Chapter Text
There is a story about a boy who was favored by the gods. He's described as having hair like the depths of the sea and eyes like the night sky when the stars shine brightest. His smile could make even the mightiest king falter and his laugh could freeze an army in its tracks. The gods' fondness for the boy was known well as his parents never suffered a day in their life, never affected by drought or famine, poverty or war. To be around the boy was to be surrounded by life and liberty.
Yet, the boy was mortal. None of the gods wished to see the boy wither away with old age and eventually pass on. None wanted to be the one tasked with taking the boy's soul and feeding it back into the world. So each god gave the boy a gift meant to lengthen and preserve his youth. They offered him immortality so that he might live his life and act on every whim without the fear of death.
The boy, however, declined every gift. And so the boy slowly became a man. He never lost the personality that made the gods love him so. He was still kind and helpful, humble and sweet, strong in both mind and body. Never had gained the arrogance and bitterness that they had seen take over many men before him. He had the skills and talent but he treated every ability of his as if they could always be better.
The boy loved by the gods grew old but every day he worked harder and harder to improve. Never letting the thought of death or failure prevent him from doing anything. The gods ached as the man now surrounded by his family and friends lay still on his bed. They say the sound of his heart slowly stopping could be heard throughout every land. That every king and queen, every prince and princess, every lord and lady offered their condolences and bowed when the news of his death reached them.
The gods, however, never allowed him to die. When his heart stopped, they went down and collected his body. They brought the boy to the heavens and forced the god of death to return the soul he had so heartlessly taken. Bringing the man back to life was a frightful endeavor for it went against the laws they had so clearly written. And despite it all, he refused and returned the items back to them. Forever a young man, the boy loved by the gods lived in the heavens. Traveling with difficult gods and helping others with their godly duties.
The boy loved by the gods and turned divine was known as Isagi Yoichi. Patron God for the ambitious, the determined, the brave, and the bold. To follow him is to be smart and cunning, strong in body but also in mind. It is, to be honest and faithful, helpful and cautious.
—
In a large art studio, a man dressed in a dirtied smock stood in front of his current project. It started as a block of stone that towered over him but after endless days and nights of working on it, the piece was nearly finished.
The figure in the statue sat atop a pedestal with deep engravings and rounded pillars encasing it. The figure himself, however, sat rather casually with one leg crossed over the other that dangled on the pedestal. Both hands were resting on the crossed leg, holding it in place as it leaned forward. It wore a loose-fitting yukata –unsurprisingly the hardest part to sculpt– that flowed and curved with the torso and limbs of the piece.
The final part, the head was almost finished. He placed his chisel and hammer down as he looked at it. The hair followed the curve of the head, stopping just before the nape. The jaw was made from soft lines and led into rounded cheeks with an evident smile just under the nose. The only thing left to do was give life to the already life-like statue and give it eyes.
Yukimiya ran a hand through his hair whilst taking off his glasses. Despite the chilled atmosphere of his studio, he could feel his skin burning at the thought of finally finishing this year-long endeavor. Endless nights spent pouring away at failed attempt after failed attempt and here he was. Part of him wanted to begin progress on the eyes now but he refrained from doing so. Karasu had already commented on his lack of sleep in these recent weeks.
But how could he sleep when perfection was at his fingertips? As a follower of Isagi, patience was a thing he practiced day in and day out. He's been an astute follower since he was young. Offerings and prayers to the god were given weekly as thanks for granting the young man his strength. He left the studio hanging up the smock on the door and entering his home. It wasn't large but it was big enough to house two comfortably.
Though, that did little to prevent his friends from staying the night. Even now as he looks inside the living room, he can see Karasu and Otoya sleeping comfortably on his couch while the TV played in the background. He sighed with mild annoyance as he let the pair stay on his couch, not having the energy to kick them out tonight. After a quick shower, he changed into his sleepwear. He’d finish the statue tomorrow and from there prepare to sell it.
He already prepped all the other pieces to sell and the showcase was just around the corner. He felt the nervous jitters but he knew that he needed to sleep. The gentle draw of sleep washed over him but his mind was still running around like a dog chasing its tail.
As he slept, there was a sinking feeling in his stomach. He couldn't get past the feeling of something happening in his home. He woke up occasionally throughout the night, hearing shuffling and movement that caused him to jump at times.
He didn't check it because he knew he had people here. Otoya would sleepwalk on occasion and Karasu would react. These were things he knew would happen so he didn't bother to get up and check. Then, there was a knock on his door.
