Shin (Belief)

I was walking with Mitsube to the stables after morning practice. He wanted a ride through the woods, while I wanted to find a specific place.

"An Eightist temple? Out here?" Mitsube looked more amused than anything else.

"It is... unusual, yeah." This was why I usually didn't reveal that fact.

He snorted. "Thinking they're looking for converts out in these mountains?"

I shrugged. "Maybe. Evangelizing can be monks' work. But temples are often founded on places with natural significance." I paused. "But you knew that already."

Mitsube's face had reverted back to blank. "Oh? Do I?"

I laughed. "Really. You don't know that we put shrines in sea caves and on mountains in order to worship the gods of those places."

"I do, I do... but I didn't know Eightists did that as well." Huh. He actually almost stumbled there. Nice recovery, though.

"We do, but you probably don't want to hear the reason for it."

We'd reached the stables. Knowing our luck, Hatobakou and Asanami were probably at opposite ends.

Mitsube grinned his cruel grin. "You know, you're right. I don't."

I snorted. "Oh, so that 'cultural understanding' bit you're always talking about is a crock of shit."

I had said it in half-jest, but it seemed that it had pricked him. He scratched his head again. "I guess that was the wrong thing to say. I, ah..."

I gaped. I don't think I'd ever seen him that tongue-tied. Time for another poke. "You'd better say something before I get the wrong idea."

He kind of choked on his stammer, stopped, waited for a moment to think, collected himself, and started again. "OK. OK. You caught me. I've tried not to tell you this, since I know you take this kind of thing seriously, but... I'm, ah, godless."

I blinked. "Godless?"

He blushed out of embarrassment. "Yeah. You know. I don't believe." He stopped for a moment. "In the Ascendant, in the local gods, none of it. Not even in any Ereni gods," he laughed.

It was a weak joke, but it made me smile a little. "Mm, that's interesting. That makes me want to ask half a dozen questions-"

"-Don't," he interjected. "That's why I didn't want to tell you."

It changed him a little in my eyes, I must admit. He'd always put on the image of a free spirit - the third child, successful, unusual, student of unusual things, unafraid to challenge. I remember how he badgered our swords instructor whenever he showed poor form. I guess this was another facet of that - a man willing to tell the gods that he disagreed with them. But... it was one thing to tell a mortal man what to do, another thing to tell the gods.

"I'm not sure I understand... but I'm not angry, if that's what you were afraid of. I guess we'll have to talk about it later."

He sighed out in relief. "See I can trust you. That's why I tell you things."

I laughed. We headed in to get our horses.