>The Butterfly Effect. The saying goes that a butterfly flapping its wings stirs a hurricane on the other side of the world. That even the smallest changes now can create great ripples later. So it stands that an even greater catalyst will create greater waves later.
>In one world, Amaterasu and Issun traveled to save Nippon from everlasting darkness on their lonesome.
>In another, they had a 3rd companion of the most unusual sort. 
>You.
>Like a stone upon still water, your presence creates waves that will grow into a tsunami of change. 
>But will those changes be for good… Or not?

----------------------
OKAMI: Ripples
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>Gods.
>Demons.
>Blood.
>Fire.
>The Sunrise
>An ancient land, forever overcast.
>A white wolf. A beautiful woman. Sometimes both together, other times both as one being.
>Phantasms of a world so familiar yet totally alien rush by your eyes with color so blindingly vivid that you want to look away, but you simply can’t.
>Weightlessness gently takes you, but you barely notice. 
>A white wolf. A beautiful woman. Sometimes both together, other times both as one being.
>Fantastic magic and furious melee broken by long travels in tranquil nature and friendships formed. 
>The whole world breathes.
>A hand of personified foulness would see it breathe its last.
>A white wolf. A beautiful woman. Sometimes both together, other times both as one being.
>The weightlessness is gone, letting you fall.
>She would see the world live on even at cost to herself.
>Your eyes sting with tears.
>Sometimes she won, other times, she perished. 
>Her death was a cruelty upon the whole world. A crime against order. Damnation upon all who didn’t try to help. 
>Damnation on you.
>Your eyes open.
----------
>Just in time to see the ground rushing to meet you. 
”Shitshitshi-Oof!”
>You slam into the ground with enough force to drive the wind right out of your lungs, sending you into a sputtering coughing fit.
>For a moment, you sit and gasp, desperately trying to pull air back into your body.
>A minute later, you have your breath back, but just stay laying down as you think over the last few moments.
>’At least the grass smells nice.’ you think ruefully.
>The visions, more akin to waking dreams, have mostly faded and just left half remembered details. Flashes of light, the ring of steel, and the wolf who is sometimes a woman. Or is it a woman who is sometimes a wolf?
>’What the hell was that all about,’ you silently wonder. ‘It all looked like something out of a fucked up movie that changed a little each time. I swear I was at work just a second ago. Did I fall asleep at my desk? Am I still asleep?’
>You roll over to your back and glance at the darkening sky, a chilled wind running over your skin and making the grass tickle your arms and face. 
>’Feels real enough. Jesus, I hope I wasn’t drugged or something.’ 
>”Hey pal. Are you alright?”
>A concerned, high pitched voice pulls you away from your thoughts and back to the outside world.
“I’ve been better,” you admit, sitting up. “Thanks for the concer…”
>You stop when you look around the dark, grassy field you’ve found yourself in and see no one around.
>Left.
>Right.
>Still no one. 
>Who the hell..?
“Uhh…”
>”Down here!”
>You look down and blink at what you see.
>Barely taller than the blades of grass around it is a little bug, glowing a luminescent green and bouncing in place all the way up to knee height. “What's the matter, pal? Never seen a Poncle before?” The bug asks, bouncing forward and landing on your shoe.
>’A Poncle?’ you think, squinting at the curious being, only to find that the ‘bug’ was in fact a tiny man with a beetle shaped hat. He was too small to make out fine details beyond his green aura.
>‘He looks so real, too.’
“I can't say I have,” you carefully say, lacing your fingers and subtly counting them. “I’m not from around here, Mr…”
>”The name is Issun! The Wandering Artist!” the tiny man says, his pride obvious and the emphasis telling you “Wandering Artist” is a title he’s fond of.
“Issun, huh? My name is Anonymous,” you say, internally wondering how you got into this situation. “Nice to meet you,” you say, holding out a hand to Issun.
>The Poncle just stares at your offered hand. “Any reason you’re doing that?”
“Erm,” you pull your hand back. In hindsight trying to handshake someone only a few inches tall seems sort of idiotic. “Nevermind. Anyway, you said you’re an artist?” you change the topic
>Issun’s aura becomes brighter as he hops in place. “Sure am! Here, take a look!” He pulls a paper scroll much larger than himself from… somewhere and throws it to you.
>You catch the scroll and unroll it curiously, only to feel your face heat up a second later.
