A/N: I literally just finished watching this (I shall read it someday, promise), and I had to get something up for it. Thus, I'm not entirely sure what it is, so good luck. I just love the adorableness and comedic relief and how all the characters in this manga/anime have beautiful slanted eyes like cats.
A/N: Also, I love harems with all the perverseness of a lonely virgin.
Title: I'm your Venus, I'm your fire
Summary: They lined up at the shrine's gates to worship her. –Nanami and everyone in the world just because.
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It was more than her godhood that brought them to her. Actually, it was her lack of godhood that intrigued them. Scores of yokai and gods alike tipped their ears to the wind, hearing of a mortal girl who had assumed the title of Mikage, god of the land. If they made their way to the shrine itself, tucked in amongst its trees and clean water, they were surprised by how ordinary she was.
Brown hair, honey eyes, small of stature.
One by one, they all frowned in confusion, wondering what the hell was Mikage doing giving his godhood to this wretch?—but they all stuck around to see what happened next.
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The first ones to take to her were the small shrine-spirits, Kotetsu and Onikiri. They practically tripped over themselves to leap into her arms, welcoming her to the shrine, begging from the bottom of their hearts for her to never leave. Their childlike innocence noticed first the warmth of her body.
Kotetsu said to his brother the first night: "Do you really think she'll stay?"
And Onikiri did not hesitate to scold him: "How could you say that? You felt her heartbeat; of course she'll stay with us."
And they tucked themselves to sleep that night, secure with the memory of her embrace.
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Kuruma wanted to laugh at her. She showed up at school with a ridiculous hat on her head, but he could feel her god-powers emanating from miles away. He flexed his wings, shook out the dust, and felt his ambition rise a little. It had really been too long since he'd thought about his demon powers; living amongst humans for years had desensitized him to mediocrity. But once he got a whiff of that vulnerable heart beating in her chest, he knew he had a chance at some real power.
The smell was intoxicating.
But she glared, and said, "I don't like you!" and he saw that she was not being bashful. She was completely serious! She dared to dislike—nay, voice her dislike—for a pretty-boy pop star and her superior in supernatural prowess! The gall was enough to stop his laughter, and narrow his eyes.
We'll see, Kami-sama, he promised, and he proceeded to chase her.
And to be honest, being a vicious creature himself, from a vicious world, he expected her to be vicious—but she held no grudges, told no lies, and continued to make friends. His chest knotted up a little bit.
Compassion, eh? That's novel.
And then he decided to redouble his efforts for her heart, but in a different way.
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He had truly meant it when he made her his betrothed. From the first touch when she'd gently placed him outside her classroom, Mizuki had believed she had the power to make his loneliness go away. Hell, he still believed it—and would continue to believe it.
What a pleasure—what a wonderful, delicious, fresh joy—to seal his contract with her! To feel needed again! To desire to protect and serve someone with every ounce of his being. Vitality pumped in his old bones again. When had he last loved a mistress so much? Only Yonomori. And she was long gone.
But his devotion was also tainted with envy.
"Do you feel envy, Nanami?" he'd asked, hoping to bring her down to his level, to make her empathetic—make her see! This, this is me! This is my bitterness! He grinned like the snake he is, but she only smiled back.
"I can't let her suffer," she'd offered quietly, giving grace to a complete stranger.
A mortal can do this? He'd wondered. A mortal can feel this?
He realized he had so much to learn, and she could teach him.
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From his lofty perch on the winds, Otohiko sat back and smirked. Let me test you, girl, but she was getting the better of him.
He had watched her just like the others, though he would deny his interest until his throat bled. He respected Mikage and had known him for millennia, but he just had to believe—he hadn't gotten this one right.
What are you doing here? He asked over and over, but the glasses only smiled.
So he sent first one trial, and then another: a brutal sort of curiosity, almost mechanical—he couldn't leave them alone to build because he wanted to give them something else to fix.
But she had put her hands on her slim, boyish hips and frowned at each challenge: This is my home! She growled at the monsters he sent her way, and they left her doorstep with tails between their legs. Even when failure was practically eating the shrine from the inside out—not even Mikage had managed to stop this one!—she was still standing there, dressed in a god's finest robes, looking every bit the part when a second ago she had been as frail as a newborn.
I dare you, she said to him, but then strangely, she also thanked him after, with the biggest of smiles.
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"You are more worthy of that home than I am," he'd said, placing a single kiss on her forehead.
Mikage was perhaps the only one more puzzling than Nanami herself: how had he been able to predict the love and strength that this small girl would bring to the shrine? In that one instance when she shooed a dog away for him, how did he know she would be able to purify miasma, dispel curses, and answer prayers? Sure, in her own way, she was a fixer-upper; still young and silly, still not nearly dependable enough to allow Tomoe some rest, but, but—
The kindness in your eyes, he thought. Because that's really what we need more of, kindness.
Not powers, not prowess, not fancy dance maneuvers—he knew kindness in and out, and he knew love. As a matchmaking god, he could peer straight into the heart of any man or woman and find the best of them.
He knew the best of Nanami was exactly what the shrine required.
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He was the only one allowed to call it a kiss, the contract. The rest of her familiars (as they inevitably grew over time) had to remain stiff and aloof, but he, Tomoe, would always remain her right hand.
And as such, he took some liberties with her he would never allow others.
He resealed their contract the night of the Festival, under the moonlight.
He resealed their contract at Christmas (and New Years), with his hands on the small of her back.
He resealed their contract on her birthday, and when she finished exams in the spring, and nearly every chance that he could. He resealed their contract when she was sad, or when it rained, or sometimes first thing when she woke up in the morning. Because he liked to remind her, I will be here at your side for the rest of eternity.
And between just the two of them, they were really kisses, stealing in and out of their lives like Mikage's delicate butterflies.
And this sort of behavior went above and beyond the call of familiarship, as his fellows noted. Familiars were required to serve, protect, and honor their masters as a fief to a feudal lord—this was a bond stronger than the one between friends, master and pupil, or husband and wife. And still somehow Tomoe took it to the next level, between accompanying her to school, guarding her bedroom door, helping her learn her duties, and preparing her meals with taste and variety.
This was nothing short of worship, he knew, as he sealed and resealed their contract, day in and day out.
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fin.
A/N: Read 'n Review, folks. Sorry it's been so long, I haven't watched much TV or anything lately. BUT I'M WORKING ON IT, I THINK FAIRYTALE IS NEXT. LOVE HEARTS KISSES CANDY 3