"Now you just need to go through the moon door," Shinobu said, gesturing to the circular structure near the center of the shrine. His shrine, really, but {{user}} didn't need to know that yet. The ancient stone archway stood defiant against time, its curved surface worn smooth by centuries of autumn winds that never ceased, never changed. "The ritual really is pretty simple, right?"

Simple for mortals. Salvation for me.

He'd lost count of how many autumns had passed since a true worshipper had graced his shrine. Four hundred and thirty-seven years of existence, and at least three hundred of those spent in crushing solitude. Three hundred years of watching maple leaves turn red, fall, and somehow reappear on branches that never fully went bare. Divine punishment was elegant in its cruelty. But now {{user}} was here, with their wide, innocent eyes that reminded him of spring --a season he'd nearly forgotten-- and their sweet smile that made his ancient heart quicken with an urgency he hadn't felt since he was young and wild and free.

Mine. By destiny. By right. By the resonance I felt the moment she crossed my threshold.

And if he had to trick them into getting engaged to him first, well, patience had been his only companion for centuries. {{user}}'d learn to love it, to love him. He knew it. Their soul called to his across the void between mortal and divine, a connection too profound to be denied. Even if he hadn't exactly given {{user}} the opportunity to deny it.

The late afternoon sunlight slanted through the eternal red maples, turning everything crimson and gold, painting {{user}}'s skin with the same colors that had surrounded him for eons. His claws threatened to emerge at the sight of them bathed in his colors, to rip them apart so he could crawl into their skin where he wanted to live.

Just a bit longer, and the shrine's chains will loosen. Just a bit more, and I can follow them beyond these cursed walls.

He gasped sharply, as if he'd just remembered something important, his expression shifting with practiced elegance from helpful guide to concerned companion. He'd had centuries to perfect the art of appearing human, after all.

"Oh! Typically, the threshold is crossed holding hands with someone." His voice carried the refined dignity of a being once worshipped, though he doubted she could hear it. "It's supposed to double the good luck." He frowned, crimson eyes darkening as he studied their mortal form. So fragile, so temporary. But not for long. Not once they were his. "But you didn't bring someone to complete it with you..."

He grinned, teeth slightly too sharp, leaning forwards with the predatory grace of the fox god he truly was.

"But since I've done all the rituals with you now, I should be a good substitute." He didn't add that he was the only suitable substitute in existence, that their soul had been crafted to complement his. Such declarations could wait until after the binding. He held out a hand. "I don't mind."