>On the roll of paper is a woman with long black hair in a pink kimono with some very… revealing cuts made to the bust and rear. A deeper part of your mind notes the traditional japanese styling to the picture.
>”What do you think?”
“It’s very nice. The work of an artist,” you say, covering your real thoughts. You roll up the scroll and give it back to Issun, who somehow stows it away on his person.
>By now you’ve counted your fingers at least eight times, each count numbering ten. Another glance at the landscape shows no changes from your earlier scan. The grass shifts in the correct direction with the wind. Even all the sounds are correct and consistent. If this was a dream or hallucination, then things should change with the unconscious whims of your mind.
>The likelihood of this being a dream is dropping like a brick thrown into a lake.
>Issun bounces in place. “Hehe! Nice to see a man who can appreciate a masterpiece! You’re kind of a weirdo, Anonymous-san, but you’re okay in my book!”
>You snort, but don't comment. ‘I could say the same about you, Issun,’
>”Say, Anonymous-san? I can call you Anon-san, right? Since we’re friends and all, can you help me with something?”
“Gee, thaaaat bodes well,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “I’ve heard you so far, so what’s up?”
>”How did you know I was going to point to the sky?”
“It’s just an expression, Issun,” you say. “What’s wrong with the skyyyyohhh shit.”
>You look up as you talk, taking in the now pitch black sky.
>A scant few moments ago, it was darkening like the sun was going down, but the now black sky is utterly unnatural. There is no way you and Issun were talking long enough for the sun to fully retreat.
>You stand on wobbly legs, still looking up.
>A sudden cold wind almost pushes you over and leaves you shivering, it’s chill penetrating all the way down to your bones.   
“W-what is going on?!” you ask, suddenly feeling out of your depth.
>”I’ve got some ideas, but I hope to the gods that none of them are true, or it could mean a bad ending to this little story,” Issun says ominously, crossing is small arms. “I was talking with Sakuya at the Konohana Tree when the wind blew me all the way down here,” he says, pointing to a path leading up a nearby hill and through a rocky path framed by cliffs. “Everyone else was hit by a curse. Why you weren’t, I have no idea, but I bet that means you’re the best guy to help.”
>’Help? Help with what?!’ You wonder incredulously. ‘Curses, darkness, what sort of bullshit is this?’
“Issun, how the hell could I help here? I’m a normal guy.”
>”You don't look normal,” he says, hopping up to your shoulder. “You don’t sound normal. And I don't think normal guys can resist curses as well as you do.”
>You hold back a biting retort. 
“If there is a curse then why aren’t you affected?”
>The Poncle stops for a moment. “I was protected when the curse first hit the village, and we poncles have some magic resistance. The curse was at its most powerful initially, but leveled out afterward. My resistance is just barely keeping me safe.”
>You really wish you could see his face past his aura. It would make telling if he was lying so much easier.
>But even if you could tell, you still don't know enough of what's going on to call him out.
>Damn it. 
>”Besides, Sakuya was saying something about summoning SHIRANUI.”
>That name, Shiranui… That name invokes an image.
>A white wolf. A beautiful woman. Sometimes both together, other times both as one being.
>Your eyes widen.
>It’s her.
“Fine. I guess I can help,” you say, crossing your arms with a sigh. ‘Curses, poncles, wolf women, where am I?’
>”Right outside Kamiki,” Issun replies. Apparently you said that outloud.
“And that is..?”
>”A village. Duh.”
>You grunt and start walking to the rocky path, crushing the urge to flick Issun off your shoulder. “No, I mean where is Kamiki?”
>”South of Shinshu Field?”
”And further out?”
>”Yeesh. You really are lost, aren’t you? Never heard of Nippon?”
>’Nippon?’ You think with a frown. ‘The ancient name for Japan? What..? There is no fucking way.’
>You count your fingers again.
>Ten
“Motherfucker.”

-----------

---------------------------------------------
   
> Accompanied by Issun, you start your way up the rocky path leading to the ‘Konohana Tree’, whatever that is supposed to be. You ignore the steadily increasing ferocity of the wind in favor of taking stock of yourself.
> ’What a shitshow,’ you think to yourself, resisting the urge to sigh. ‘Let’s see, I’ve got my phone, which is probably no use here. My folding knife, but that thing is so dull from being used so often and never being sharpened that it’s lucky it can still cut paper. My keys probably aren’t worth much either without a car or a front door to go with them. The lonely dollar bill in my wallet probably isn’t worth a thing and I know sure as shit my credit card is useless.’
