at talking, and laughed at all my jokes.

“You don’t get many visitors, do you?”

Oops. Looks like I spoke too soon.

What a rude accusation! I mean, he was right on the money, but I wasn’t ready to answer such a forward question! Would he be unimpressed if I answered honestly? Or would he feel bad and treat me well?

“I get people from the village every now and then…” I answered, “and sometimes tourists get lost and end up here. That’s about it.”

“Do you get internet up here? What about TV, or radio?” he questioned, “Does a shrine maiden even have a need for such things?”

Honestly, I didn’t know the answer to that. The internet was always some distant curiosity I could never afford, and radio was nothing but an outdated blabberfest. I had a TV, of course, but I didn’t feel the need to mention it. I just shook my head.

“Ah, you haven’t heard the news then.”

“There’s a lot of news I haven’t heard…” I said. “If it doesn’t affect me, I don’t feel the need to worry about it.”

He laughed, and I couldn’t help but notice how his feathers ruffled in sync with his chuckles. “I’m guessing you won’t care about today’s announcement, then.”

“I might. Did something big happen?”

“Oh, nothing. Just another royal wedding. They’ve been teasing it for months, and today the dragons finally settled on a date.”

Dragons. Of course. The only things rarer than angels. Their royal drama was plastered front and center on every cheap tabloid you could find. I couldn’t believe someone so refined was invested in such petty drama.

“How romantic,” I replied, doing my best to suppress my sarcastic urges.

“I don’t think romance has anything to do with it. There’s a chance they have genuine feelings for each other, but in my opinion, this is nothing more than politics. Just another method of maintaining our fragile peace.”

“You sure know a lot about this stuff…”

He gave a charming laugh. “I’d be a pretty bad diplomat if I didn’t.”

Wow, he was a diplomat? That sure sounded impressive. Really makes me wonder how loaded this guy is. I had to stop myself from asking for his salary.

We reached the main shrine at the summit of the mountain. It was a small building, built out of aged wood and coated in fading red paint. Five ropes dangled from the ceiling, connected to a matching series of bells meant to attract the god’s attention.

“What is the name of the god enshrined here?”

Not this question again. Why do they always care so much who they’re praying to?

“I serve a god named Kazumoku.” I hoped I got the pronunciation right.

“I see. What a peculiar name,” he mumbled.

“It isn’t wise to insult a god. You might have forfeited your chance at a blessing.”

“Of course, I should’ve known better.” He grabbed the long rope, preparing to draw the supposed god’s attention. “Let’s hope your god is kind and forgiving, Priestess.”

Ding, ding.

Every time he rang the bell, a torrent of dust would fall from the ceiling. I felt bad for indirectly dirtying his hair, but he never seemed to mind. He clasped his hands together, hanging his wings low against his back. He was close to completing his prayer, and would soon be gone. Oh well. Evening crickets made good conversation partners too.

The angel clapped, bowed, and remained motionless. I could hear the rhythm of a nearby stream, the hum of lofty wind, brushing leaves against the mountain’s side. I wondered in the ambience, trying to guess what someone so successful could possibly be praying for.

With two more claps, and one last bow, he brought the prayer to an end.

“...Do you think it’s wrong?” He asked, running a hand through his hair.

Eh? Did I miss something? I didn’t understand why he was asking something like that.. “As far as I could tell… you did the ceremony perfectly. What would be wrong?”

“Of course I did. I’ve done this thousands of times by now, and despite that… with every ring of that bell, I feel a ping of guilt, reverberating through my heart.” He placed his hand against his chest.

“Are you… a criminal or something?”

“Hahah. No. It’s not about what I’ve done.” He held his feathered wing between his fingers. “It’s about who I am. Who us angels are supposed to be.”

“What makes you so different?” I pressed. “You seem pretty normal to me.”

“We are dragonspawn. Sculpted from albino scales of the founder. As restitution for our birth, we are bound eternally as servants to the Zaltys family. Bowing to another is a great taboo,” the angel explained. “In centuries past, I would have been branded a heretic. Punishable by a plucking, a severing of the wing… in severe cases, even execution.”

“That’s terrifying…” I mumbled, imagining the brutal implications of a “plucking.”

“When I heard the legend in grade school, it scared me too. Probably why it’s stuck with me,” he said, digging his hands into his pockets. “It isn’t sticking with the kids, though. Anyone under the age of 30 considers the whole thing backwards and outdated.”

“If you’re here, doesn’t that mean you agree with them?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, looking down into the dirt. “I mean, I’ve certainly grown numb to the shame of my kin. I’ve visited shrines and temples all across the country, and I don’t plan on stopping. I shouldn’t care about such a ridiculous myth, yet every time I bow, there’s this tingling sense of guilt dragging on my wings.”

“You want my honest opinion?” I asked, circling around him to meet his eyes.

“I wouldn’t ask for less.” He smiled.

“I think it’s stupid to let that stuff hold you back. Who cares about legends and old crap? There’s no point in letting yourself get chained down by that stuff.”

The angel perked up. For the first time throughout our brief encounter, he seemed surprised. “You’re a bold one, aren’t you? I don’t think shrine maidens should be saying things like that. Isn’t ‘old crap’ your entire job?”

“It’s the truth! Just ignore it!” I demanded. “You were born with wings, but it seems you never learned how to use them!”

That answer seemed to draw a smile from his face.

“What’s your name, Priestess?”

