Sota ran so fast that for a moment he worried he might stumble at the slightest unevenness. At the same time, his anger faded the closer he came to his destination—the well. His anticipation grew, until the moment he stepped through the open doorway. It was almost as if the building were surrounded by an invisible barrier that resisted him as he tried to enter. He managed it nonetheless, and immediately a strange sensation coursed through him—a feeling as though his life force were steadily draining with every moment he spent here. Moreover, it almost seemed as if all warmth and color had been stripped from the place.
Sota shuddered and took a deep breath. He had come this far. There was no turning back now! In his hand he clenched Haruki's soul orb as tightly as he could before slowly moving forward.
He went so far inside that he had to marvel at it himself, because from the outside the building hadn't seemed large at all! The path to the spring—into which he would have to place Haruki's soul—was lined with countless ancient, though partially collapsed, columns. They were pale, almost as if made of marble, but upon closer inspection they too appeared to be unmistakably not of this world. Carefully, Sota stretched out his hand toward the mother-of-pearl–shimmering walls between the columns. He pulled it back before he could touch them, as the ground was shaken by a brief but distinct tremor—almost as if something were urging him to go on.
Yet instead of imposing structures, a large, old well awaited him, surrounded by various mythical heroes. Most of the figures, as well as the front part of the well's rim, were broken. One figure, resembling an angel, held a large jug from which water flowed incessantly, even though one of its wings was missing.
Sota approached the water, intending to touch it, when suddenly a soft voice sounded. "Ebisu…" it whispered. "No. Sota, isn't it?" Sota shuddered when he heard his old name. He didn't know what to do. Should he answer? He had been warned about this place. At the same time, the desire—the longing not to have Haruki with him anymore—was so incredibly strong that he couldn't help himself. Was that the price of immortality? To tumble from one sorrow into the next, without being able to do anything about it?
"H-hello…!" he stammered, more uncertain than he had intended, clearing his throat and repeating the greeting. "Hello! My—!" But the voice interrupted him. It sounded neither amused nor did it betray any other emotion. "My dear Sato. Surely you, too, have already realized that everything follows its predetermined paths. Your connection to Aita would open new ways, would create new gods—would bring forth much good, but also much evil. And yet you have come, despite all the warnings of what calamity a bargain with me could mean. All to grant a human life. Or do you truly intend to voice the sacrilegious wish that would make him an immortal god? Tell me, my dear god of fortune—why should I do that?"
At first, Sota merely pressed his lips together, until he began to bite down on his lower lip. "Please…! I beg you…! He is the first who showed me what it means to be loved. He never cared where I came from, that I had nothing to offer—not even to myself—or that I had achieved nothing. He just looked at me and loved me. Unconditionally. And I—?" Sato felt hot tears run down his cheeks. He lowered his head for a moment before wiping his eyes. "Take me instead of him. Let me die. Haruki was always someone who could effortlessly give others a feeling of happiness, while I was only fortunate enough to be born and to meet him. I beg you…"
With his final words, the god of fortune fell to his knees, letting Haruki's soul orb slip from his grasp. It rolled away and fell into the water of the well.