"Hey." It gave the massive God a small wave, feeling insignificant in a way that Yūmoa didn't make him feel. She was impressive and could kick his ass if he crossed her, but made him feel like a friend instead of an inferior being. Honos, however, looked down at him like a human would at an ant. He didn't even answer his greeting, just returned to the argument he was having with a grandma-looking lady.
"Who the fuck gave the boar a voice box?" It whispered quietly, leaning in close to make sure that Honos didn't hear him. Getting crushed on the first day didn't sound like a good idea to him.
Yūmoa chuckled quietly. “Dang, I like you. I made the right choice resurrecting you, kid.”
She glanced over at It, holding up a hand dismissively. “And Honos? Yeah he seems like he doesn’t give a single damn. It’s just how he is. Honestly, he’s kinda nice once you get to know him.”
Her eyes wandered back up to him and she lowered her voice. “He’s kinda like a big teddy bear that could technically snap your neck if he wanted to.”
Suddenly, the booming voice of Shujin fell over the room.
“—and may we celebrate the bringing of new associates this day,” he said elegantly. “Do any of you have any associates that have yet to be introduced?”
Multiple gods and goddesses took turns reading off a long list of new souls acquitted to their armada. Yūmoa gulped, nervous but happy when Shujin looked her way.
“I’d like to introduce Itazura,” she said joyfully, standing up on the chair and gesturing down at the boy. “As a human, Aeneas. Less formally, It.”
Again, that small, "Hey," and the wave. Everyone's eyes were turned to him and absolutely none of them looked even someone interested. Most looked disgusted, some looked disturbed, and the goddess of love, Ài, gave him a look that told him to stay the fuck away from that or he might end up falling for her. But that look was literally on her face at all times, so he didn't feel as flattered as he could've.
It let out a loud sigh as Shujin moved on to the next deity and Yūmoa sat back down. His palms were sweaty, his breathing was surprisingly sharp, and his foot was tapping rapidly.
"I do not like anyone at this fucking table," he mumbled to the goddess, looking incredibly nervous. "They all look like people from my fever dreams."
“At least glad to know you dream about me,” she said with a wink. “But some of them are okay.”
She nudged her head toward a happy-looking male, just a few seats away on the other side. He looked about her age and waved frantically as she looked over.
“He’s the God of Happiness, Lyn. Technically, we’re sub-gods to one another, so we’ve always been pretty tight.” Yūmoa waved back with a smile as she explained. “I’m also pretty tight with the Goddess of Lust, but no one knows if her friendship is ever really real, y’know.”
Her eyes wandered around the table, looking for anyone else who would possibly be nice.
“And, heh, it’s not that they don’t like you,” she said, tugging at the collar of her baggy tunic. “They don’t really like me.”
Or the last associate I brought in, she thought to herself.
“So don’t take it personally,” Yūmoa continued, leaning back in the uncomfortable chair. “That’s my job.”
"Can I have a conversation with the carpentry god about how fucking stupid these chairs are instead?" It's mind backtracked to when she called him "kid" as he continued to complain about the chairs. Tragic, to say the least. Imagine being called "Son" by the hottest girl you've ever seen. even if she was older than fucking dirt, she looked It's age. This was stupidly unfair. "Who makes something a person is meant to sit on out of a fucking rock? No cushions, either? What kinda fuckshit is that? I've been up here for, like, 20 minutes and already don't like it."
“You’re in a room filled with multiple gods of calamity and you’re worried about not being able to feel your ass,” Yūmoa laughed. “You gotta long way to go, hun.”
She nudged his side with her elbow as she spoke.
“But I don’t blame you,” she said. “The only thing I’m thinking about is how to steal offerings from Oshieru’s shrine without him noticing.”
“What?” Oshieru snapped, his eyes glaring down at her.
“Nothing,” she replied nonchalantly, continuing to talk to It.
“But I also really can’t wait until this stupid council is over,” she admitted. “I just find it weird they had Oshieru bring me. They never want me here.”
As if to answer her question, Shujin cleared his throat.
“Yūmoa. You may be wondering why we called you here,” he said.
“Yessir,” she replied, keeping herself leaned back disrespectfully.
“We have a gift for you,” he replied, almost as if the words hurt him. “As a reward for your associate.”
Yūmoa cocked her head. “Oh really?”
Shujin raised his eyebrows, letting out a deep sigh. “We built you a shrine next to Oshieru’s.”
Oshieru looked pissed, but Yūmoa’s face lit up like the sun.
"Hm." What the fuck else was he supposed to respond with? It didn't ever worship any gods, so a shrine made in someone's honor didn't make him blink. With the way it made Yūmoa smile, though, it must've been a pretty big deal.
"Now, it won't be nearly as large as Oshieru's," that brought a slightly smug look back on the god's face, "and will be made of silver instead of gold. Perhaps you will garner a few more followers from it being so near to a major monument."
It frowned. No one except for a few gods seemed to like Yūmoa, not even the God of Gods. Why? He could see her coming off as a bit grating, but other than that she seemed perfectly fine. Stayed in her little corner of the world and didn't make waves.
Yūmoa latched onto It’s shoulders and shook him somewhat violently in her excitement.
“That is amazing!” she said, breathing the statement more than actually saying it. Her wide eyes turned to It, holding a youthful twinkle. She looked like a kid when their mother told them they could buy a lute.
“You know what this means?” she asked, however continued on, answering her own question. “We are rich!”
“Not quite,” Shujin replied under his breath, but Yūmoa was way too happy to possibly care.
“Whose idea was it?” Oshieru asked the major god, a tinge of hate lacing his words.
“The entirety of the council,” Shujin answered, clearly exasperated. “Out of pity.”
It almost sounded like Shujin meant pity for Oshieru, who had had to put up with Yūmoa for the past… millennia. Either way, it didn’t matter to the Humor Goddess.
She just looked insanely happy, and a slight bit jumpy.
“When can I see it? Y’know, move in?” she asked, grinning at Shujin. The god rubbed his temples with long, spindly hands, giving a long exhale.
