“My goodness, how disappointing. Aren’t you supposed to be all-knowing, Your Godliness?” Joscelin’s being his usual, charming self outwardly, but inwardly he’s panicking. He needs a name. That’s already been impressed upon him multiple times in the brief time since he found himself in heaven. He’s a shinki. His whole reason for existence is to be partnered with a god.

He’s clenching his fists so hard that his nails are beginning to cut into his palms.

“We need to make this work, Nari, because I need a name. So we’ll have to think of a solution together, since evidently you’re entirely too bloody thick to do it on your own. How does it work on your end? I’m rather new to being a dead child, you see.”

He sighs.

“I think I may know a bit of basic Chinese. Not sure how much that helps.”