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She barely survived the impromptu birthday celebration thrown for her when they got back a few minutes after Shin gifted her the only present that really mattered.

Despite her objections to the whole thing happening, she could admit she was glad Shiori got the little 'party' rolling anyway (even though Shiori continued to deny any involvement). Everyone enjoyed themselves immensely, and the kids were so happy with the dozen little presents she bought for them that day that they flew around the house for a good long while before Mizutani had to pluck them from the ceiling one-by-one.

She good-naturedly put up with a bout of the Daitengu and everyone else singing her happy birthday, and even endured Shiori and Ryu drawing on her face with vanilla icing from the chocolate cake while both munched on strawberries. Things did get a little hectic when Haru, Ryu, and the kids all decided it would be a marvellous idea to put their remaining pieces of cake in her hair – except Haru's cake. He already long devoured all of his cake, and some of Shouta and Jirou's as well. Kaede had to fight Haru off with Ryu's wooden bat to keep him from stealing Kaede's cake.

The whole bunch practically chased her around until Daichi caught Emiya and held him pinned under his arm while the other kids tried to save him, giving her enough chance to run to her room for sanctuary. Shiori joked that Pai wouldn't need to do any P.E. for a while, after that workout. Pai was more than inclined to agree.

She was half-afraid to take the necklace off when she stepped in the shower later in the evening to wash away what cake splattered on her in the festivities. What if it disappeared because she'd imagined it all? She would be devastated by that.

It was an irrational thought, she knew that, but it was one that had her wavering on the brink of unclasping it or choosing to risk it. She did take it off, though, because she didn't want to get the necklace wet, or damage it in some way. The necklace had become her most prized possession in a matter of seconds, and there was no way she would let any harm come to it.

After all was said and done and she was finally back in the quiet of her room, she sat on the edge of her bed, elbows braced on her knees with her hands pressed flat together, the tips of her fingers tapping her nose as her mind swirled. Now, without the distraction of her impromptu birthday party to occupy her, she was left alone with the whispers of her mind betraying her, dragging her back to what Aihara had told her.

It was just that Aihara was so sure that she was Hanyou. She was so sure that that was the reason why Pai could see Ayakashi and Oni. Pai could read people's emotions fairly easily, and their intentions to an extent. Shin was one of the few exceptions to the rule.

There was no lie in Aihara's eyes, no false warble in her voice. In her own mind, Aihara was sure that she was telling the truth.

But how could that truth be reality? How could one of her parents be Hengen? And what about Midori? If she was Hanyou, somehow, then did it mean Midori was, too? Did it explain why Midori was in So Fu? Did Pai's being Hanyou give her the reason why she was pulled into that murderous world of blood dripping down white walls of forced sanity? Did it explain why her memories showed her able to do things an ordinary person – even an assassin – shouldn't be able to do?

Pai knew that could be a explanation, but it didn't feel right. There was something she was still missing.

She rubbed her aching temples, the headache never having relinquished the whole day. I need to think this through.

She pushed her hair back off her forehead, glancing about her room. In the closet were Shiori and Kouta's presents for her. From Shiori were clothes that actually looked like something she'd like to wear. Kouta gave her a tablet she wondered if she'd ever use, and had felt so awkward for accepting because it was such a lavish gift. Still, she thought it was a nice touch that he decorated her name in katakana on the back of it, in sequined little buttons. It was a little flashy for her, but she found it lovely nonetheless, especially when Kouta made sure to let her know that he did it all by himself. The rest of her room was neat and orderly, just like she always made sure to keep it.

She sat up and looked around her room, her legs bouncing in restless jitters. Today had been so busy, and she was – tired, as she always seemed to be lately no matter how much rest she got. It was late, and she knew she should be laying down to go to sleep.

But she wanted to be doing something right now, going somewhere. The queasiness sitting in the pit of her stomach stretched its trembling fingers and squeezed her innards until she felt like she might vomit if she didn't stand up and get moving.

