EPILOGUE

If she were to be honest, Ashido Reiko wasn’t her real name at all. The one who gave her that name was her ‘master’, so to speak—someone maybe closer to what the humans called a ‘dispatcher’. Well, also ‘teacher’, really, but the distinction was long lost in time. She was there on assignment, that was it.

So, with the assignment complete, it was time for her to return.

Her master had a bad habit of choosing to meet her somewhere among the senbon torii—the long route of red, sacred torii shrine gates that lined up along the main path to the Fushimi Inari Shrine. The name senbon torii meant ‘a thousand torii gates’, so it was technically an exaggeration, but it did get pretty close: there were around 800 torii gates there as of the moment.

Well, okay, there were ten thousand gates actually, but only around 800 were lined up into the legendary tunnels of the senbon-torii.

Reiko had no idea how many gates she’d have to pass until she met her master. With a deep breath and a bit of a sigh, she took her first step past the first torii. That’s one.

That’s two.

She kept on going—the night was dark, so the torii gates were lit-up. The place was as much a shrine as it was a tourist destination, after all, but Reiko didn’t complain. There were some visitors who preferred coming at night since it was less crowded, but Reiko was used to it. There’s just no real way to be truly alone, not while she’s still down here.

In approximately forty minutes, it would be a whole different story. Not a lot of people had enough time or stamina to really climb the entire thing, after all—it was easy to forget, but the place was a mountain. It was still a hike worth thousands of steps.

Patiently, Reiko kept climbing.

Sometimes, an occasional visitor would pass her by. Reiko kept her pace stable. Still nothing here.

There were a few stop points along the way. They served the thematically-relevant stuff like inarizushi (which the kitsune really liked, Reiko could confirm), kitsune-udon (named so also because the kitsune loved it), or aburaage (which nearly caused her first massive blunder). The stands were closed at this hour, though, so Reiko could stroll past them without going wild.

After all, aburaage nearly caused her first massive blunder. Well, nearly. Not quite. Nearly, but not quite. Reiko couldn’t help but smirk.

Occasionally, there were also visitors who were climbing down—some only just completed their climb, so made their way down around this hour. They were rare compared to the visitors who wanted to feel the eeriness of the night at Fushimi Inari Shrine, but Reiko would often encounter a few of them every now and then.

As she climbed further up, the crowds started to dissipate. She passed one of the smaller shrines along the way, a few more kitsune statues … and then things went dark.

He’s here.

Reiko maintained her calm breathing, and with a swish, she felt a presence right behind her.

“Welcome back, Child,” a raspy voice said. Reiko nodded.

“I have returned, Master.”

They kept climbing, even though the sky felt different. Reiko knew that it was simply her master’s spiritual strength seeping out—he did like being a little of a showoff. “How did it go?”

“Much better than I expected, Master.”

“Did you make contact, then?”

“Even more than that, Master.”

Silence for a bit. “Explain.”

“I wish to show you, Master. May I turn around?”

“No need.”

Reiko felt another swoosh as her master passed her and climbed ahead. He was wearing the traditional kannushi outfit—the shrine carer outfit for men. He turned to Reiko from above.

“Show me.”

Reiko bowed, then reached into her spiritual bit before manifesting something on her hand. “This, Master.”

On her hand, she fashioned a rat aburaage.

She didn’t even have to raise her head. She knew her master’s eyes widened.

“Is this…?”

“Yes, Master,” Reiko couldn’t help but smile triumphantly. “He offered this to me.”

“You received an offering, huh….”

Slowly, her master laughed. Reiko wanted so badly to giggle along, but she held herself back.

She couldn’t believe her luck.

An offering was an acknowledgment that went two ways—the offerer acknowledged the offered and wanted to show goodwill. It’s entirely well within the rights of that spirit to accept, reject, or even ignore an offering given to them.

If they accepted it, though, that’s an acknowledgment that went the other way: they acknowledged the one who gave them an offering.

And Reiko just received an offering from the King of the Night himself.

“You may raise your head.”

Reiko did as she was told. She met the eyes of her master—reddened, way redder than usual, but still charming as always. Her master grinned, showcasing his fangs, some longer than Reiko remembered them to be, but she knew just how delighted he was.

Oh, he was so delighted that he drooled a little bit, which he quickly lapped back up. “He offered this to you?”

“Yes, Master.”

“So he acknowledged us, correct?”

Reiko smiled. “Yes, Master.”

The Master laughed out loud at last. “Well, then,” he said as he received the rat aburaage. “I suppose it’s time that we … the Japanese government … return this acknowledgment and finally recognize who the new King of the Night is, shan’t we?”

***