Tsukuyomi watches the goddess through his white copper mirror.

There she is, chopping carrots at the temple kitchen. Tiny humans tug at her robes and open their pink mouths wide. Bellies with legs, that's what they are.

It would be kinder to let them die. They will never survive these days of endless night, now that the sun goddess has gone into hiding.

The other gods are desperate to lure the sun out of her cave. Only Tsukuyomi remains in his palace on the moon, wrapped in his robe of white feathers. He can't stop watching this goddess.

She's so minor that none of the heavenly gods knows her name. Yet in the eighty days since the sun went dark, she's kept humans fed and warm across the land of Yamato.

She's even discovered a hundred and eight ways to eat fungi. Every time she finds a new one, Tsukuyomi shudders and eats another handful of star-shaped candies. Surely death was a better fate than mushrooms!

Clearly the goddess lacked his perspective. He's watched humans suffer from the moon since the day they were made. Their wishes whisper and sob through his silver palace, and scribble themselves on his walls.

The other gods claim to love humans. How they compete with each other to win more prayer plaques! How they brag about whose shrine has the biggest torii gates!

Only Tsukuyomi remains little-known, biding his time.

Now the gods have all headed to the cave of the sun goddess. They're too busy begging her to come out to notice what's going on among humans.

The goddess in the mirror is keeping them alive, if barely. She alone stands between them and their final peace.

Tsukuyomi sets down the mirror and rises from his throne. His face shines as cold and palely handsome as the kingdom of the moon, his long hair darker than the sky beyond.

Dearest children of Yamato, I am the only one who understands your suffering. Tonight I come to end it.

                                                            * * *
The temple kitchen is a one-room building with a thatched roof and an open hearth at the center. The shadowy room smells of woodsmoke, sweet rice, and savory mushrooms.

Arisa stands on her tiptoes to set the last dish on the shelf. "It's all dry, my goddess!"

Hina smiles down at her. "You shouldn't call me that, sweetie. How about Elder Sister?"

"But you're as clever as a goddess and funny as a goddess and you can FLY!" Arisa flings out her arms and spins around in circles around the temple kitchen, laughing.

Hina leans back on the counter with a groan and massages her forehead. What on earth had she done to deserve that rumor?

It must have been when she slipped off the roof of the stable while she was trying to patch it. Flapping her arms desperately had done nothing to break her fall into the dung heap. But she'd disappeared afterward--to wash--and people must have assumed she'd actually flown off.

Behold the miracle of a total klutz!

It makes no sense. But then, nothing about these sunless days makes sense.

When people started calling her "goddess," she'd laughed it off. If it helped them cope with the fear that they were going to die in darkness, why not?

Then the palace guards dragged her before the emperor himself. She insisted she was just a potter from Matsu village, but yes, she would love to "bless" the emergency efforts.

What she'd already been doing for Matsu did work across Yamato--for a time.

But as the sunless days became sunless months, the people had grown restless. Some rebels in the east declared that the court was stockpiling all the remaining food and supplies for itself. It was time for the people to unite under the banner of Goddess Hina and liberate the goods for all!

Hina swore to the emperor that she hadn't put the rebels up to it. (Even if she's been trying to convince the court to open the stockpiles for weeks.)

Nevertheless, the court canceled her rescue efforts. Palace guards have been spotted in the back streets of Matsu, hands on the hilts of their swords. Every time Hina turns a corner, she braces herself. Will the guards jump her first or will the rebels come for their "leader"? Or will the people, fed up with darkness, tear apart the goddess who failed to save them?

Hina sighs and beckons to Arisa. Crouching down to her eye level, she puts her hands on her shoulders. "You're the one with the superpower, Arisa. It's called adaptability. You know what that means?"

Wide-eyed, Arisa shakes her head.

"You can change. Just like the weasel turns from brown in summer to white in winter, you will transform to live in darkness. We've already learned ways of doing that, haven't we?"

Arisa nods solemnly, her bobbed hair swinging.

"So no matter what happens to me, don't give up. The real power is in you."

Then Hina pulls Arisa into a hug so she doesn't see her tears. The little girl smells cool and earthy, like the kikurage mushrooms they picked today.

