Kira

For every word, for every concept.

A god.

Fickle, temperamental beings that have walked among mankind, unbeknownst to them, since time immemorial. Some had taken on the role of leaders and great conquerors, steering humanity on the path deemed right by their almighty judgement. Others shared their infinite wisdom and passion through writing, poetry, and painting, for the betterment of all.

And then, then, there's Kira...

"Huh! Fuck's that supposed to mean!? I'm a full-fledged, honest to God, err, God!"

I find that hard to believe. Anyway, as I was saying, Kira-

"LADY Kira!"

Yes, yes, LADY Kira has always marched to the beat of her own drum. Unshackled by concepts such as morality, nobility, duty, compassion, altrui-

"Hellooooo, god of narration? Enough slander! Leave the judging to... to whatever god's supposed to do that."

Indeed, Kira- I mean, Lady Kira, ever so utterly self-serving in comparison to most of her peers. Manipulative, avaricious, egocentric, egomaniac, ego-

"You're doing it AGAIN! Ugh..."

I wasn't implying that there's anything wrong with that, mind you. Vainglory flows through her oh so godly veins like sirupy sweet liquid from a fountain with free refills. You see, Kira holds dominion not over some extraordinary power like storms or warfare or whatever else the gods of legend may command, but rather something far, far more insidious.

Overspending (and gold digging too, I suppose).

"Damn right! Ohhh man, let me tell you, nothing beats walking out of a store with a pile of boxes stacked so high you can't even see ahead in your arms! All on someone else's dime, of course."

Despite embodying the picture of a traditional Japanese beauty since birth, it wasn't until the Shōwa era that the raven-haired goddess would take a real interest in clothing and style. But it was only with the advent of fast fashion that she became a truly insatiable monster, leaving a trail of bankruptcy and ruined lives in her wake.

You remember seeing that pair of jeans with more zeros in the price tag than fingers on one hand? Or those limited edition sneakers that would cut into your savings harder than stilettos through silk stockings? And all the while you were thinking to yourself, "Nope, not this time."? Well, Kira is the devil whispering in your ear to do it anyway. To do it for her.

"Nothing wrong with giving them that little push they need, ya know? 'Sides, I don't ask that of just anyone! Only those with potential. And the means. And the potential to acquire more means."

And that leads us to the core of the issue. Kira's, for lack of a better word, inherently parasitic nature. In truth, the goddess has never spent a single dime of her own on anything (including her followers). Hasn't worked a day in her life either. And her powers don't allow her to conjure up money out of thin air. There are no shrines or temples, no festivals or traditions, and no donation boxes. Kira drinks straight from the tap. And her faucet: the wallets and credit cards of the so called "Sisters of Kira.".

"My all-female harem of fabulous fashionable fashionistas! So eager to please. Men don't really get it in the same way. Pity, with how willing they are to spend on little ol' me. But, there's no shortage of sugar mommies in this day and age."

This "harem" Kira speaks of is, for all intents and purposes, a cult. One helmed by its very own deity, as the organisation solely exists for her benefit, be it financial, sexual, or otherwise. What about benefits for the members, you may ask. None whatsoever, despite her claims. Utterly sacrilegious, I know. Once inducted, your credit card will find itself being swiped in all manners of places by this emerald eyed demon, and suddenly, this month's wage has turned into a brand new pair of designer sunglasses. Your savings, another diamond-encrusted watch. Your house? That's a new sports car. And when there is nothing left in your bank account,

"Just get more money. I don't care how or where. Blood money, clean money, it's all the same to me."

Until there is nothing left of you.