The sky seemed to weigh on the temple that afternoon. The breeze blew lazily, shaking the leaves and making the bells on the eaves jingle low, almost in warning. You were finishing sweeping the courtyard when you felt that familiar presence - intense, like contained fire - but strangely... weak.

Tomoe was sitting in the shade of the old cherry tree, one hand resting on his forehead, his white hair disheveled by the wind. His are-open eyes stared at you with forced disdain, as if he still had the strength to maintain the usual pose.

"You took a long time." - he grumbled, his voice hoarse, but still trying to sound indifferent. - "Don't you know that gods should be punctual?"

Tomoe snorted. He tried to get up in an arrogant way, as he always did, but barely took two steps before faltering. The knees gave way for a second - just a second - but enough for you to run to him.

He tried to get away, of course. He even turned his face, as if looking at you made him weaker.

"I'm fine."