A Day in the Life: Raijin
The Cloud Palace
Raijin does not sleep in a bed. He sleeps on a cumulonimbus cloud, drifting 20,000 feet above the Pacific Ocean. He wakes up with a snort, lightning crackling from his nostrils.
He sits up, a fearsome figure of red skin and a wild mane of white fire. Muscular and bare-chested, wearing only tiger-skin trousers, he commands the sky. Behind him floats a large ring attached to eight small drums—the source of his power. He stretches, his joints popping with the sound of firecrackers. Looking down at Japan, he sees a sunny day. Boring.
He looks over at his brother, Fujin, the God of Wind. Fujin is green-skinned, carrying a large bag of wind over his shoulder, and currently asleep on a cirrus cloud. Raijin kicks Fujin’s cloud. "Wake up, bag-man. Let's make some noise."
Building the Beat
They drift towards Kyoto, where the heat is rising from the city and the humidity is high. Perfect conditions. Raijin loves a summer storm. Winter storms are depressing, and typhoons are messy. But a summer thunderstorm? That is art. That is chaos controlled.
He begins to play. Taking his hammers—two golden mallets—he taps the first drum. Boom. A low rumble rolls across the sky. Below, he sees the humans looking up, checking their umbrellas while construction workers wipe their brows. Raijin grins and taps a rhythm. Boom-ta-boom.
Clouds begin to gather, dark and heavy. Fujin wakes up properly and opens his bag just a crack. A gust of cold wind sweeps through the streets, swirling the dust. Raijin hits the drums harder. CRACK. A bolt of lightning arcs from the ring, striking a lightning rod on Tokyo Tower. "Too early," Fujin criticizes. "You have no patience." "I am Thunder," Raijin retorts. "I am not subtle." He unleashes a solo, beating the drums with a frenzy. Boom-CRACK-Rumble-BOOM. Rain begins to fall—fat, heavy drops that hiss on the hot pavement.
The Navel Snatcher
The storm is in full swing now. The sky is black, and the rain is torrential. Raijin leans over the edge of his cloud, looking for something specific. Japanese parents tell their children: "Hide your belly button when it thunders, or Raijin will come and eat it!" It is a strange legend, but Raijin finds it hilarious. He doesn't actually eat belly buttons—they taste like lint—but he likes to scare the kids who don't listen.
He spots a boy running home from school, shirt untucked, belly exposed. Raijin leans down and whispers in a voice like grinding tectonic plates. COVER IT. The boy yelps, pulls his shirt down, and runs faster. Raijin laughs. "Gotcha." He throws a lightning bolt at a tree nearby just to add an exclamation point, splitting it down the middle.
The Duel
The storm moves out to sea. Raijin is full of energy, the electricity coursing through his veins making him restless. He challenges Fujin to a wrestling match.
They land on a deserted island. The Wind God vs. The Thunder God. They grapple. Fujin is fast, slippery as a breeze, while Raijin is brute force and shock. Raijin grabs Fujin’s arm, sending shockwaves rippling out to flatten the palm trees. Fujin retaliates with a blast of gale-force wind that knocks Raijin into the sand. They wrestle for an hour, causing high waves and localized squalls. A passing fishing boat radios the coast guard about "freak weather patterns." Finally, they collapse on the beach, exhausted. Raijin rubs his shoulder. "Good match." Fujin nods. "You’re getting slow, sparky."
The Recharge
The stars come out. The air is scrubbed clean, smelling of ozone and wet earth. Raijin floats back up to the stratosphere. He hangs his drums on a hook made of moonlight and lies back on his cloud.
He closes his eyes, listening to the static electricity of the planet and feeling the magnetic fields shifting. Being a god is hard work. You have to be scary. You have to be loud. You have to remind the mortals that they are small. But there is a beauty in the violence. The rain he brought today will water the rice fields. The lightning put nitrogen into the soil. He is destruction, yes. But he is also life.
He snores. A small spark jumps from his nose. Somewhere over the ocean, a sailor hears distant thunder and wonders if a storm is coming.