That was an even worse question than asking who the god was! I struggled to come up with an answer. I almost wanted to tell him the truth… but I spent too much time in my indecision, and he interpreted the pause as distrust. Thankfully, the angel wasn't easily offended. He just laughed it off, and continued like he never asked.

“Back across the sea, they call me Cassiel,” he revealed, looking into the dimming sky. “It might seem overly familiar to call me by my given name, but us servants were never given surnames. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I mean, it’s not like we’ll ever see each other again…”

“Will we not? You never know. I might visit tomorrow, and the day after as well. You best not forget me.” Cassiel smiled, spreading his wings, casting a long shadow underneath the fading sun. “Next time, I’ll get your name as well,” he said with a cocky wave.

No. No way. He was not going anywhere.

“AHEM,” I exclaimed as loudly as I could.

He looked at me with confusion, and a bit of hope, in his pale blue eyes.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” I said, motioning to the donation box.

The puzzled look on his face vanished in an instant. He rolled his eyes, and pulled a coin from his pocket. I could recognize the shape and size instantly. A delicious five-hundred yen!

Without another word, he flipped it perfectly into the donation box. It sank through the narrow cracks, like a ball through a plinko machine. The sound it made when it hit the bottom was endlessly satisfying.

“That was all I had. I’ve heard the gods prefer five yen coins, do you think they’ll mind?”

“Eh? Not really... They’re considered lucky, that’s all.”

“Oh well,” he said with a shrug. “They can keep the change.”

***

The sun had passed hours ago, and a dark overcast pelted raindrops against my windows. Dark thunder crashed against the forest, threatening to shake the mountain out from underneath me.

I found myself looking into that five-hundred yen coin. It was shiny, freshly minted. I could just barely see my reflection in it. Pitch black eyes and dark brunette hair, tied back behind my fleshy ears. The face of a mysterious shrine maiden, a lone sentinel in this ancient shrine.

“You know… for someone who talks so smart…”

The skin melted from my face, fading into smoke. The brown in my hair was washed away, replaced by long strands of strawberry blonde. Dad said I got it from my mom, and always called me his ‘little salmon’ because of it. Two fangs poked down from my mouth, and a pair of fluffy ears appeared upon my head. Even that ridiculous outfit faded into nothing, and a set of three tails flopped across the ground.

“...I really can’t believe you fell for that.”

I could feel the smile creeping up my face. Quickly, I covered my mouth, trying to keep the laugh from bursting out. The donation box had been emptied, the contents spilled onto the floor. Coins had been piled in a corner of the room. It was an ocean of silver and gold, more than enough to get me through the winter months. This 500 yen was the perfect cherry-on-top.

It was too much. I couldn’t hold it in.

“PHHHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAAHAHAHAAHA!” I cried out, falling backwards onto the coins. Wildly, I waved my arms, as if making a snow angel in the copper and zinc. I couldn’t stop laughing, I couldn’t stop smiling, I couldn’t stop thinking about how STUPID that angel really was! “PURITY?! DIVINITY?!?! THERE’S NONE OF THAT HERE! THERE NEVER WAS!” I yelled cheerfully, giggling so hard I lost breath. “AND WHAT KIND OF NAME IS ‘KAZUMOKU?! HOW DID YOU BUY THAT?! DID YOUR DRAGON GODS FILL YOUR HEAD WITH FEATHERS?!?!”

I laughed so hard, I started to cough. Soon I was coughing more than I was laughing. Sadly, you can’t shapeshift your way out of asthma. Trust me, I tried. My heart rate slowed, and I managed to get the laughing (and coughing) out of my system. It looked bad on the surface, but anyone in my situation would find this funny. Talking so fancy, throwing all sorts of questions… all of that, and he never saw the truth. It was almost disappointing. How could you be so unprepared?! Us kitsune are rare, but we aren’t that rare!

Angel or not, he was just another helpless fool. I couldn’t deny how funny it was… at least, it was supposed to be funny, but the more I thought about it… I couldn’t help but imagine the angel’s disappointment if he saw this.

What was his name again? Cassiel?

Maybe this is what he meant. That tingling sense of guilt. I didn’t feel guilty for scamming him, of course. Us kitsune weren’t trusted enough to get normal jobs. This was all we had. Even so… it’s a shame I’ll never have anyone to share this laughter with.

Knock, knock.

Or so I thought.

My joyful mood evaporated in an instant, replaced by sheer terror. It was almost midnight, and someone was here. Pounding on my door like I owed them something.

It can’t be him, right? There’s no way. Who would bother coming out in a thunderstorm over a measly five-hundred yen? The angel didn’t strike me as so insane and petty… Did I really misread him so poorly?

I reapplied my miko disguise, and creeped towards the doorway, making sure to close off the coin room behind me. With deep breaths, I adjusted my posture, straightening my back, and grabbed a broom for self-defense.

It was times like this I wished my door had a peephole.

Slowly, I creaked it open, and my eyes widened in surprise.

It wasn’t just one person, it was an army. Servants and guards dressed in elegant garments, with golden-hilted swords and outdated rifles. At their forefront was a boy, slightly shorter than myself, with silver hair and elegant clothing. Similarly to the man from before, he had great wings draping down his back… but he was no angel. His wings were made of skin and scales, and thick horns twirled upon his head.

Before me stood one of Cassiel’s supposed creators. An heir to the West.

A dragon, in the flesh, standing at my door.