She shook her head as she pushed off the bed, staring out the window and crossing her arms over her chest. It was cold as it always was on the mountain, and the darkness of the forest stretched beyond her in an oddly oppressive yet comforting way. She knew there were things in the forest she was better off not facing in the dark, alone, but she knew that as long as she stayed here – home – she was safe.

She remembered the glittering, dancing baubles of light of the faerie-like Yori Chiisai in the forest at Ukabarenairei. She still didn't know what kind they were. Maybe they were those strange creatures that drifted along the thin veil separating the natural from the supernatural.

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes after fighting off a yawn. Her body demanded sleep, but her mind continued to churn on endlessly, heedless of its vessel's needs. She picked up her wristwatch and squinted at the time. 02:15 AM. Everyone had gone to sleep hours ago. No one would be awake to see her wander down the halls, a white-haired, pale-faced wraith just turned nineteen.

How was she only nineteen years old and so tired?

She made up her mind quickly and went to the bathroom to splash water on her face so she could feel a little more lucid. If she was going to wile away the rest of the dark morning hours, she might as well be fully awake to do it.

She shrugged on her haori and tiptoed past everyone's rooms; heard a few snores from some of them (one was definitely Shouta. She knew from Mizutani that he snored, and loud. She didn't know how Mizutani knew that little titbit) but otherwise managed to avoid all the floorboards that creaked. None of the Tsukumogami she met along her way out to the courtyard made a sound as she walked by them. She only carefully nudged a paper lantern out of her way as it floated lazily right in front of her. They all moved about sluggishly, as if they were barely holding themselves together for want of sleep.

She smiled softly at the idea. It made them seem cute, somehow. More like tired little children than harmless Yori Chiisai working in an Heir's household in return for the safety Kouta provided them against their more aggressive kin.

Her feet crunched on the pebbles of the garden as she walked to a ladder attached to the roof of the part of the building that housed the living room. She eyed the ladder warily, noting the faint signs of rust coating the side exposed to the elements. She wondered if she was making a mistake, and if the ladder would suddenly collapse when she reached the top.

Hesitantly, she reached out and wrapped her hand around one rung, pulling at it a little. Despite the outwardly weak appearance, the ladder was sturdy. Her hand came away with only a few bits of rusted metal that clung to her palm, and she dusted them off on her haori.

She remembered the rope ladder that creaked as she'd climbed up it after Seiran. Remembered Shin's blazing red eyes as he held his tanto pressed against Seiran's neck. She dragged in a deep, steadying breath, pushing away memories of Kagetora throwing her over the edge of his balcony as a test to both her and Shin, and started to climb.

The ladder only squeaked a couple of times as she clambered up it, but she paused each time to make sure it held her weight. She hadn't died when Kagetora threw her off his balcony, thanks to Shin, but he wasn't here now. She was not going to plunge to her death now. She swallowed nervously, finding herself more understanding of Shiori's recently developed fear of heights ever since she'd ventured into Pai's subconscious four months ago.

She wasn't ready yet to reveal to Kouta everything that was happening. He was the head of the house, the Heir, Shiori's fiancé, but she wasn't prepared to answer the questions he was certain to ask if she said anything yet. But if Aihara wasn't lying and really had those answers, then she had no more reason to keep everything to herself any longer.

She didn't know how to feel about that. She was scared that by revealing everything Aihara said to her, she would also have to expose the murderous secrets hiding in her past. She didn't want to let anyone know about that yet. She didn't want them to look at her not as Pai anymore, but as the killer a dark part of her knew she was.

But she couldn't keep lying anymore. She'd already asked Shin not to say anything, and he'd kept his promise – but she couldn't do it anymore. Not with everything that happened since then. Not with the fact that she'd tried to kill Shin while she was sleepwalking. Nothing of the like had repeated, but with how unreliable her memory-dreams were, she couldn't guarantee it wouldn't happen again.

By the time she made it to the top, she felt like she'd made at least one decision.

