wanted him there, too. She wanted not to be alone. He’d been wrong to resent her. They were meant to be together, as they always had been from the beginning.
“I will never leave again,” he said, reaching for her hands. The warmth ran through him like the golden ink, painting him with a fullness he’d never felt before. “Let’s paint together, like the first day, when we pulled the earth from the inky waters.”
He reached his hand to the soft cheek of her face. Her color burned beneath his touch. “I will ask Kunitoko,” she said. “What we must do to be together always.”
“We will knit ourselves to one soul,” Izanagi said. Her creativity wouldn’t outshine him anymore. They would be one, their creations known to both of them. He wouldn’t compete with her artwork, but be above it, beside her. He wanted it more than anything else.
“Izanami,” came a voice, and Kunitoko stood at the edge of the trees. “I heard you calling.”
“I want to be with Izanami always,” Izanagi said. “May we pledge it to you, and make a pact? Let us promise this.” She must swear, he thought. If she broke this promise, he, too, would break.
Kunitoko nodded. “Come with me,” he said, and he led them toward the pagoda he had painted on that first day. A tall pillar stood in front of the pagoda, the top of it reaching toward the firefly stars. “Walk around this pillar,” he said. “And when you come to the other side, you will see each other differently.” He took Izanami’s hand and guided her away; she glanced back at Izanagi, her face beaming.
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