It was such a human problem, really. At least, it was to most people.

Humans had always needed such aids in sustainment. They needed to be seen, loved, remembered… They wanted to at least feel like they mattered.

But in reality, they usually didn't. Their lives were so short, and so simple. So what did it mean when even a god felt useless? When even a god felt forgotten, and unloved?

Yato had never let it get to him. He'd spent every day for the past seventy or so years trying to keep himself; trying to remain determined and hopeful because he knew that when a god was forgotten, and when they gave in to that loneliness, they turned into true demons, and of the highest class. Gods who were twisted, broken and grown back crooked often turned dark, evil and dangerous.

Yato kept his wits about him because he knew the truth; the humans shivered at the power of their gods, but a god was nothing without human followers.

And that was why, throughout years of constant pain, and loneliness, and betrayal, Yato kept smiling. He didn't want to become a demon. He didn't want to give in to the fact that even he, the god of Calamity, was nothing without human prayers; without people who believed in him.

So he smiled. For days, which turned into months that blurred into years, he continued to smile, and to help his few followers. And he hoped; no. He prayed to whatever deities were higher than he himself, maybe he even beseeched the powers within himself, his own lost god's soul… he prayed that he could sustain his hope. That he wouldn't be corrupted.

And most of all, he yearned for a companion. Someone who wouldn't abandon him, and leave him to fade into oblivion.

Because in those many long years on the edge of non-existence, teetering over the fine line of being forgotten and remembered, he had never felt more human.