Forget the rebel slogans. This, she thinks proudly, is the scent of survival.

Rising, she gives Arisa a gentle push toward the door. The girl skips towards it ... and stops.

Blocking the entrance is a tall, slender man in a robe of white feathers. His face is expressionless, his eyes darker than a sunless day. He holds a crescent-moon staff that casts a chilly light across the kitchen, robbing it of color and warmth.

Arisa's eyes go wide with wonder. "Are you a god?"

                                                            * * *
Ignoring the tiny human, Tsukuyomi turns to the goddess.

She's as ordinary as her surroundings: a round sweet face with an upturned nose and light freckles. She wears a plain robe of indigo cotton over wide-legged trousers, and her short hair is tied at the nape of her neck with a blue ribbon.

Fortunately, she's unarmed and small enough to throw over his shoulder. Once he carries her off holy grounds, he can give her peace.

The girl is tugging on his robe. "You can marry our goddess, but you have to promise to move here, okay?"

What nonsense is this child spouting? He tries to yank his robe from her, but she's clutching it in both grubby paws.

She beams up at him. "You could be our new goatherd!"

At this, the goddess snaps out of her shock. "Arisa, dear! The god is just here for supper."

She bustles over to a shelf and retrieves a cloth bundle that stinks of human food. "Your grilled mushrooms smelled so delicious that he came all the way from heaven for a taste."

She winks at him over her shoulder.

"So let his highness eat in peace and maybe he'll bless you. But only if you sleep now like a good girl. Isn't that so, your highness?"

The goddess ushers the girl through the door. Arisa's voice calls from the hall: "It's better with shoyu!"

Tsukuyomi's mouth settles in a stern line. First they try to seduce him with marriage, then they attempt poison. What will the goddess try next to defend herself?

Returning, the goddess holds out the food bundle, but he shakes his head.

Her face softens. "You don't have to worry about us having enough. We're so blessed to have you here."

She presses the bundle into his hands, her fingers brushing his. He jerks back. The warmth of the sun. All living creatures on earth have it.

The sun goddess had given it to them without a thought--and just as carelessly taken it away.

How does it feel to slowly lose your heat to the growing darkness, not knowing when the end will come?

He tips up the chin of the goddess with one finger, studying her face closely.

Worry. Boldness. Bitterness. Exhaustion. Curiosity. Sympathy.

Sympathy?

She holds his gaze, eyes bright with tears. Then he realizes: the goddess he watched through the mirror is now watching him.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers. "But there's nothing I can do for you."

He drops his hand abruptly. "What?"

A loud crack sounds from the shelf; his voice had frozen the water basin.

"You're Lord Tsukuyomi, aren't you? You need the light of the sun as much as we do. But..."

She draws a long, shaky breath, then pushes back her sleeve and holds out her arm. "Cut me."

He starts. It is, of course, what he's planned to do all along. But this goddess has teased him with her ever-shifting words and expressions. One false move and he's certain he'll be the one to fall into darkness.

He slowly withdraws a crescent-shaped knife from his robes. She doesn't flinch when he presses its gleaming tip to her soft forearm.

A single drop wells out, deep red and smelling of iron.

He lifts his eyes to hers and she smiles ruefully. "You see? I'm only human."

On the shelf, the water basin shatters. Tsukuyomi drops the knife and runs like a white deer from the kitchen.

                                                            * * *
The moon god is gone. Hina sighs and bends to pick up the knife he'd left behind.

What a strange, sad man. He looked like a walking statue and felt like an iceblock, but his touch was cautious and gentle. It was as if he was afraid of freezing her--or her melting him.

He must not meet humans very often, let alone receive offerings. The hands that clutched her dinner bundle were trembling.

Poor thing. He clearly wanted a savior or a hug, and she hadn't been able to give him either. At the very least, she can return the knife.

                                                            * * *

Tsukuyomi crouches miserably in a tree in the garden. Once the human leaves the kitchen, he can retrieve his knife.

The last thing he wants is for locals to keep it in a shrine. He deserves no honor after fleeing like a coward from a human woman.