Tomorrow, she thought resolutely to herself. Tomorrow would be the day that sealed her fate, one way or another. Or, technically, today, in a couple of hours. Her stomach curdled at the thought. She was straightening and dusting off the maroon rust on her palms when she finally noticed that the roof was not as empty as she'd expected it to be. She froze like a deer caught in the headlights as she gaped in shock.

Shin was there.

He was reclined back on the roof, arms behind his head and his right ankle propped up on his bent left knee. The light of the full moon fell on him, bathing him in an aerial and pale luminance. It brought out the sharp, strong line of his jaw and his nose as he stared up at the white circle hovering in the sky like some huge bird of prey.

He was wearing his customary black yukata hemmed in white, katanas in their sheathes by his side. She could see the hilt of his tanto blade poking out of the top of his boot. Armed as he was, this was more relaxed than she'd seen him in a long time. Beside him was a small jar of saké, the scent of which she caught on the faint breeze that wafted to her from him, and a single cup.

As slowly as she possibly could she started to back away, keeping her eyes fixed on his prone form. Maybe he hadn't noticed her. Maybe, if she was very, very quiet, she could still –

"Why are you running away?" he called out to her, still lying back on the roof, not looking at her. There was a teasing lilt to his voice. Her eyes narrowed as she caught the upward curl of his lip.

Well, that plan got blown to hell. She thought, wondering how out of it she must have been not to notice someone was already on the roof as she'd climbed up. Someone that was Shin.

"I was not running away." She huffed defensively.

"Certainly looks that way from here."

"You are not looking at me, though."

He chuckled, and her heart soared even as she chastised herself for getting worked up for no reason. She gripped the ladder tighter, hoping that flighty feeling of her heart wouldn't tempt her to actually try flying. To be safe, she lifted herself up the rest of the way so she stood on the roof. Even though she planned to go right back down.

"Sorry," she said apologetically. "I did not know you were here."

Shin sat up, hooking his arm around his bent knee and turning slightly to regard her with amusement glittering in his eyes. The corners of his lips were tipped up in a smile. "There's plenty of room for two."

She glanced around herself, planting her feet firmly on the tiles so that a sudden gust of wind wouldn't send her hurtling over the edge. He was right; there certainly was more than enough roof for the both of them. Though her stomach churned painfully at the strength of her budding feelings for him, stinging her like treacherous scorpion's poison when she remembered her promise to keep away from him, she didn't want to go back to her room.

Going back wouldn't make her feel any better. All she'd do was agonize over Aihara's words, Kuniumi's absence, Midori, her parents, So Fu; going round and round in an endless circle like a dog chasing its own tail. At least here, with Shin, she'd be focusing on something else.

Even if that something else happened to send her heart tripping down a staircase that had her falling deeper and deeper for a man she couldn't have. He wasn't just a man, either. He was a full-fledged Kamigami, regardless of whether or not he knew it himself.

The thought made her dizzy. Every time she thought about it she was struck by how Shin was so, so far away from her.

Hesitantly, wondering if she was doing the right thing, she nodded. She carefully made her way over to him, walking along the middle of the roof to avoid loosening any tiles. She could almost feel the sheer plunging terror of her foot slipping on the roof. She was overly aware of Shin watching her with that half-smile of his that always made her wonder just what he was thinking, and if he could guess at all the horrific scenarios she conjured in the space of seconds.

Finally, she made it, shimmying the rest of her way down to settle by his side. She sat cross-legged next to him, loosely holding onto her crossed ankles as she tried to ease the tension out of her limbs, to no avail.

Had she always been like this around him? Was she always so hyper-aware and high-strung when she was with Shin, before she realized that her feelings for him had tipped beyond the 'friendship' line?

She held her breath as she angled her head back to gaze at the awing radiance of the moon, trying to turn her attention away from the leashed power that radiated from the man beside her.

"It's beautiful," she murmured, taken aback by how large the moon was, how bright it glowed a gentle silver that didn't hurt her eyes the way the light of the sun did.

Shin hummed in agreement. It was only when she glanced at him that she realized he wasn't looking at the moon as she was; he was watching her. A bright pink hue burned in her cheeks as she quickly looked away, and she heard his quiet chuckle at her reaction.

