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From within the shadows of his gaze, something ancient looked out at her, something wise and cunning and dangerous. Something that whispered to her and called to her soul.
An arm slipped around her waist, pulling her backward into a warm body. “Did you miss me?” Shiro purred in her ear.
“Did you forget, Jorogumo?” he asked softly, darkness sliding through his voice. “I am not a mere Lord of Crows. I am the Prince of Shadows, and always do my soldiers await my call.”
“What about death is to be feared? The burdens of life can be so great that it would be a comfort to know that someday it will end … that someday, we will have earned the final rest.”
“Scared, little miko?” “Won’t they want to eat me?” “Probably,”
“Izanagi and I have always had each other, as have you and Tsukiyomi. Sarutahiko and Uzume found each other long, long ago, but for millennia and more, Inari has been alone. Not even the minds of Kunitsukami are immune to the strain of such endless solitude.”
You are broken, Inari.
“You are more than a body, Emi. You are more than a vessel for someone else’s will and power.” “But I’m the kamigakari.” She shifted her weight, resisting the urge to look away. “It’s my duty—” “To die? To put my life ahead of your own?” His jaw flexed. “Amaterasu may be willing to let you die for her, but I’m not. Don’t you dare choose my survival over yours again.”
Inari wouldn’t fear a weak mortal girl’s inevitable death. Inari wouldn’t mourn her. Inari wouldn’t care. Inari wouldn’t love her. But Shiro did.
She had given up everything for duty, even her life. But this … this she couldn’t sacrifice, not even to save the world.
