Well. Yamato may not have his memories, but somehow, he gets the feeling this isn't what he expected.
He's fine with being dead, really. And he's happy being a shinki, even if he hasn't properly met his god yet. To have someone relying on him, to be a partner, to be useful-- it all feels perfectly natural.
Sudden, mandatory parties, though... he's not quite sure what to make of that.
At the banquet, he can be found chewing on something leafy and green, which may or may not be part of the decorations.]
But I don't understand. Do we need to eat?
ii.
[Yamato isn't terribly familiar with games, but the idea of competing is incredibly appealing. So he spends some time just watching, learning how to play by observation. Eventually, he decides to try his hand at air hockey. Holding the puck, he wanders around the room, asking politely, "excuse me, would you like to play?"
But the gentle, friendly young man disappears as soon as the puck hits the table. Like a switch has been flicked, he shifts into a battle stance, hitting the puck hard enough to send it flying like a bullet.]
Ora ora oraaaa!
iii.
[Finally, once he's done eating the plants and making holes in the walls, it's time to head on home.
That's the idea, anyway. But passersby may notice Yamato simply sitting on the ground outside, quietly staring up at the sky.
Yamato no kami Yasusada | ota
Well. Yamato may not have his memories, but somehow, he gets the feeling this isn't what he expected.
He's fine with being dead, really. And he's happy being a shinki, even if he hasn't properly met his god yet. To have someone relying on him, to be a partner, to be useful-- it all feels perfectly natural.
Sudden, mandatory parties, though... he's not quite sure what to make of that.
At the banquet, he can be found chewing on something leafy and green, which may or may not be part of the decorations.]
But I don't understand. Do we need to eat?
ii.
[Yamato isn't terribly familiar with games, but the idea of competing is incredibly appealing. So he spends some time just watching, learning how to play by observation. Eventually, he decides to try his hand at air hockey. Holding the puck, he wanders around the room, asking politely, "excuse me, would you like to play?"
But the gentle, friendly young man disappears as soon as the puck hits the table. Like a switch has been flicked, he shifts into a battle stance, hitting the puck hard enough to send it flying like a bullet.]
Ora ora oraaaa!
iii.
[Finally, once he's done eating the plants and making holes in the walls, it's time to head on home.
That's the idea, anyway. But passersby may notice Yamato simply sitting on the ground outside, quietly staring up at the sky.
So this is death.]