It was frantic but quiet. And annoying. Yukimiya pulled himself out of bed and when he opened his door he was met with Karasu and Otoya ready to knock again. The two didn't hesitate to enter Yukimiya's room, clinging to each other as they did. They waited for him to close the door fully before speaking.
"Yuki, you've got a ghost or something in your house," Otoya said once Yukimiya looked at them. The two were already making themselves comfortable in Yukimiya’s bed much to the brunette’s dismay. Karasu gave Otoya a look before elbowing the man in his arm.
“Get out of my bed,” he said with an exasperated sigh. He didn’t bother to grab his glasses, the darkness of his room, and the fact Yukimiya knew he would only get a headache if he did stopped him from trying.
“Aww, what,” Karasu pouted. “You don’t wanna sleep with us, Kenny?”
“Don’t even.” He replied before sitting on the edge of his bed. “What were you two even doing at my door anyway?”
“Oh yeah. Like Eita said, you’ve gotta ghost in ya home.” Karasu replied. It seemed he caught on to Yukimiya’s confusion because he then continued with, “We were just sleeping on the couch like normal when we hear something moving about in your studio-”
“My studio?! I have unfinished projects and things I’m selling in there!”
“Yeah, we know! So like good friends, we go and check it out but all we see is some shadowy figure moving too smoothly and swiftly to be human in there. The thing sees us and for some reason, it laughs and I freeze while the thing hides.”
“Did you see what it looked like at the very least?”
“All I know is it had blue eyes. Like uncomfortably blue eyes.” Yukimiya didn’t bother to give that a response and instead went for his glasses. Now fully awake he left the room though he did hear the other two trailing after him. They moved as quietly as they could and Yukimiya could see the door to his studio cracked open. That somewhat verified Karasu’s claims of checking considering Yukimiya knew he closed the door before he left.
Karasu and Otoya stayed by the couch as Yukimiya crept closer to the door. Quietly, he pushed open the door and stepped inside. There was a shuffling noise in the blue-tinted darkness causing Yukimiya’s head to snap in that direction. When he found nothing he looked elsewhere before zeroing in on his recent project.
The statue was gone.
All his hard work, months upon months of work gone. Yukimiya ran to the light switch, hitting it like a man gone crazed. His eyes stung a bit at the intensity of his studio lights. The once-dark room was bathed in a white glow making everything sharper in its light. When his eyes adjusted, he was able to take in the travesty upon him. The pillar piece of the statue was fine, fully intact and still where he left it. The god that was supposed to be sitting atop that pillar though? Gone. There was no sign of the god in the slightest but strangely enough, it looked like he had just removed himself from the pedestal himself.
It wasn’t like there were any marks of the chisel near the pedestal, so it wasn’t as if someone broke it off. It was strange in every way. Logically, there’s no feasible way for the most important part of the statue to disappear without a trace. It just didn’t make sense. The sound of footsteps drew Yukimiya out of his stupor. He turned around running a hand through his hair. He expected to see Karasu or Otoya, not some stranger in his home.
The young man looked to be a year or so younger than him. Dark blue hair wrapped around the shape of his head, resembling that of a blueberry. There was even a little sprout on his head. He was pale, his skin like ivory. He was short with an average build, athletic but not overly so. His eyes were his best feature though, large doe-like eyes that were so blue Yukimiya thought they could be gems. He was actually kind of cute.
Looking at his clothes shattered the trance he had been put in. A tunic… Just like the one he had sculpted the god in. Going over his features again, Yukimiya felt a bubble of something he couldn't define growing in his stomach. All these features that made this stranger so cute were features Yukimiya can remember spending hours painstakingly carving into the once smooth stone slab that made up his statue.
The young man stared up into Yukimiya's eyes with a curious glint. He spoke softly and steadily to Yukimiya but the voice he heard was too sweet. Too much like honey in the way it clogged his brain and moved so sluggishly through his head.
"W-wait. Stop." His gem-like eyes blinked at him as he tilted his head slightly. "Can you repeat yourself?"
"Oh, sure." He said as a smile grew on his lips. "I said, thank you for the gift . It's been a while since I've gotten such an offering."
"Are you...?"
"Can't you tell? My name is Isagi Yoichi. Divine as I am, I am no god. Who might you be, artisan?”
“Yukimiya. Yukimiya Kenyu.” The being before Yukimiya bows, his hair falling over his eyes as he looks up to meet the brunette’s gaze. His smile grows slightly, showing off teeth similar to that of pearls. He stands and with a musical lilt to his voice, speaks once more.
“Pleased to meet you, Yukimiya.”