Villain: Your Heroines Were Delicious

Seijirou opened his eyes, shielding them for a moment against a brilliance that felt cleaner than any light he had ever known.

When his vision cleared, he found himself standing on a wide, meticulously paved stone terrace on the very peak of a mountain.

Before him, a set of ancient stone stairs, worn smooth by the passage of countless invisible feet, led down toward a small, humble village nestled in the valley below.

He looked around in a daze. The scenery was breathtaking—a lush, vibrant tapestry of greens and golds that felt more “real” than the world he had left behind.

A gentle breeze, smelling of pine needles and wild lilies, brushed against his skin, and the warm rays of the sun felt like a comforting embrace.

Everything was… peaceful.

There was no scent of rot, no sound of screaming, and no weight of corruption.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

The voice was like a low-tuned bell, melodic and carrying an ancient resonance.

“Yes. Very much so,” Seijirou replied softly.

He turned around and felt his breath hitch.

Standing before him was an incredibly beautiful woman. She had long, flowing hair the color of deep forest moss that cascaded down to her waist, and she wore a simple, elegant white robe that seemed to glow with its own internal light.

A delicate golden tiara rested upon her brow, and her blue eyes—vast and clear as a mountain lake—stared at him with a gentle, knowing warmth.

Behind her stood a simple wooden temple. It was small and humble, built with masterful joinery and a deep respect for the surrounding nature.

It was the complete antithesis of the stone monstrosity used by the High Priest; it didn’t scream of stolen wealth or depravity, but of quiet, enduring faith.

“I guess you are the Mountain God? Or goddess, rather,” Seijirou said, find his voice.

“I am.” The goddess smiled, and it felt like spring arriving in an instant. “My name is Mayumi, the local Goddess of Mountains and Rivers. It is a pleasure to finally be meeting you properly, Kageyama Seijirou-kun.”

Seijirou blinked, “You know me?”

“I do.” Mayumi chuckled, a sound so beautiful and rich that Seijirou felt he could get lost in it for an eternity. “You could say that we are fated to meet… or something of that nature. Although this is the first time we have stood face-to-face in this realm, I have known you since the moment you were born. I have watched your spark grow from across the veil.”

“That’s kinda creepy,” Seijirou remarked, though he couldn’t help but smirk.

“Is it?” Mayumi tilted her head, her long hair shimmering. “I think it’s quite romantic, don’t you think? To be watched over by the earth itself?”

“Well, I guess gods have different common sense than us mere mortals. To us, that’s usually called stalking,” Seijirou joked, the tension finally leaving his shoulders.

“That, we do.” She extended a slender, pale hand toward him, her fingers tapering elegantly. “Won’t you walk with me for a while? This world is a memory, and it won’t last forever.”

Seijirou reached out and took her hand, her skin felt like warm silk, yet firm to hold. “Naturally. It is an honor to hold hands with a goddess. I should probably tell my friends, though they’d never believe me.”

Mayumi chuckled softly, her eyes dancing with a playful light. “We can do more than hold hands if you truly want, Seijirou-kun.”

Seijirou raised an eyebrow, his usual wit returning in full force. “Is that a divine offer?”

“Maybe,” she whispered, her smile deepening.

The two of them shared a look of mutual understanding before they turned toward the stairs.

They began the long descent down the mountain, walking side-by-side as they stared out at the pristine scenery of a bygone era.

“This is the mountain as it was hundreds of years ago,” Mayumi said, her voice nostalgic. “Back then, I was not a Great Goddess. I was a simple forest sprite, a spirit of the trees wandering the mountain alone, content with the rustle of leaves and the chatter of brooks.”

Seijirou remained silent, patiently listening. He could feel the weight of her history through the touch of her hand.

“But, one day, I saw a man,” she continued. “He was a simple woodcutter, climbing this peak in desperate search of a rare herb for his sick wife. Tragedy struck when a summer storm hit and he was pinned under a fallen cedar, his life fading in the cold rain. Although there are ancient rules that supernatural entities cannot interfere directly with the mortal world, those rules can be bent slightly for a pure heart. So, I saved him. I lifted the tree and even guided his hand to the herb he sought.”

At that moment, they were already halfway down the stairs, the village below coming into clearer view.

“Ever since then, that man climbed the mountain every single day to pray. He brought small offerings and whispered his thanks to the wind. Soon, he brought his wife with him—she had recovered, you see. Eventually, many people heard of his ’miracle’ and started praying as well. They built that simple temple for me, and their collective belief transformed me from a sprite into a Goddess.”

Mayumi chuckled, her eyes misting over as she thought of those golden years as she thought of the times when the villagers would offer her the first fruits of the season, praying for rain during a drought or a bountiful harvest to survive the winter.

She had truly enjoyed watching them.

