Technically, Akari had lied when she told her housemates that she didn't get any sleep the previous night. She had slept. And she had dreamed.

She dreamed of a future where she had Inara all to herself. Inara lavished love upon her and only her, and life was wonderful. They weren't entirely alone, since they had hired human shrine maidens and other staff to help out at the shrine, but all the animal spirits had moved out. Over the years, the spirits had grown and changed and found their own happiness elsewhere. Akari kept in touch with her old friends, but they grew apart over time, like people do.

In this vision, everything was perfect. Until Akari died. After over 80 years at Inara's side, at the ripe old age of 103, Akari passed away from natural causes. She smiled as she died in Inara's arms, leaving the world with no fear and no regrets.

"I love you, Inara-hime," were Akari's last words.

"And I love you, Akari," the goddess whispered as the last spark of life left Akari's body.

In the deepest reaches of Inara's heart, she had hoped that Akari would ascend and become a spiritual being, to stay with her forever. But she had enough foresight to know that it wasn't meant to be; for better and for worse, Akari was human. That included her brief lifespan, barely a flash in the pan compared to Inara's immortality.

Inara seemed fine for a long while after that. She remained the deity of the shrine for another twenty years, and she wore a wide smile whenever her old friends visited. They were immortal too, and they liked to stop by as they travelled the world. They had new lives and lovers of their own, and they were happy.

But Inara didn't let anyone into her heart. When Usagi offered to return to the shrine, to return to Inara's side as a lover, Inara refused and said, "My heart still belongs to Akari, and always will. And I'm okay with that."

After a few more years, cracks began to appear in Inara's facade. She was far lonelier than she let on. She stopped commissioning art, and then stopped maintaining the artwork she already had. Then she fired all of her staff and closed the shrine.

"As Inari-okami or Inara-hime, I've been a major player for long enough. Other gods deserve the limelight now," she said as she bid farewell to her priestesses.

That was the inflection point. Her downward spiral had begun long before, but that moment was when its terrible velocity became apparent. From then on, Inara refused all help, forcefully if needed, and her mental state rapidly declined. She stopped leaving the shrine entirely and she let the structure fall to snow and rain and rot.

Inara had given up on life, but death would not take her. For better and for worse, she was truly immortal.

Within another decade, the entire forest south of Shinjō was dark and dying. The local government claimed that a chemical spill had poisoned the land, but the only poison there was Inara's mental state. Her sorrow had seeped into the earth, the plants, and the very air, creating a boiling miasma that killed any mortal foolish enough to wander in. It also kept all spirits at bay, no matter their spiritual power. If there was anyone left to help Inara, they couldn't reach her now.

And the toxic grief spread at an accelerating pace. Within five years, the entire city of Shinjō was uninhabitable, despite all of humanity's scientific attempts to cleanse the corruption. Even mankind's best spiritualists were no match for the mourning goddess's power. Within ten years, the mountains beneath Japan had rotted to their cores, and then they fractured, spewing endless ash and lava into the sky while the corruption burrowed deeper down toward the planet's core. It was a chain reaction from there, and humanity had no choice but to flee the planet.

Over a century of technological advancement, thanks in part to Inara's domain of Progress, gave them the tools to escape Earth, but only barely. Some humans rode massive colony ships into deep space while others attempted to settle upon the barren red sands of mars. Most of humanity remained on Earth during the destruction, their physical bodies dying while digital replicas lived on in virtual worlds housed in solar-powered satellites.

The once living, breathing planet was reduced to a ruined wasteland. The human species was wiped from its surface, all driven away or doomed to a digital afterlife. From one perspective, it was a form of progression, inspired by the Goddess of Progress. But to Akari, it was a nightmare, and one that she felt personally responsible for.

Just before the vision finally ended, after the last glimmer of mortal life on Earth had faded, two golden eyes shined up from the ashes, feral and haunted. And the sight broke Akari's heart.

Akari awoke in tears, gasping for air. She felt completely exhausted, both physically and mentally. She had no energy to even process the dream, and much of its message slipped through her fingers like oily black liquid, leaving only painful residue behind.

She toppled out of bed, crushed by a splitting headache that stifled all thoughts. She tried to get dressed, but after several feeble attempts, she gave up and collapsed back on the bed.