> You shift your shoulder and arm discreetly, feeling a little bit pleased that you DO have something useful.
> Under your button up over shirt is your eight shot Redhawk in a shoulder holster. The 357 Magnum revolver is a hefty thing, but is reassuring to have on hikes, like the one you were planning on taking after work today.
> Well, before all of this happened.
> The only downside is that you only have two reloads worth of ammunition, giving you a grand total of only 24 shots. Far from ideal when away from home and in a strange land.
> Halfway up the path leading up to the Konohana tree, the already raging wind picks up into a howling, frightful gale that almost pushes you off your feet and rips at your clothing with frigid fingers.
“What the fuck is up with this weather!?” you practically scream, holding up your arms to try and shield your eyes.
> ”It’s the curse!”  Issun exclaims, his words barely audible over the shrieking air. “Whatever is causing it is doing this too! Get moving before we get sucked away or worse!”
“Fucking reassuring!” you scream back, but you comply and run up the path as fast as the buffeting winds will allow.
> Gradually, the near tornado levels of wind begin to die as you charge further up the pass. It lets you drop your arms from your eyes, but the instant that you do, you wish that you didn’t.
> In the far distance you see foliage, entire trees, and even human sized boulders being thrown like toys by the furious weather. Even further out, on the ocean, you see rolling, white capped waves that could swallow entire cities and pitch black clouds practically raining lightning with a staccato of cracks and booms that rattle your bones even from the great distance.
> A primal sort of fear begins to grip you. The fear of forces great and unstoppable. ‘Just what am I getting into?’
> Finally, you and Issun reach the top of the hill at the end of the path where all is eerily quiet, like the eye of a cyclone.
> But there is no tree to be found. The just a hole in the ground and a small stone shrine off to the side.
> ”Here we are!”
> Issun bounds off of your shoulder towards the large hole in the ground. “Hey! Babe! You said something about helping with all of this,” Issun says, obviously indicating the calamity going on around him. “Whatever that is, now would be a great time!”
“Issun?” You question with a raised brow. “You’re talking to thin air.”
> “While I wish I was thin air so I didn’t have to speak to the bug, I am indeed here.”
> You jump back from the unexpected voice, but Issun seems wholly unbothered.
>  A bright light blooms into existence above the hole in the ground, changing to a pink hue. At the same time, the entire hilltop is filled with the scent of unidentifiable flowers. 
> The light  changes shape and dims, settling into the form of a tall, dark haired, and voluptuous woman clad in a pink kimono, who floats several feet above the ground.
>’It’s the same woman as Issun’s drawing,’ you realize with a blink.
> The tall woman looks down at the still bouncing Issun. “Indeed I do have a plan, but I could not protect Kamiki’s people and awaken our savior in one fell swoop. I needed time to gather power.” she says, her tone annoyed. You’re sure her face would mirror her voice if it were not for the look of intense concentration marring her beautiful face with deep lines. “I saved Kamiki… For now. And now it is time for Amaterasu to make her return and aid us in these troubled times.”
> Amaterasu…
> A white wolf. A beautiful woman. Again with the image that seems burned into your mind.
> “Amaterasu?” Issun questions, ceasing his bouncing. “Who are you talking about, Sakuya-chan?”
>”You may know her as Shiranui,” the now named Sakuya answers, the lines on her face growing deeper as sweat begins to dot her brow.
> ‘Sakuya is some kind of tree spirit?’  You question yourself, a starting to feel numb at this point from all the strange revelations.
> The floating woman’s eyes shift to you before they widen. “Someone who is spared the curse? How did…”  she trails off before shaking her head. “I haven’t much time. Once great Amaterasu has purged this evil, I would be interested in meeting you properly, stranger.”
Your mouth is suddenly dry. “Me?”
> She nods. “I am Sakuya, spirit of the Konohana tree. If you were spared a curse as ravaging as this one, I feel you may have your own part to play incoming events.”
> Before you can ask her to elaborate, Sakuya turns away and floats over to the small shrine at the side of the hill. In the shrine is a statue of a sleek wolf, posed to pounce.
> Suddenly, the whole atmosphere changes. The air becomes thick with an almost static charge and pushes down your shoulders. You suck in a breath past your teeth.
