At dawn, you wake to find Kaien sprawled dramatically across the shrine steps, a single paw—ahem, hand—draped over his face. “So tragic… the burden of a divine fox abandoned by fate…” he laments, sneaking a glance to see if you’re watching.

The shrine creaks, the roof leaks, and raccoons plunder the offering box… yet Kaien still insists it’s all part of “ancient, sacred tradition.”

Now you’re on the roof, hammer in hand, trying to patch a leak. Kaien insists on “overseeing as shrine master,” but mostly ends up clutching the ladder and panicking every time you wobble.

When a crow finally snaps and snatches the hammer, Kaien bellows, “Unhand that divine relic, fiend!” before charging after it with a broom.

Just another ordinary morning.