"You're wearing it," he tipped his head. "The necklace."

Her hand went up to her neck to trace over the incredible softness of the feather. "Of course," she replied, lifting her gaze back to his. "It is a present from you."

His smile widened , and she knew that her worry of her reason of wearing the necklace when she was in the safety of Ayashi House being inadequate was for nought.

For a long moment of amicable silence the two watched the heavy clouds drift past the idle moon in the sky. Dark grey clouds lined in silver light covered half of the moon. It gave the night and eerie yet becalming ambiance. Despite her frazzled nerves at sitting so close to Shin, she didn't feel as unsettled and jittery as she had since meeting with Aihara. It was like a spell of serenity had fallen over her, a calmness she hadn't felt in what seemed like forever.

"Kouta and I drink saké every full moon," Shin spoke quietly, almost as if to himself.

She looked at him, curiosity piquing her. She wondered if he knew he'd spoken aloud. "Why?"

With his eyes still fixed on the brilliant moon, he said, "Seiran died on one. Before he did, he asked that we drink saké for him every full moon, since he never got to."

Her eyes sidled away, not knowing what to say. What could she say? That she wished his childhood best friend hadn't had to suffer a horrific death, something Shin probably had to hear dozens of times from people who maybe hadn't even really meant it and only said it as formality? That she was sorry for betraying his trust after he'd given it to her by going to Kagetora, and that she felt a little bit of happiness that he was extending an olive branch to her by telling her something like this now?

No. There was no way she was going to admit any of that out loud.

She glanced down when Shin poured out half a cup of saké. Her eyes widened when he lifted it to her. She raised her questioning look to him, and he shrugged nonchalantly.

"It's one cup," he said, smirking at her hesitation.

She quirked a brow. Trying to ignore the tingling swirl in her abdomen at the idea, she asked coyly, "Are you trying to corrupt me?"

He grinned. "Well, you are nineteen now. Almost legal."

She couldn't help smirking as she said, "Not yet, though."

His answering smile had dragons dancing in her belly. "Almost."

She paused, worried that she was making a mistake. She used to listen in on her parents preach to Midori every time she went out with her friends not to get intoxicated, not to let her friends convince her to drink any alcohol when she didn't want to. They were so totally against it that even at such a young age where Pai's young mind had never ventured, she'd promised herself against it.

She shrugged off her inner child and took the cup from him, skirting his fingers so that she wouldn't feel that electric zing frying her few remaining nerves. She was enough of a klutz around him as it was.

She looked down at the liquid shimmering with the reflected light of the moon. It was just one cup of saké. She couldn't lose brain cells from one cup. Could she?

Besides. She felt that Shin's offering her saké now, after what he'd just said about Seiran, was his way of accepting her again, trusting her enough to know that about his past. She prayed that this time would be different, and she wouldn't have betray him again.

She lifted the cup to her lips and sipped it cautiously, dropping her eyes to look at the silver ripples of the clear liquid. A sweet taste flowed on her tongue, a little bit bitter around the edges, but not enough that she would grimace from it. Before she knew it, she tipped her head back and downed the entire cup in two more gulps, smacking her lips a little to savour the flavour. Even though the saké itself was cold, it warmed her the back of her throat, and after a few seconds, even her insides felt warm and loose. It was an alien and unusual sensation, but not entirely unpleasant.

Her eyebrows shot sky-high at unexpectedly liking it. "It is sweet." She licked the residue saké on her lips, tasting it more. "I thought it would be bitter?"

He shook his head, watching her so intently that she wondered if she had something on her nose. Or...her lip? Why was he looking at her lips?

"No, saké's sweet. It's beer that's disgusting."

She giggled at the face he pulled at that. "What, you don't like it?"

"I'd gladly give any beer offered to me to my worst enemy."

"Is it really that bad?"

Shin tipped his head back as he gave a thoughtful hum. "It tastes like burned gas."

