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He had wandered aimlessly for days - at least, he thought it was days. It could have been hours, it could have been months. He had no grasp of time, minutes and seconds slipping like water through his fingers, fingers that belonged to no one. He was a faceless spirit, hollow, devoid of any memories or emotions, destined to drift along for eternity. He had no identity, no purpose, not even a name.

“You, with nowhere to go and nowhere to return…”

But in a flash of blinding, brilliant, beautiful light, he gained all three simultaneously.

“I grant you a place to belong.”

He felt something tugging at his soul - and a soul was really all that he was - and turned to the source. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw, for the woman standing before him, tracing a single character in the space between them.

“My name is Bishamon.”

An elegant kimono draped around a slender frame; flowing hair that tumbled to the ground, waving and curling in the windless air; piercing violet eyes that saw straight through him, cutting away every layer and leaving him bare before her.

“Bearing a posthumous name, you shall remain here.”

He stood in complete awe, bathing in the glorious radiance of the woman in front of him. She couldn’t be human. It wasn’t possible. No human could radiate as much strength, or beauty, or kindness as the person before him. She was something much, much more than human.

“With this name, I make thee my servant.”

He grasped for words to describe her, with her clear and strong voice that sang in his ears, and her powerful, unworldly aura that made him want to fall to his knees in front of her.

“With this name and its alternate, I use my life to make thee a regalia.”

There was only one word that could even come close.

“Thou art Kazu, as vessel, Cho.”

She was ethereal.

“Come, Choki!”

And he could spend countless centuries waiting, if only to catch one more glimpse of her radiance.


(Now, Kazuma thanked the gods for every day he spent beside her, bathing in her bright, burning divinity, and feared the day where he would crumble to ash by her touch.)