Chapter Text
Hinata was called the Goddess of the Moon for numerous reasons, one of which was due to her silver eyes always drawing attention since she was alive and human. Even though doctors considered her blind, she could somehow see. Small shapes, shadows, physical forms marked with darkness or a vivid glow were ways she recognized good or bad people.
The way a shadow or light embraced someone's body, Hinata knew the level of trust or distrust she would have in that person. Her parents tried countless times to pretend that it wasn't a reason for her to be so distrustful or to judge people before getting to know them, but it was sad to see the surprise in their eyes when, in the end, she was right.
Another reason was that even in summer or on hot days, her skin was still cold. Her fingers intertwined with her mother's or her classmates' were always so cold that it often frightened anyone who approached her. Many times her nicknames were mean, but even if she spent hours lying on the grass, with the strong sun bathing her, the cold still embraced her.
And the last thing she managed to list in her memory: her eyes shone even brighter at night.
In any case, her human life had been peaceful, regardless of what she still dealt with regarding the other children or other family members and friends in the village. She lived as best she could, learning new things, following her chosen paths, meeting new people, distancing herself from or drawing closer to whomever her eyes allowed. In every other respect, it was a peaceful life, just like her death, even though she was crying amidst it all, her eyes still shone as she gazed at the crescent moon.
And as long as she can remember, she has been able to walk across the entire sky, space, and stars, or sleep lying in the curve of the moon.
Worship for her was recurrent throughout the years after her death; many warriors chanted her prayer while preparing for war or resting while waiting for the sun to rise; many mothers bathed or prayed for the health of their children on nights when the moon shone brightest; many kings declared weekly feasts and frequent banquets as offerings to her.
Those were times bathed in adoration, devotion, requests, and fulfilled wishes. She fulfilled them all, giving as much of her influence as she could to the world and her worshippers. Whenever she felt the need, she pursued it and allowed herself to be like the bright part of the moon that everyone longed to possess.
She never ceased to exist, although various other religions and gods appeared and took her place as a priority in the lives of scattered human beings, she would still be there to accompany human life. She always clung to her own request in life and death, strongly grateful for each moment that the moon embraced and welcomed her into its cradle, bestowing upon her a portion of its crust, its mantle, and its core for her to use as she wished and with all the grace and praise she desired.
The fact that she had been forgotten for so many centuries didn't bother her all the time, because even though humans didn't dedicate their prayers or supplications directly to her, she could still hear the laments, the laughter, the thanks, or the sighs directed towards her whenever someone gazed at the moon at its highest point in the night. They were crumbs for her, but crumbs that still made her feel the reward of simply existing for them.
That's why she was surprised when she heard a complete prayer addressed to her name and in response to her call.
Initially, she didn't recognize who it was; she couldn't truly see the human who sang to her daily, every night, but she recognized the warm, comforting, and ardent golden glow simply by being seen. Something like comfort, home, peace, emanated from the person who sought her out, and from all the devotees she had had over so many centuries, it was the first time that no request was directed to her.
Most prayers followed a ritual: the humming, the chanted prayer, the sweet and gentle conversation that followed, with the person recounting their discoveries or creations. Over time, he discovered it was a child and a boy; he had happened to find an antiquities book and other books about forgotten gods, along with some tabloids and writings about them. He had found a drawing of her, something like a princess with long black hair, her eyes silvery, and the moon behind her, as if illuminating her for the art.
Hinata never knew how humans introduced her to the devotees, but all of creation still existed and was continuous, even if forgotten for centuries. She always knew that the gods somehow guarded all things that held information about them, to prevent time from destroying them and their existence from being erased enough to die without a soul willing to worship them.
For some reason, his tabloids, letters, and descriptions of her and the rituals known in ancient times have been preserved to this day. It was surprising how diverse humans were, to the point of still searching for an ancient goddess to worship and seek out.
Hinata didn't respond to the requests, since they didn't even exist, but she listened every day as he spoke to her.
She didn't realize how many years had passed, but she knew he was probably approaching the age she was when she died, when she was still human. Considering his complaints and grumbling about how difficult it was to deal with his mother and father's demands, the lack of free time to go out and have fun with his close friends, the hectic classes, and how the college entrance exams were anything but kind to him, or how he was only interested in resting for a whole week without thinking about numbers.
She kept track of many of his achievements: his entry into college, his internship in his first year, the apartment he was living in alone since his parents were traveling to another country for religious research, dedicated to publishing another new thesis; the engagement of his two best friends, and everything else he wanted to tell her.
Hinata wasn't offended when he asked for something, a favor, a wish, or something to make his life more comfortable, as he so desperately wanted, but she still felt a need to at least offer something to lighten his mood or provide him with greater comfort. She constantly found herself gazing at him from a distance, longing to get closer and closer to that warm, fiery glow that enveloped him; to hear his laughter close by; to experience the things he spoke of with such joy and enthusiasm. For the first time, she missed being alive and human.
It was a flawed line of reasoning, she knew it. She was dead, merely an interstellar being, and even though she wished she were still alive and frequently in his life, she was so limited in what she could do.
To yearn for the one who would have been willing to stay close and walk side by side while she was alive is like an infinite pain in her own heart. She was existing as she could and was allowed to, and even though she felt that the connection between them was still intense, she didn't want to break something that she didn't even know how it existed.
And that night, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to sleep surrounded by the warmth of the stars while listening to every word prayed in her name, with a warmth and an honest, peaceful feeling emanating from his voice, as he commented once more on his day.
Following the voice as best she could, Hinata opened her eyes as she felt the warmth slowly embrace her skin. The golden glow would surely have blinded her if it had been a human embracing the inexplicable, but standing there, lying beside it, she was able for the first time to feel the cold drain from her body, allowing the warmth to completely envelop her like a cloak draped over her skin.