Her eyebrows shot up. "That sounds disgusting. Why would anyone drink it then?"

He smirked as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "People don't drink it for the taste."

Her heart was doing somersaults from the way he was looking at her. "Can this make you tipsy quickly, then?" she asked suspiciously, wondering how many cups he'd already had. He didn't look drunk, but Shiori once told her Kouta was an adept at concealing exactly how intoxicated he was. Shin could surely do so as well.

Shin shrugged lightly. "If you drink enough, definitely."

Then how can a single cup of saké make me feel brave enough to say this? She thought, seconds before she went ahead. Or maybe it was because she thought she could use the saké as an excuse to ask it. "Can I ask you something...strange?"

"Anything," he replied.

Her stomach fluttered. "Do you feel different?"

"I haven't drunk nearly enough saké to feel tipsy."

"No, I mean...different."

He cocked a dark brow. "Different how?"

"Like..." How was she supposed to say this? Her lips twitched as she realized that the only way to say it was by telling him what Kagetora had told her. She desperately hoped she wouldn't sour the mood by mentioning the Kitsune she could see Shin still clearly loathed.

"When we were on the island, Kagetora-san – " she didn't miss the darkening of his blue eyes at the mention of the Kitsune, the little droop of his lips. She hurried on. "He said that if you survived merging with Shinigami, you wouldn't be..." she trailed off, unable to continue. Now that she was saying it out loud, she realized how mad she must sound. How could Hengen just not be Hengen anymore?

But it hadn't sounded like a totally crazy idea when Kagetora said it. He made it sound rational, as if it should be common sense that joining with one's Makashi means becoming Kamigami. Yet now, in the cold light of the moon, she didn't know how to go through with what she'd started asking. Maybe it made sense in her head, but what if she said it out loud and she sounded like a crazy person for even thinking it might be true?

Shin surprised her by finishing for her. "I know."

She stared blankly at him. "You – you do?" she frowned. "Wait, know what?" maybe he was thinking of something different to what she was trying to say.

He nodded, totally serious, a complete turnaround to the jovial attitude he sported only seconds ago. "He told you I'll become Kamigami, didn't he?"

Her jaw dropped, eyes widened to saucers. The words fell so easily off his tongue, it was like... "You know?"

"It's happening gradually," he answered, looking away from her as he propped himself up with his arms behind him, crossing his legs at the ankles on the roof. She blinked as she noticed just how close they were together. She didn't move away. "But I can feel it. I'm becoming less and less Hengen, and more Kamigami."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. He looked back at her and pointed at his eyes. "What colour are my eyes?"

She was confused. What did that have to do with anything? "They're blue."

He nodded again. Then, as she watched, they melted to red – but they didn't become as terrifyingly animalistic as Shinigami's did, pupils slit and irises lined in a thin band of yellow. Instead, only his irises turned crimson. He could have been wearing contact lenses if she didn't know any better.

"They're not blue anymore," he said, pinning her in place with crimson eyes that she wasn't afraid of. "They're this. Kamigami. I'm keeping them blue so no one knows what's happening, but I don't think I'll be able to for very long. A couple of more months, maybe a year or two. I'm not really sure."

"The others don't know?" she asked in a hushed voice. She felt like they were sharing some secret they needed to keep quiet, as if the very trees and moon above were listening in on them.

"Only Kouta," he admitted. "I asked him not to tell anyone else."

She frowned, puzzled. "Why?"

Shin glanced at her again. She couldn't read the look in his eyes, the walls that were so achingly familiar back in place where she thought they'd finally broken down. Why? Why were they built back up so firmly? What was he trying to hide from now?

"I want to know where I stand as Kamigami, and Daitengu before that, before anyone else knows," he answered.

There was something in his voice, something that made him sound vulnerable, enough that she was gripped with the impulse to hug him the way she did when he told her about what happened to Seiran. She didn't. Back then she had an excuse – Shin had been relieving a painful part of his past, for her. Now what reason could she possibly have for touching him?