She'd become like a god to her people when the gods abandoned them. And when a god did turn up, she didn't rage or make demands--but only regretted that she could do nothing for him.

It wasn't her blood he'd run from, but her tears.

                                                             * * *

Stepping out of the kitchen is like closing her eyes. As Hina's vision adjusts, the ruined garden slowly appears in hazy shades of gray.

She walks along the rows, calling Tsukuyomi's name and squinting into the darkness. It's ridiculous, of course--he's probably sitting on the moon eating mochi by now.

She turns up her face to where the moon should be. She doesn't know any prayers to him, but there's a poem that feels about right.

She speaks it haltingly, struggling to remember--

If on this morning
you go your way and leave me
as frost leaves the sky,
will my spirit melt in grief
each time I long to see you?

Then the meaning of the words strikes her, and she flushes. Well. Maybe it's a bit much, but it's at least a goodbye.

As she turns back to the kitchen, a rustling comes from the bushes that border the garden. Astonished, she turns around.

A burly man in the green robes and helmet of the palace guard stands before her, an arrow nocked in his bow.

"Your rebellion has ended, false goddess! We will slay the rebels in the temple, beginning with you."

He fires.

Hina cries out. A second arrow pierces her breast, then a third. She sinks to the ground.

The guard rushes forward and lifts her slight body.

                                                            * * *

Tsukuyomi knows this is for the better. She's at peace now. And soon, the rest of the humans will follow.

Their suffering will finally end--as the suffering of gods never would. Alone in the night, he'd have nothing but his mirror and the poem she'd left him.

Will my spirit melt in grief
each time I long to see you?

He's overwhelmed by the desire to see her face one more time. Perhaps he can take her, frozen and timeless, back to the moon. Her ever-changing face would be still--but it would be something.

He leaps from his tree into the guard's path. The guard stumbles back, color draining from his face. He begins to shake and babble incoherently.

Tsukuyomi makes out "false goddess" and "inciting rebellion." Gradually, he understands why the guard slew the woman.

The court had put its own survival over the survival of the people. So much like the gods who abandoned the humans below!

His fury freezes a nearby rain barrel and cracks it with a bang.

Then he turns to the woman, so small in the man's arms. In her way, she had wanted to end the people's suffering.

"She is mine."

"B-b-but the emperor--"

The god fixes him with a chilly stare. After a moment, the guard holds out the body. Tsukuyomi reaches for her.

Suddenly she stirs, brings up Tsukuyomi's knife--and buries it in the guard's chest.

The guard, wide-eyed, staggers back. The god dives in to grab the woman before the guard collapses on the ground.

                                                            * * *

Hina blinks up at Tsukuyomi. He's trembling as he holds her in his arms. His black eyes bore into hers, his lips forming words soundlessly.

She smiles and pats his arm. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. The palace guard has been after me for awhile now, so I've been wearing light armor under my robes."

Tsukuyomi lowers her gently and she stands upright, stretching and wincing. "Oooh, am I going to be sore tomorrow. Do yourself a favor and never get shot, okay?"

The god retrieves his knife from the dead guard and wipes the blood on the grass. His hand is shaking. "You will stop at nothing to live."

"Well, obviously. I've got something I want to protect." She nods toward the temple, where the orphans are sleeping. "Don't you?"

He stares at her for so long that she begins to blush despite herself. Then he turns abruptly and strides out of the garden.

Hina lets out a long, rattling breath, and sinks to the ground. What could he possibly have meant by that crazy line, "She is mine"? Maybe he'd planned to take her away for healing. Nice thought. Definitely worth exchanging her dinner for.

Tsukuyomi, halfway out the garden, turns abruptly and returns. Pulling something from his robes, he hands it to her.

It's a white copper mirror with intricate designs etched on its frame and handle.

"This will show you anything on heaven and earth, past, present, and future. You may also use it to communicate with other mirrors."

"Other mirrors?"

He scowls furiously. "I have the other."

"Oh!" She beams at him. "Thank--"

But he's already flown into the air. His last words drift back to her. "Now I mean to have a talk with the sun."

Hina, shaking her head in wonder, watches the moon god disappear in the morning sky.