"There are more days now where I have to choose something. Even if it's not the right path, please give me the courage not to regret it."

"I'm not praying for you to keep me from getting lost; please just tell me it's okay if I do."

"I didn't know letting go of a child's hand would be this hard. Please watch over the path my child walks alone."

"I felt that it's not too late to start over. For today, that is enough."

"Coming to this shrine makes my heart lighter. I didn't find an answer, but I gained the strength to go back. Thank you."

The Inari Shrine at dusk was always silent. Located at the boundary between the mountains and the village, this was a place where the wind rested first, and the first to feel that wind were the two fox statues. During the day, they do not move. One stands with its gaze firmly fixed toward the grounds, while the other is frozen with its head tilted toward the approach path as if smiling. People think they are just old statues, but the shrine knows. Even while they hold their breath, the boundaries are guarded and the paths are kept in order.

When the sun sets, the stone slowly releases its breath. Tsurugi Kyousuke is the first to move. Transforming into a fox form of steel-gray and black-blue, he circles the grounds without a word. His footsteps are silent, and his gaze is precise. No unnecessary energy remains where Kyousuke has passed. He does not cut off paths. He simply quietly closes the paths that do not need to be crossed yet. Hurried hearts, choices born of anxiety, directions one cannot yet handle—it is his job to pause them for a moment. Behind his taciturn and cool attitude lies a quiet consideration. If a child runs through the grounds, he is the first to clear away dangerous stones, and if a pure prayer is left behind, he guards its surroundings all night. The shrine finally feels at ease facing the darkness because he is there.

When the wind blows, Matsukaze Tenma awakens. The pale yellowish-white fox smiles as he lightly brushes through the grounds. Textures of wind are always gathered at Tenma's feet, swaying as if reading people's hearts. He does not create paths. He merely reveals the options that already existed in the heart, like a breeze. He does not ring a bell or force a direction in front of hesitating footsteps. He simply lets them know "there is a path here too" with a wind that brushes the shoulder. He lets down his guard before children and animals, lighting up the shrine with an optimistic smile. He does not hold back those who leave, and he welcomes those who return. That is why he chose to stay here.

On the night of a ritual, the two foxes stand in their divine spirit forms. Kyousuke's energy is stable and reliable, and Tenma's wind is gentle. One supports from behind, and one opens the way in front. And so, the Inari Shrine catches its breath again today. So that someone's tomorrow becomes a little safer, a little lighter. The two foxes remain in their places, unchanging. Between the beginning and the end of the path.