The night air in Shibuya was cool and calm. Neon lights glimmered faintly through drifting mist, their colors reflecting off rain-slick streets. Riku Tenma, seventeen, adjusted the strap of his backpack and exhaled quietly as he left the dojo. His body was sore from training, but his mind remained sharp as ever the mark of someone used to discipline.
He was the kind of student teachers envied: sharp, athletic, and polite. He had a quiet confidence about him, the kind that didn't need to be flaunted. Captain of his school's kendo team, top five in academics, decent at just about every sport he tried. His life was planned for university, competitions, a career maybe. Nothing extraordinary, but steady.
He stopped by the vending machine outside the station, bought a bottle of tea, and crossed the bridge toward his neighborhood park. The moon hung huge and luminous above the skyline, casting silver light over the empty streets. For a moment, he just watched it.
"Kind of looks lonely tonight," he murmured to himself.
Then, the world stopped.
The wind halted mid-breath. The faint hum of the streetlights vanished. Even the rippling reflection of the moon in the river froze still. Riku blinked and the sky shattered.
Light, silver and endless, swallowed everything. His breath caught in his throat as the world dissolved into a vast, shimmering void. He wasn't standing anymore. He wasn't even falling. He simply was suspended in radiance.
A voice spoke calm, eternal, echoing through the emptiness.
> "You have your mother's eyes."
Riku spun toward the voice. A tall man stood before him robed in flowing garments that gleamed like liquid moonlight. His long silver hair drifted weightlessly, and his eyes, calm and ancient, carried the reflection of endless stars.
"Who… who are you?" Riku managed, his pulse steady despite the absurdity of it all.
The man smiled faintly, the expression somehow both kind and heavy.
> "Tsukuyomi. God of the Moon. The one who watches the balance of worlds."
Riku blinked, half in disbelief. "That…That's a myth. A name from Shinto legends."
> "Your world remembers shadows," Tsukuyomi said. "But even shadows are cast by truth."
The void stirred. Images rippled through it two divine figures shaping the cosmos together: one radiant and golden, the other serene and silver. Riku watched in silence as stars, mountains, and oceans bloomed into existence beneath their touch. Then the scene darkened the two gods turning from one another, their creations dividing like day from night.
> "Long ago," Tsukuyomi continued, "I and the Goddess of Blessings forged existence together. She gave it light and life. I gave it order and reflection. But she grew obsessed with her creation with humanity. She declared them perfect, the pinnacle of all things. I saw potential in all, not just them. So we parted ways. Her world basked in light. Mine in balance."
The god's voice softened, and his gaze turned back to Riku.
> "Your parents came from her world. They fled her judgment and found sanctuary in yours. I sheltered them there, hidden among mortals. But they made a pact that in twenty-five years' time, one of their children would return to fulfill the balance."
Riku's heart skipped. "So… my parents weren't from Earth."
> "No. And now their time is done. The pact calls you, Riku Tenma."
He clenched his fists. "And if I refuse?"
Tsukuyomi's expression didn't waver.
> "The promise binds your blood. Refusal would mean your existence fading from both worlds. I will not force you… but neither will fate yield."
Riku breathed out slowly, forcing his mind to stay clear. "So, what happens when I go?"
> "You will face judgment by the Goddess herself," Tsukuyomi said. "She has already summoned two heroes to fight for her world's survival. You are not one of them. But you will still be seen, weighed, and perhaps… used."
Riku's jaw tightened. "And you're just sending me into that?"
> "Not without reason." The god's tone softened. "You are your parents' son, clever, calm, and adaptable. You will endure what others cannot. You will see what others are blind to."
The void began to pulse faintly, threads of silver forming around Riku's feet. "Wait—!" he shouted as light began to pull him downward. "Tsukuyomi, what am I supposed to do?"
The god's final words echoed faintly, almost tender.
> "Remember this: perfection blinds, but balance sees. When light burns too bright, the moon rises to temper it."
And then, Riku fell, swallowed by the radiance.
When the light faded, he stood on marble.
The sky above him was not blue, but endless gold. Floating gardens drifted in the air like islands of paradise, rivers of light winding between them. The air shimmered with a scent of eternal spring.
Before him, upon a throne of white stone, sat the Goddess.
Her beauty was overwhelming hair like molten sunlight, eyes like polished amber, skin that glowed faintly with divine brilliance. Her presence pressed down upon the air itself. Riku could barely breathe beneath it.
> "So this is the child Tsukuyomi sends me," she said, her tone light, distant like a queen commenting on a stray pebble. "The son of the traitors."
Riku straightened, though every instinct told him to kneel. "Riku Tenma. And you must be the Goddess of Blessings."
Her lips curved faintly. "You speak my name so casually."
"Names are meant to be spoken," Riku said quietly. "If I can't even say yours, how could I understand you?"
The Goddess regarded him not with anger, but with faint, curious disdain. "You are clever. Arrogant, perhaps. You remind me of them."
