Disclaimer: I do not own Okami, that's just my wishful thinking.

This silence. It was almost too much for him. For every breath it drove deeper and deeper into him, made him more and more empty, just like the place he once called home. And these winds, they were no winds; they were the tears of the air.

There was not a single creature who didn't cry this night.

No, that wasn't entirely true. On this road he now walked – that never seemed to end – he every now and then passed houses from where he could hear singing and cheering – celebrating (to him, it was hard to understand how one could even consider using that word this night) – yes, there were many who celebrated that evil had finally been defeated, that peace would return, that the fear that had been ruling the land for a century had come to an end, yes, cheer for the peace, cheer for the brave warrior Izanagi!

But that was only because they didn't know any better.

For the price of the peace had been a high one. He, along with all the gods and spirits of nature, knew that. They knew that everything that had been restored from its cursed state meant nothing – that the water of the rivers couldn't reach its full beauty if it didn't glitter in sunlight, that the plants and trees of the earth wouldn't bloom if they weren't blessed with the warmth of the sun, and that the blue sky only was nothing more than a poor excuse for itself with no sun.

The sun was dead.

She had died as the heroine she was, but nonetheless, she was dead.

And it didn't matter how many times people tried to convince him otherwise, Ushiwaka couldn't escape from the feeling that it was his fault.

He had been haunted with that feeling for a century – hisfaulthisfaulthisfault… - and even though it had weakened a lot through the years, mostly because of Amaterasu's ever comforting presence, it would never leave him completely, and now it had been reignited. No matter what, he couldn't change the fact that it technically was him – and his cursed people – that had started it all. None of this would have happened if it wasn't for him.

Hisfaulthisfaulthisfault…

The sun was dead and it was the moon's fault.

Another crying wind, slowly dancing through him.

Empty sky.

He would spend the rest of his life trying to make up for all of this. He would make sure that none of this would ever happen again. That would be the meaning of his life. He would do whatever it took to make him worthy of forgiveness. Whatever it took.

It was then he noticed that he had stopped walking, and that he was standing by a tree. A cherry tree. There was no mistaking about it, because even though it wasn't the right season, the tree's crown was filled with loads of beautiful sakura.

He understood.

A single flower petal, shimmering in all the pink nuances reminding him of summer dawns, fell down, slowly and gracefully landing in his hand.

He understood.

Amaterasu.