Wintering

"Why? The four seasons change year after year, just the same. Is that really more interesting than playing matchmaker?"

Of course not. He was simply tired of all those partings in life and death, of love that ran deep but fate that was shallow.

People believed in him, worshiped him, and prayed to him for happiness and a blissful marriage.

He had seen countless people come to temples to pray for love. They came and went, praying devoutly year after year. Even with temples packed with worshipers and candles burning without end, all he could do was remain unmoved.

So people believed in the gods and prayed for their protection, yet didn't believe in him, and accused Heaven of being heartless.

Why was that? Was it because he couldn't bear people's fickleness, or because he considered himself numb?

For some reason, he thought of the girl who had prayed for peace at the Matchmaker Temple that day.

He watched the ceaseless crowds and snow swirling through the sky, and for a moment felt a little wistful.

He had been in charge of the four seasons for a year.

But the past year had never gone as he hoped. He had traveled between north and south, seen the harshness of the world, felt the warmth and coldness of human nature, and witnessed the decadent lives of wealthy officials and nobles.

Those who were content with little and had no desires seemed all the more precious.

"Will I meet a kind-hearted god this year?"

So he entered the mortal world.

He had lived for over 2,000 years, yet couldn't withstand just a few short days among humans.

He was willing to wash his soul clean and enter the cycle of reincarnation again, all for that little, perhaps insignificant, connection.

A bored god who demotes himself × a human girl

This is a story I promised a friend I'd write in high school. It's a little old-fashioned.

This is a direct translation of my high school manuscript. Please excuse any typos.

Theme: Better to believe in yourself than to fall in love with a god