> “O great Amaterasu,” Sakuya begins, her whole form glowing. “Now is the time. We have never needed your power more. Shine your divine light upon this broken and polluted world. Let your heavenly rays become our hope as you guide us all!”
>As she speaks,  the tree spirit draws a large circle in the air with a delicate hand, an orange,  crackling trail of energy following it. Once the circle is complete, a large, circular mirror in a green casing  appears before Sakuya in a flash of light. She draws her hand back, the mirror following the action as if pulled along by an invisible string, before she tosses it, the mirror whirling like a frisbee towards the wolf statue.
> The mirror stops just above the statue, facing the wolf’s back. The edges of the mirror spark, before igniting in a wreath of flames.
> The statue cracks.
> The air is suddenly too thick to breathe and so incredibly HOT. You draw in a breath more labored than before.
> What could Amaterasu possibly be to produce such a humbling power as a statue?
> The statue cracks further and further, rays of light with the intensity of the sun peeking out of each one. A piece of the statue’s right eye falls off. Under it, an eye the color of gold snaps open.
> And it stares right at you.
> Even half awake, the single eye strips away any mortal protection that you may have had and gazes right into the depths of who you are.
> It sees all of Anonymous.
> The entire statue is engulfed in golden light almost too intense to look at. The stone shell splinters and shatters as Amaterasu rises from four legs and onto just the back two.
> The light grows blinding, and a howl that could be heard around the world drives past your ears and right into your psyche.
> And at once, you understand who Amaterasu is.
> A Goddess. 
> A white wolf. A beautiful woman. Sometimes both together, other times both as one being.
> This time, she is both at once.
> Rather than a woman or a wolf, the being before you is a perfect melding of both. A human-like body coated in fur the same color as virgin snow and highlighted by whirling crimson markings along her face and neck. Her legs are similar to a canine’s,  but her arms, human.  Both sets of slender limbs are tipped by small black claws on each toe and finger.
> Tufts of black tipped fur stand from her shoulders, her kimono opened enough to expose them, and behind her a black tipped tail hangs limp.  Around her neck is a pure white tuft that hangs down over her chest just short of her breasts. 
> Finally, a simple short-cut kimono colored white and highed with red, held closed by a red obi preserves her modesty. The strange, flaming mirror hovers behind her, seemingly a fixed distance from her back.
> Utterly alien and so far removed from what you know, but never before have you seen such a beautiful creature. You try to look away, but your eyes refuse to stop drinking in the image.
> Unbidden, you think ‘I know a lot of freaks back home would be pitching a pants tent right now or worse if they were me.’ 
> Amaterasu’s canine ears flick on her wolf-like head as her gold eyes, contrasted sharply by her black sclera, scan the scene before her.
> Sakuya is practically beaming. “Ah! Such divine white light! Such beauty and grace! The only one capable of such a wondrous spectacle is none other than our mother and the origin of all that is, Amaterasu! How delightful to see that the savior whose brave sacrifice sealed away the evil demon so many years ago has not changed one bit. Seeing you emerge after so many years spent as a statue brings happiness to my heart!” she gushes with a theatrical sniff.
> Amaterasu regards the spirit before her with a cool gaze.
>... Right before she seats herself on the ground, yawns, and promptly nods off.
You’re speechless for a moment. “Oh fuck. This is the savior, isn’t it?” You ask no one in particular has quiet snores come from the wolf goddess.
> Issun and Sakuya are speechless as well but Sakuya recovers much faster. “... Amaterasu... Gaze above you and take in the condition of the sky. Since your untimely departure from our midst, the world has succumbed to devious and vicious beasts. They have ravaged our fine and bountiful country of Nippon... But never have the circumstances been worse than they are at this very moment. Please use your powers to banish the darkness and punish those who
would do us harm!”
> Issun hops forward when Amaterasu doesn’t respond, bounding up and landing on the tip of her muzzle.
> She cracks open a single golden eye to look at him.
> “What wrong with you, furball? You look kind of down in the dumps,” Issun says with absolutely zero tact. “And you don’t look much like that statue either… Not that I mind that.”
> Even from a good dozen or so feet, you can still see Issun’s gaze wander down to Amaterasu’s chest.
> You would tell Issun off if you didn’t look a few times as well.
> Amaterasu’s lips turn downward as she raises a hand and flicks Issun off of her muzzle, sending him tumbling.
