Chapter Text
Praying was not something Nijika did every day – sure, there were events throughout the year that included a shrine visit, but she didn’t care much for religion or things like that, so her time in places like these was rather limited.
And yet, on this day, she found herself standing in front of the donation box, having thrown a thousand yen inside. She was deep in concentration, focusing on making a single wish.
The day was Nijika’s graduation from middle school.
In all her time there, despite her best efforts, Nijika hadn’t found a single person to join her in her quest to make a band that would get big some day! Her sister had already been making off-hand comments about it a while back, but now that she graduated without finding anyone, Seika completely shut up about it, which somehow felt even worse.
So, here Nijika was, praying for success in her endeavors at this shrine dedicated to a God of Music.
‘Please, if anyone’s listening… I just want to find some people to make a band with. Anyone, to at least get this project off the ground.’
“No problemo!” said someone from right behind Nijika.
“WHOAH GOD!” She instantly whirled around, jumping onto the donation box to get some distance from the stranger.
“Yes! Hi! That’s me!” the stranger chirped. It took a good moment to get a proper look at him – Nijika’s brain refused to comprehend what she was seeing at first, as nothing seemed to fit together.
The weird guy wore corpse paint alongside an obnoxiously colorful vest with no shirt underneath, a cowboy hat on top of his head, ripped jeans covered in an absurd number of belts, and red high heels (really high heels).
There was no method to his madness. Not even an insane person would dress like this, Nijika thought.
Then, her brain caught up to her ears.
“Wait. What did you just say?”
“Oh, I’m the God of Music! Pleased to meet you in person, Ijichi Nijika!”
He held a hand out which she didn’t take, mostly because this sentence essentially interrupted her comprehension progress, so she had to start over. This guy? A god? And how did he know her name?
“You’re in luck!” he happily proclaimed, clapping his hands together and grinning broadly at Nijika. “You’ll get your bandmates during high school, no worries! Just be careful about the – “
“Hold on!” Nijika interrupted him. “Just. Give me a moment, okay?”
Inhale.
Exhale.
Let’s try this again.
“So, you’re telling me,” Nijika began, “that you’re the God of Music?”
“Yes!”
“Why do you look like…” She wildly gestured at him.
He pouted. “Now that’s just rude. Don’t you know you shouldn’t judge someone by their appearance? Can’t pick what you look like, after all.”
You can at least pick your clothing!
“I just would’ve expected you to dress like… I dunno, a famous musician?”
“Oh, you naïve child,” he smugly replied, wagging his finger. “I pulled elements from different well-liked bands! That’s how you know I’m the God of Music.”
All he got as an answer was Nijika’s blank stare. His face fell.
“Is it… really that bad?”
When Nijika nodded, he looked like he was going to crawl into the next hole he could find.
“I just wanted to show what a good God I am… I’ve only had this position for a very short time…”
“…How long?” Nijika asked, feeling a little bad.
“20 years.”
And nobody ever pointed out your stupid outfit?!
She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to think of something else, but few options came to her.
“How do you even walk with those heels?”
Great question to ask, me.
Instead of responding, the ‘God of Music’ floated a little closer to her.
Nijika backed up just as much.
Well, this did feel a little supernatural… But it could still be a prank of some kind…
“…You said something about me getting my bandmates, right?” Nijika asked.
I can’t believe I’m actually going along with this…
“Ah! Yes, yes!” The excitement returned to the strange god, and he thankfully backed off a little, allowing Nijika to climb down from the donation box. “You’re in luck! Quite skillful indeed, and passionate too! If you manage to hold them together, you could make it big, if I do say so myself, and I am the God of Music, so you better believe me!”
She rubbed her temples. This was hurting her brain.
“So,” she asked, just so she said anything instead of this ‘God’ going on some kind of rant, “is there anything else I need to know about this, or can I just… leave and wait for them to meet me?”