She enjoyed helping them find lost paths, enjoyed watching them overcome the struggles of life.

But she also felt their pain.

She got hurt when she saw them fail.

She felt a phantom sting when she saw them give up on their dreams.

And she felt a profound, hollow ache every time she saw one of “her” children die and return to the earth.

Mayumi continued her tale, her voice growing somber as the path leveled out. “But then, as time passed, society developed. The world grew loud and fast. Eventually, they started to forget me. The small prayers became infrequent, then they stopped altogether.”

They reached the village below.

It was a place of thatched roofs and communal fires.

They watched the illusory villagers go about their lives—smiling, working the fields, and living a simple, humble life that felt untainted by modern cynicism.

“I didn’t mind it at all, though,” Mayumi confessed. “Children grow up and leave their nests. It is only natural. Even when they began to pollute the rivers with their factories and destroy the mountainsides for their mines, I told myself it was just part of human advancement. I tried to be a proud mother.”

She looked up at the sky, where the sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon. “Still, I was hurt. It is a lonely thing to be a forgotten god. And that pain only intensified when those priests arrived more than twenty years ago. They began depraving my temple, perverting my ancient rituals, and feeding me the dark energy of blood and fear.”

She turned toward Seijirou, smiling sadly, her blue eyes reflecting a deep regret. “I could have stopped them, you know. I am the mountain, and I could have swallowed them whole. But, driven by the pollution of the mountains and rivers, my mind was already quite corrupted, so I didn’t. Although their acts were depraved, because of that corruption, a part of me felt… happy. I was happy that my children had finally come back to me and were relying on my power once again, even if that power was being used for evil. I was so lonely that I accepted the poison just to be noticed.”

She shook her head, sighing a sound that felt like the autumn wind. “But it was a mistake. A terrible, selfish mistake. And in the end, I almost destroyed the very village and the people that I have always loved.”

She slowly let go of Seijirou’s hand. “And for stopping that, I want to thank you, Seijirou. Because of you, the cycle is broken. Everything is fine now. I am… very, very grateful.”

At that moment, the world around them began to ripple.

Mayumi’s body started to fade, her edges blurring into shimmering motes of emerald and gold light.

She looked down at her hands and chuckled softly. “Oh my, it seems my time is finally up. The link to the physical world is severed.”

She turned toward Seijirou one last time and opened her palm as a brilliant, pulsing green glowing orb appeared there, hovering just above her skin.

It radiated a feeling of growth, stability, and ancient power. “Take this. My final gift for you.”

Seijirou stared at the orb and extended his hands, his heart heavy. “This is…”

“My divinity,” Mayumi said, her voice now echoing as if from a great distance while she was smiling, a radiant, peaceful expression. “Take it. Although it is but a mere fraction of the power I once held, it contains the essence of the mountain and the river. It should be very useful to you in the battles to come.”

Seijirou stared at the glowing orb, then back to her fading form. “What about you? If you give this to me, what happens to you?”

“Me?” Mayumi seemed taken aback by his concern, but her smile grew even gentler. “I will fade away. I will return to the great stream of essence. Just like that.”

Seijirou stared at her, his jaw tightening. “…Is that all? Are there no more ’choices’ after this? No more path for you?”

Mayumi blinked, her form now almost transparent. “Ah, now that you mention it… I believe gods can reincarnate as well, if the soul is strong enough. Perhaps I will return as a blade of grass, or a bird, or perhaps… another girl.”

Seijirou smiled wryly, a sad humor in his eyes. “How long will that even take? You’re a goddess of mountains, you probably measure time in eras.”

Mayumi shrugged, her form now little more than a silhouette of light. “I don’t know. Ten years? A hundred years? Ten thousand years? Time is a strange thing once you leave the flesh.”

“I’ll be long dead by then,” Seijirou said, his voice quiet.

“Maybe.” Mayumi shook her head, her eyes sparkling with a final, mischievous light. “But I believe that we will meet again, Seijirou-kun. Our threads are knotted together now. So… will you wait for me? Will you look for me in the next life?”

Seijirou smiled faintly, a look of absolute resolve crossing his face as he reached out to catch the glowing orb of divinity. “Of course. No matter how long it takes, or how many lives I have to go through. I’ll be waiting.”

Mayumi smiled brightly, “… Seijirou, do you know, although I call myself a mother, I actually haven’t had a children of my own.”

She walked towards him, standing so close to him that if she tilted her head just by an inch, she would’ve captured his lips.

“Since you will be waiting for me, then you have to take responsibility. The next time we meet, let’s have ten thousand years of romance, Seijirou.”

Mayumi offered one last, beautiful laugh before she dissolved completely into a pillar of light that shot toward the heavens.

Seijirou stood alone in the white void for a moment, clutching the warm, pulsing green orb to his chest, before the world of the living came rushing back to meet him.