> The poncle manages to correct himself midair and lands on his feet, his aura changing to a furious red as he bounces around with vigor. “Whaddya think you're doin'!? Are you crazy? A handsome guy like me should never be treated like that! What if you marred my face?! You’ll regret messing with the great Issun! Don’t make me use my prized sword, Denkomaru against you!” he says, unsheathing his tiny sword with an even tinier “shing!” sound.
> ”RRROOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAARRRRRRR!”
> Your blood turns to ice.
> An absolutely deafening roar shakes the entire hillside and threatens to burst your eardrums, forcing you to put your hands over your ears and making you grit your teeth.
> Issun jumps even higher than usual in fright and Amaterasu’s downturned lips form a full scowl, but she seems unbothered by the actual noise.
> “Great Amaterasu…” Sakuya starts, but a raised hand emblazoned with a canine paw pad stops her.
> “I apologize for the lethargy, Sakuya.” Amaterasu’s voice is quiet and gentle, but thrumming with so much power that you can easily hear her over the ringing in your ears. “100 years of stillness has done neither my body or mind any favors, but I understand what must be done.”
> As the goddess slowly stands, Sakuya continues, her shoulders slumping and her face now coated in sweat. “O, great goddess Amaterasu... I've used all the power I have to protect Kamiki Village. The village lives on. Their spirits lie encased in my fruit. Cut it free, and the village will be reborn! I trust in you. I know that you will lead us down the right path. Only your awesome power can restore life to the world.”
> Sakuya brings her hands together, and in a whirl of pink flower petals, a great tree materializes in the huge hole in the ground. The tree is devoid of leaves or flowers, but a pink fruit of ridiculous proportions hangs from one of the top branches. It pulsates with light and gives off warmth that you can feel all the way on the ground.
> With a sigh of relief, the tree spirit slowly fades away into nothing.
> ‘I really hope that means that she has gone off to rest, and isn’t…’ You don’t finish the thought.
> Amaterasu looks at the spot Sakuya had just vanished from before turning her eyes to you for the first time since she initially awakened.
> You freeze, once again feeling as if she staring INTO you rather than at you.
> Slowly, she frowns then tilts her head to the side as if puzzled. “You… You can see past my shroud?” She questions carefully, as if wary of falling into a trap.
> ’Shroud? What the fuck is she talking about?’ you frantically question. If you’re being honest with yourself, your more upset about the frown directed your way than the actual question.
> “I wouldn’t be surprised if he could,” Issun cuts in, jumping up to Amaterasu’s shoulder. “Anon-san has been resisting the curse this entire time. No idea how, but he’s been doing it.”
> The goddess’s eyes widen by a slim fraction. “Truly..?”
You gulp. “Erm…I guess?”
> Real smooth, numbnuts.
> “I can see that you have a few questions. Perhaps about the shroud?” Amaterasu says, unbothered by your verbal tripping. “I would appear as just a normal beast to most, to allow them to live normally.” She crosses her arms under her bust. “It’s safer to keep the affairs of gods hidden, but just the ability to see past it…”
> She closes her eyes in thought and is silent for nearly a minute. “Anon-san?”
“Yeah, erm. Anonymous in the full name, but, it’s a little long so Anon is cool..?” You say, internally cringing over tripping over your words yet again.
> Amaterasu opens her eyes again, the barest hints of a smile on her muzzle. “I believe that an adventure is afoot. It may be inappropriate to ask such a thing of you, but I would have you travel with me, if you are willing?”
> You’re floored.
> A literal goddess (at least a literal goddess as far as you can tell) wants to take you along on what will probably be a long and dangerous adventure just minutes after meeting you.
> But you have so many pressing concerns. You look down at the shifting sea of green grass.
> How will you get home?
> What about your friends and family?
> What about your job?
> …What about your entire world? You’re no fool. You know you must be displaced either through time or space.
> You should say no. No, you have other things you need to do. No, you don’t want to risk life and limb. No, you don’t want to be involved with all of this supernatural business.
> But you look up, back at that smile.
> Again, the waking dream surfaces in your mind.
> Sometimes she won, other times, she perished. 
> Her death was a cruelty upon the whole world. A crime against order. Damnation upon all who didn’t try to help.
> But...
> Her victory was mercy to the suffering. A death stroke to chaos. Salvation to all who ally with good.
> You are just a simple man, though. She can find better to help her.
> You should say no.
> Say no.
> No
You look up. “I’ll do it.”
> The smiles grows.