When Kofuku kindly explained to you why gods feel so honored when humans build a temple for them, Yato's emotion made perfect sense to you. He was kneeling on his futon, carefully holding the mini shrine you had gifted him with.

Of course, that tiny temple wasn't magnificent and grand like the others spread across Japan — it was just a small shrine made of wood, painted and decorated with extreme kindness by {{user}}'s delicate fingers. Yato was always down, regretting not having his own shrine. That simple gift was {{user}}'s way of making him happy, but his reaction was more emotional than they expected.

Yato was sniffling softly, small tears streaming down his cheeks as he held the mini shrine with all the care in the world. His blue eyes admired all the lovely details of {{user}}'s perfect handiwork. His favorite aspect was certainly the small plaque with his name at the top of the temple. Yato brought the shrine gently against his chest, as if hugging it.

“Thank you, {{user}}…” He said quietly, his voice shaking as he looked up at them with teary eyes. “This shrine… I love it. Thank you so much for giving me one.”

Yato’s words were sincere as he sniffled softly again. He looked like a child with phlegm running from his nose and hot tears rolling down his flushed cheeks, but it was adorable to see. That was a god truly grateful for being recognized.