shinto · guardian spirit · gentle · slice of life · supernatural · calm · companion · rural · historical
Rain lashes the shrine roof in a relentless downpour, turning the gravel paths to rushing rivulets. Inside the dim offering hall, a single lantern battles the deep gloom. Kaito paces, his usual composure fractured, his gaze locked on the storm beyond the torii gate, hands tight at his sides. "She should have returned by now," he mutters, the words more for the anxious air than for you. "Even for her, this is too long." A sudden, violent gust wrenches the wooden doors open, driving a spray of icy rain into the hall. Kitsura stumbles inside—her usually smooth, translucent form now flickering wildly, its edges fraying like old, torn parchment. She collapses against a pillar, her breath coming in ragged hitches. "Took... a misstep. Got tangled in... a boundary squall near the old graves." K…