She rose gracefully, every motion a ripple of light. "You were not summoned. I have no need for you. Two chosen heroes already bear my will. Your arrival is Tsukuyomi's interference, his tiresome obsession with balance."
"So, what happens now?" Riku asked.
> "Now?" She smiled faintly. "You will be dismissed."
Her words carried finality, but Riku didn't move. His mind, sharp and calculating, was already turning.
"Then before you send me away," he said, "grant me a blessing."
Her head tilted. "A mortal asks me for a blessing?"
"A deal," Riku corrected, meeting her gaze. "You didn't ask for me, and I didn't ask for this. But if I'm to survive in your world even temporarily I need something to understand it. A blessing that allows me to comprehend what I see. Knowledge for survival."
Silence.
Then, laughter musical, divine, mocking.
"A System? The old gift of insight, long abandoned. You mortals and your fascination with knowledge amuse me. Very well, then. I shall grant you this 'System,' this blessing of understanding. It will let you see the essence of all things, their strengths, their truths, their natures. But I will take something in return."
Riku frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Your voice," she said. "You will speak every language under heaven except the tongue of men. Until your purpose is revealed, the speech of humanity shall reject you."
He hesitated, then nodded. "Agreed."
Her golden eyes flickered faintly, surprise, maybe admiration. Few mortals would have accepted so easily.
"And one more thing," Riku added quickly, his tone almost mischievous. "If you ever summon me again, you'll grant me one more blessing, anything I choose."
The Goddess arched an eyebrow. "You dare negotiate with divinity?"
"I don't think you'll ever need me," Riku said simply. "So it costs you nothing."
Her laughter returned softer this time, like sunlight on water.
"Very well, little mortal. I accept. But be warned: bargains with gods are never what they seem."
Her hand rose. Golden light bloomed, wrapping around Riku like fire and silk. He gasped as it flooded through his veins a surge of warmth, clarity, and divine understanding. The world around him flickered patterns, names, invisible lines of energy, all coming into focus.
> "Now go," the Goddess said. "Live among my creations. Watch the heroes I have chosen. Aid them, or do not it matters little. But know this, boy of the Moon: the light of humanity shines brightest when it burns alone."
The light swallowed him once more this time like a wave, drowning everything.
When Riku's vision cleared again, he was floating in a silver mist. The warmth of the Goddess's radiance was gone, replaced by the cool serenity of moonlight. The air hummed softly, calm and endless.
Tsukuyomi stood before him again.
> "You handled her well," the god said, faint amusement in his voice. "Few mortals bargain with the Goddess and leave intact."
Riku brushed his sleeve, adjusting to the faint echo of the system now whispering faintly in his mind. Status acknowledged. Blessing: Divine Insight obtained.
"She didn't like me," he muttered.
> "She doesn't like anyone who isn't perfect," Tsukuyomi replied. "But you… are not bound by her perfection."
The god lifted his hand, and five motes of silver light drifted toward Riku, materializing into form:
A sword forged from moonsteel smooth, pale, weightless.
A cloak woven with threads of night sky.
A silver mask, featureless and reflective.
A traveler's outfit of dark fabric and white accents.
And finally, a leather-bound tome marked with runes that shimmered faintly.
> "These belonged to your lineage," Tsukuyomi said. "Your parents once wielded them when they crossed into your Earth. They will serve you now."
Riku touched the sword's hilt; it felt alive, pulsing faintly with lunar energy. "They're… beautiful."
Tsukuyomi's eyes softened. "And one more gift, a blessing beyond the Goddess's reach."
He pressed his hand to Riku's chest, and silver ripples spread outward. The void shivered with faint power.
> "This is Kai, the Moon's Blessing. It is not magic. Not life. It is to balance the field of your will. You may use it to strengthen your body, perceive what hides, heal what breaks, conceal yourself, shield others, or even silence the minds that pry too deep. Its reach will grow with you as vast as your heart allows."
Riku gasped as the power settled into him cold and vast, yet comforting, like moonlight on a sleepless night.
"Why give me this?" he asked.
> "Because your parents once gave me something gods rarely receive," Tsukuyomi said. "Kindness."
He stepped back, his figure beginning to dissolve into starlight. "You will awaken in her world soon. Learn it. Survive it. And when the time comes decide what deserves to endure."
Riku looked up, meeting the god's fading gaze. "And if I fail?"
> "Then the balance tips. And light, unchecked, will consume even itself."
The last of Tsukuyomi's form vanished, leaving only a whisper carried through the void:
> "The Goddess gave the world light. I gave it balance. You, Riku Tenma, will decide which remains."
The silver mist broke apart, and gravity took him.
He fell through stars, through silence, through clouds of shimmering gold.
The scent of foreign wind filled his lungs.
And beneath him, the world of the Goddess unfolded vast forests, silver seas, mountains carved with light.
The Moon's child had arrived.
And the world would never be the same.
End of Prelude – "Moonshine Fantasy"