And I'm tryin' t'save us all from a poltergeist, sugar. [ Meaning that, of course, his cause is greater, pure, and true—what's more, he is perfectly justified in perching himself atop the armrest of her chair as he anoints her with sacred smoke. Heads up: it may or may not be getting entirely unbearable and stuffy beneath that hat. ] Besides, we can't have everything we want in life-- ain't the slightest bit of fun in that.

[ Waving the smudge-stick with a turn of his wrist, he creates elegant lines, weaving plumes of smoke which hover over the both of them, and what's this? Benten's voice oddly solemn, reverent as he speaks, each and every word accented with a the rustle of the sage leaves in his hands. ]

Just as a mother would protect her only child with her life, let her radiate boundless love toward the entire world, above, below, and across, unhindered and without ill will, without enmity.

[ And without further ado, Benten finds room enough (and it helps that his frame is so lithe, entirely bird-boned) to slink in between the armrest and Amaterasu herself, the hard angles of his body pressing to her curves. ]

This is my blessing for you.