I can't even think straight right now. I need rest, she decided.

She told her housemates that she hadn't been able to sleep a wink and needed the day off from her shrine duties. The girls were all supportive, and Usagi volunteered to check on her and bring meals.

And once again Akari slept restlessly, dreaming the same terrifying vision again and again.

It took three days of this dreadful cycle for Akari to seek help, but Inara had sensed the need before that. She was ready and waiting when Akari asked to talk, but what Akari had to say surprised her.

Once they were inside Inara's soundproof room, Akari said, "I've been having visions of the end of the world again, whenever I sleep. The end doesn't happen until after my time, but it definitely happens because of me. And because of you."

Inara frowned deeply. "But we decided that vision was just a warning, something easily avoided."

"It's more than that," Akari admitted, slumping into Inara's waiting embrace. "I've seen so many variations of this future now. They all start the same way and take different paths in the middle, but always end the same. I think that avoiding this fate will be a far more difficult task than we thought."

Inara didn't like the sound of that. "Okay. What do I need to do?" she asked expectantly.

"Nothing," Akari said. Then when Inara tried to cut in, Akari pressed a finger to Inara's lips. "I have an idea about the root cause, and it isn't your problem to solve."

"Huh?" Inara's ears twitched and she stared at Akari intensely.

"It's mine. Mine and the other girls'."

Inara's gaze grew even more intense. "Explain, please."

"Remember the visions I had when I first became your Chosen One? All the lifetimes I witnessed, always ending with me in your arms, destined to be with you until the end?"

Inara nodded. Before Akari, she had never known that such a fated ending was part of being Chosen by a god, but knowing that wouldn't have changed Inara's decisions in the slightest.

Akari continued, "Most of those visions included the other girls there at the end, Inu and Seshi and Hebi and Usagi. And sometimes others who I didn't even recognize. They were all there to comfort you, to be your companions and friends and lovers. To show you joy again after I leave."

Akari had to take a deep breath to settle her nerves before she continued, "But the visions I've had this week… they're different. You and I always have each other, but we're otherwise alone. The other girls have all moved on, found new lives elsewhere. Then when I die, you don't have anyone at all at your side, or in your heart. And you're so committed to me and my memory that you refuse to let anyone back in. You go mad with grief and loneliness, and it dooms the world."

Inara lowered her head, then whispered, "And you think that's the true problem? That we need to keep the others from leaving? I'm sure if we just tell them—"

"No!" Akari nearly shouted.

Inara flinched, but said nothing.

"If we tell them they need to stay at your side to keep you from ending the world, they wouldn't have a choice. It wouldn't be their love that keeps them in your life. It would be obligation. It wouldn't be genuine care and support, and it wouldn't solve anything." Akari spoke as though she had seen that approach attempted, and had seen it fail.

For once, Inara was the one who was lost, scrambling for answers. "So, what do we do then? Hide this from them while working to keep them happy? How will we know if any of this is even working?"

Akari smiled and it was a welcome ray of sunshine in such a bleak conversation. "As I said, you don't need to do anything. Just trust in me. Every night, I'll use my power and see how my actions that day changed the future. And when my death doesn't cause you to pull away and shut down, I'll know it worked."

"Easier said than done," Inara said. "Do you even have a plan beyond that? Do you have any idea what you'd need to say to the other girls to change their futures?"

"I have a few ideas. And if those don't pan out, I've got eighty years to experiment." Akari's smile in that moment was so confident, so determined and genuine, that it burned away all of Inara's lingering doubts about the plan.

"Eighty years… Is that how much longer you'll live, Akari?" Inara asked. She had never dared to use foresight to check that particular detail. She had been terrified of the possible answers.

"On average, yes. I know it's not long, compared to you, so I want to get this end-of-the-world thing figured out soon. So we can spend our remaining time being happy."

Inara pulled Akari closer, staring deep into her eyes. "Why wait to be happy? Let's start now."

She kissed Akari passionately, both fearfully and hopefully. And as Akari returned the kiss, the fear began to fade until only hope remained. Inara chose to trust Akari, to believe that she could find the path forward.

"I love you, Akari," the goddess whispered.

"And I love you, Inara-hime."