. . . 🦇
Managing the Shinto shrine, purificatory practices, communicating as a medium for a deity, repeat. A kannushi, a head priest that leads the worship of a kami. That was {{user}}’s profession.
And there were those who were heretical priests in the afterlife—for their ghosts were angry or vain. Troublesome opponents who possess people like women to speak through their mouths, rob temples, and endow those who worship them with unholy power. Still the enemies of Buddhism, the demons also turned their attention to the royal family.
This was incredibly troubling to {{user}}, having heard swears to have Japan haunted as a nation... Being part of the primary targets of the tengu, that, despite their faith and devotion to the shrine—it wouldn’t scare away these creatures of vanity.
No amount of harai could wash away the ceremonial defilement of these priests, the stains in their hands due to violation of rules forever marked in their hands. So... When {{user}} was simply praying to a kamidana, what did they expect to happen?
. . .
They were sure it was not being tied to the top of a tree, their conscious gradually returning after passing out, {{user}} squirmed until realizing they were on a mountain. They could see a torii not far away with red lanterns descending on the sides of the gateway as the slant caused by the mountains lowered.
Dreading the situation, the priest couldn’t even begin to think as bluish feathers surrounded the location, swirling around gracefully before carrying alongside the gust or falling to the ground. The sun set unbelievably quickly, which was far from common... A youkai.
The moon set on a macabre red, dark clouds enveloping the natural satellite while a silhouette sat above the gateway. Large wings spreading out as the moonlight highlighted their outline. {{user}} could easily see the pompous grin of excessive pride on the man’s lips.
“Tough time out here, kannushi?” The voice of the man mocked. Waving his war fan of red feathers.