“Exactly.” Noah clenched his jaw, holding back the emotions that threatened to come bubbling up—as they always did when he lingered too long on his lover’s ill-fated sacrifice. “I’m here to fulfill my duty, I ask that you do the same.”

The gatekeeper closed her eyes in resignation. “Are you ready?”

“Can any human ever really be prepared to materialize in the Spirit Realm?” Noah closed his eyes. "I'll manage."

Izanami leaned down, brushing the shaman’s ocean-colored hair aside to press her cold lips to his forehead. Noah felt rather than heard her whisper an incantation against his skin and, once more, he felt himself slipping into the darkness.

“Be well, my once dear friend. And be careful. I pray this choice does not bring you more pain. May you somehow find the peace you seek.”

---

Noah’s eyes snapped open with a start.

Adrenaline surged through his veins, his breath coming in rapid pants and gasps as he struggled to fill his lungs. He’d known that his body in the Spirit Realm would materialize in its most recent state from when he was last alive—in this case, hypoxic and half-drowned—but knowing it was coming didn’t make it better. It did nothing to soothe the cold panic that gripped him, the body’s instinctive reaction to being forcefully re-arranged and plunged into a new reality.

He was dropped abruptly into consciousness, his brain coming to life at the same time as his bodily systems were coming back online.

“Fuck,” Noah gasped.

He clutched at his chest, attempting to quiet his racing heart. He was shaking—no, shivering.

The last time he’d been dropped into the Spirit Realm, he’d woken up in a pair of strong, warm arms. Before he could even think of trying to soothe his own panic, Tama had been there. Tama, with his gentle, reassuring voice and steady stream of sweet nothings. Tama, the god who had embraced him with immediate love and acceptance.

This time, his dripping wet body was splayed out in… snow?

He’d been dropped into the middle of what looked like an alpine tundra, alone, as the wind whipped violently, thick with snow.

Noah’s cheap ceremonial robes were still soaked through, plastered to his body like a second skin. The wet fabric of his hakama was already beginning to frost over. He could barely hear the wind whistling over the sound of his own chattering teeth and his heartbeat pounding in his ears. His teeth were rattling as violently as his body, numbing his jaw with the force of the involuntary shivers.

“W-what is this?” he stammered.

Was the god of this territory trying to dispose of his sacrifices? He had to know damn well that his altar was in the middle of a body of water, so why would it be tied to a place like this?

It was customary for a deity’s altar to be connected to their personal quarters or at least somewhere in whatever form their domain took—a private, safe, comfortable space meant for the deity to deal with their sacrifice in whatever way they chose. With Tama, he’d woken up in the god’s inner quarters, already cradled in his arms, tucked comfortably beneath layers of thick duvet, and being fed a steady stream of reassurances.

Given Izanami’s warning, he hadn’t expected to receive anything resembling the same treatment but, whatever he’d been imagining, this wasn’t it.

Why the hell would a god’s altar be tethered to the wilds of the Spirit Realm like this?

It was impossible to tell whether it was dawn or dusk through the thick blanket of white that covered the land and sky. Snow was blowing so thickly that Noah could barely make out the shape of his own hands in front of him. He cupped his palms around his mouth, attempting to warm himself with the hot puffs of air from each exhale.

“Shit, it burns,” he hissed.

He had half a mind to curl up and wrap himself into a tight ball to conserve as much of his own feeble body heat as he could—but his robes were at risk of freezing to the ground if he didn’t get up. Noah stumbled to his feet, hunched over to reduce how much exposure he had to the whistling winds. He might have been relieved that his body was still capable of processing the cold if it didn’t hurt so much.

Noah couldn’t see far enough ahead of him to make out whether or not there was shelter nearby. He gritted his teeth. He could already feel the fabric of his robes beginning to stiffen and freeze against his arms and shins where they were plastered against his skin.

He couldn’t risk stumbling around blindly in the snow, soaked to the bone. He couldn’t die like this—not so pointlessly.

Noah clenched his jaw tightly, trying to suppress the rattling of his teeth as he squinted to try and make out something, anything through the snow. He knew the adrenaline was the only thing keeping him conscious as his temperature began to drop, but even that wouldn’t be enough once hypothermia truly set in.

“Hey asshole!” he called into the snow, settling for blind provocation as the fastest way to get a response—if anyone was here at all. He tried to push that thought to the back of his mind. Someone had to be here. He couldn’t afford for this to be the end. “At least have the decency to—”

A low, warning growl cut through the whistling wind.

Noah fell back, his mouth shutting so quickly he nearly bit his tongue.

A pair of glowing amber eyes appeared in the thick of the storm. The light reflected dangerously off of them. They vanished, only to appear directly in front of him in the next blink.

Noah felt the heat radiating off the beast, looming over him. It took longer for his brain to fully process what was happening. Each of the beast's paws was the size of Noah’s head, and each of them was inches away from his body. He was trapped beneath its legs. A chill that had nothing to do with the cold ran down Noah’s spine as he looked up. The breath froze in his lungs.

A wildcat, easily the size of a bear, towered over him. He didn’t dare move. The beast’s glowing amber eyes were fixed on him, pinning him with the weight of its stare.

The beast’s pelt blended so effortlessly with the environment that he would never have been able to see it if it weren’t inches from his face. Its white fur was dappled with deep silver and charcoal spots. It shared the semblance of a snow leopard, but it was larger than life.

If Noah feared any less for his life, he would have been awestruck.

If he’d had any doubts before, the majestic creature towering over him was irrefutable proof that he was no longer in the Mortal Realm. This was the Spirit Realm, where the beasts that roamed the land were either yokai or gods. Most were capable of shapeshifting into a true form, nearly human in appearance, but others were not.

Noah couldn’t immediately discern which of the two the creature in front of him was. It hadn’t attacked him yet. Did it perhaps… recognize him? All members of the Astraeus Clan’s bore Noah’s same distinctive, oceanic hair and eyes.

He cleared his throat. “Er, hi,” Noah said, lamely. “Can you… speak?”

It regarded him silently.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” Noah asked, tamping down the urge to flee.

The leopard continued to watch him with narrow, wary eyes. Its tail flicked restlessly in the snow, but it made no move to indicate that it understood him. He couldn’t sense any killing intent from it, but it was no wiser to trust a predator in this realm than it was in his own.

The glow of the leopard’s eyes were all that stood out against the snowscape. He couldn’t take his eyes off of them, frozen beneath the weight of their stare. Its gaze was hauntingly inhuman, but it made no move to do anything but observe him.

After a long moment, the beast finally turned and simply left. Its amber-gold eyes blinked out of existence as it stepped back into the snow.

As quickly as it had appeared, it was gone.

It took Noah a moment to process what had just happened. And then another, to realize that he was warm. For now. “What the fuck?” Noah couldn’t help the breathless, shaken laugh that escaped him. “Holy hell, what was that?”

“Curb your tongue, human,” the voice of a young girl rang out from behind him, haughty and imperious. “How dare you spout such disrespect? In His Grace’s own lands, no less.”

Noah whipped around. His Grace?