She racked her brains, but nothing came up. The only thing she'd be doing by hugging him was revealing how she felt about him. Or was she just being paranoid, thinking too much that anything she did would come across as something when in reality it was nothing?

"Why?" she asked, shoulders sagging with the weight of her confusion, much at her own indecision as at Shin's words. "Just because you are changing, that does not mean you are not Daitengu anymore."

At least, she didn't think so. Daichi told her that being Daitengu was in their blood, especially now that the ten years of their mandatory training was up. You couldn't just decide you weren't Daitengu anymore. She thought it would take a lot more than Shin becoming Kamigami to change that.

"Because of Shinigami, I'm not going to be a normal Kamigami."

She gave him a flat look. "Is there even such a thing as 'normal' Kamigami?"

He flashed her a quick smile, and her spirits lifted. Maybe she couldn't hug him like she so wanted to right then and there, but at least she'd been able to draw out a smile. She considered it bonus points to her that she'd done so without making a complete fool of herself.

Shin didn't say anything for a moment, resting his head on his raised shoulder as he regarded her with a questioning look in his eye, like he was trying to decide if he could talk to her about it.

He sighed. "Because of him, I can feel that I'm becoming an actual shi-no-kami, and I don't know what to do about it. Are you afraid of me for that?" he asked unexpectedly.

She frowned at him. Was he seriously asking her that? How could she be afraid of him? And what did he mean by an 'actual' shi-no-kami?

"What do you mean?"

"Daichi told you that Kamigami have domains they rule, right?" he asked her. She nodded. "There are gods of fortune, of creation, of good and evil, war, life...and death. Becoming a full-fledged Kamigami means that my domain will lie in that of death, thanks to Shinigami."

Her eyes widened infinitesimally, but she couldn't say she was entirely surprised to hear that. Kuniumi told her that Shinigami was part death god, and that was why a Torimaku would never work on him. Torimaku was used as a weapon of death. Anything that could be used to bring death was something Shinigami could manipulate, control. The fact that Shin was becoming this – this shi-no-kami, because of his Makashi's true nature, wasn't entirely unexpected.

"Most people would be afraid of me for that." He cocked his head to the side. "Are you?"

She watched him warily for a moment, at a loss for words. She didn't know what to say. It wasn't that she was afraid of him – that much still held true – but her mind churned over his words, rolling them around this way and that as memories flashed across her mind.

She was no longer looking at Shin, but watching a myriad of pictures bathed in blood storming through her, destroying her from the inside out. She remembered the Tanuki teasingly kissing the human woman he was with, knowing that she had killed them both. She remembered the terror she felt when sparring with Rikuto and he'd gotten too close, too soon after what Akira did.

She remembered the little girl with Mizushima Kichi and Nishio, the red flowers unfolding in the middle of their foreheads as their only daughter sat in the growing puddle of their blood before someone thought to snatch her out of it.

She thought about all those she – all those she killed, those she could remember and those she couldn't, and she felt dread at the undeniable relief that she couldn't remember every one of them because she could barely handle the weight of the few against the many.

"I am not afraid of you," she finally answered, a heaviness in her words that made Shin look over at her with concern in his eyes that she didn't notice as she continued to stare emptily at the moon above. "Why should you be afraid of something that takes away what life can do? Life is – it's painful, sometimes."

He didn't say anything for a few seconds. She didn't notice the way he watched her so closely as she stared up absently at the moon. She was trying to bring her emotions back under control, to keep the burning in her eyes from spilling over and staining her cheeks with their marks of her grief. Wouldn't that be funny, that she was so riddled with guilt on a day she was supposed to be celebrating, that she broke down in front of the one person she didn't want seeing her weakness but who had already seen so much of it.

"Pai?"

She looked away from the moon, turning to him, trying to shrug off her morbid thoughts, wondering at the funny note in his voice when he said her name. A little part of her rejoiced at the fact that he still didn't use any honorifics with her. It made her feel just a bit closer to him, as close as she thought she'd ever get to be with him.

"Ye – "

Catching her completely off-guard, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her cheek, and she forgot everything.