“Ah,” the God replied, and the tone made Nijika feel like it wasn’t going to be a particularly pleasant surprise; a feeling that only got stronger when she saw pearls of sweat forming on his forehead. “Yeah. Well. There is one thing that I should probably talk to you about.”
“What, is there some kind of terrible price I will have to pay in return?”
“No, not exactly… I’d almost say you were lucky, considering…”
Nijika crossed her arms and tapped a rhythm with her foot, waiting for this guy to collect his courage and just come out with it.
“So, uh,” he eventually started, “there’s this colleague of mine, right? Great guy, by the way, you’d love him.”
“Uh huh.”
“Hah, love him, that’s good – ah, um, because he’s, uh, the God of Love. You see?”
“Very funny,” Nijika replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.
“So, we were talking a while back – I was pretty much fresh out of God School at that point – and eventually you came up in the conversation.”
Nijika chose to ignore the existence of God School and all the implications of that, focusing on the end of the sentence instead. “You talked about me? Why?”
“Well, that’s neither here nor there, really,” the God of Music said, not facing her. “More importantly, we… got a little distracted by an important matter that came up, and, uh… My buddy, he messed up a little.”
Now, Nijika felt her heart sink. It wasn’t like she was looking for love right now, but it didn’t seem like this mistake was just her never finding a partner…
“What does this mean for me?”
He twiddled his thumbs for a little before mustering up the courage to directly look at her.
“Basically,” he said, “your bandmates are also your soulmates.”
Nijika blanked for a moment.
“…What?”
“Well, essentially – look, it’s not – “ The God was clearly panicking now, sweat dripping from his chin. “It’s – to put it bluntly, they’ll all be madly in love with you.”
“What.”
“That’s all I can say, I’m sorry! This isn’t my field of knowledge!”
“Then where is this God of Love?! Why isn’t he explaining this himself?! How does something like that even happen?!”
“Well.” He stared at the ground again, twiddling his thumbs like his life depended on it. “We, uh, got distracted, like I said…”
“Why?!” Nijika couldn’t even think of how to handle a situation like that. What if choosing any one of them as an actual partner would tear the band apart? What if she didn’t like any of her band members back, even platonically? What kind of fate was this?
And so, because she couldn’t focus on the ‘What next’ without wanting to cry, she chose to focus on the ‘Why’ instead.
The God of Music clearly didn’t expect a good reaction, floating away from her little by little. “We were… watching Hibike! Euphonium over God Discord – “
“God Discord.”
“Oh yeah, it’s great! All the Nitro perks for free, native resolution and fps on every stream, and the connection is super stable!”
Nijika just looked at him, and though she didn’t know what her own face looked like, from the God’s reaction her expression wasn’t pleasant.
“Sorry. Uh, yeah, we were watching Hibike! Euphonium, and we loved it, but got a bit heated over the yuribaiting – and, well, the God of Love was a little drunk, and we’d talked about some soon-to-be-born musicians earlier, so when he said ‘I’ll show ‘em the right way to do music lesbians’ I jokingly mentioned your name – I guess he remembered your bandmates and wrote them down before passing out. And the next day, you were already born, so we couldn’t course-correct anymore…”
While she certainly felt tempted to get a torch and burn this shrine to the ground, Nijika couldn’t help but simply fall to her knees, back leaning against the donation box.
Great. Simply amazing. Phenomenal, even.
Now she not only had to deal with still assembling the band in the first place, but also holding it together somehow while they were all vying for her attention.
…Well, maybe she shouldn’t judge before she actually met them. Maybe they were nice, reasonable people, and she could get along with them just fine.
Hell, maybe she even knew some of them?
“Can you tell me who these bandmates are?” she asked the God, lifting her head out of her hands.
“Well, I’m not supposed to say too much,” he replied, wringing his hands, “but given what happened, I could at least give you a hint, I suppose…”
The God of Music gulped, then forced himself to look at her again.
“One of them is someone you know already. She’s a blue-haired bassist, and – “
“Oh, FOR FUCK’S SAKE – “