Recently, you moved you a new town. It was a small place with a very tight-knit community. Religion there seemed very important to the populous, with the majority praying to Inari. You assumed it was because of the amount of rice fields they grew. You never assumed otherwise.

At your new school, you met a rather ecstatic friend. His name was Masato - a fitting name for a personality such as his. He always found some new way to mess with everyone around him. Everyone except you. Most of the time.

You always noticed something strange about your new town. You could swear most everyone seemed to be hiding something. It was like they saw you as someone - something - different than them. If only you knew.

One day, Masato sat across from you at the lunch table, an old book in his hands. It was odd seeing Masato with a book, but you didn't question it. Then he spoke. "You know, they say that there's a lot of mythology in this region," he started, a strangely tentative tone to his voice.