Fashion in the Local Style, Weekly Short-Short Note Hidden Prompt, 409 Characters

In October, I arrived in Izumo. It was Kamiarizuki, the month when the gods are said to gather.

I was looking for clothes that would blend in with the land.
"When in Rome, do as the Romans do."
That is the golden rule of travel fashion. However, the people in the town were dressed plainly. I thought it was the familiar conservatism of a rural area.

I entered an old, dilapidated thrift store standing alone in a back alley behind the station, and in the shop filled with the scent of dust, I asked the owner.
"Do you have any clothes that are typical of Izumo?"

"This is the local fashion," the owner said, handing me a garment.

I bought it, changed into it right there, and left the shop.
In the alley, a child pressed their hands together in prayer toward me. An old man yielded the path to me. I did not see my reflection in the cafe window. When I returned to my inn and looked in the mirror, my face was slowly blurring. I was not in the photos I had supposedly uploaded to social media.

When I tried to take the clothes off, they clung to my skin and would not peel away.

Deep within the shrine grounds, I stood before an empty worship hall. There, others dressed just like me were standing in a quiet line.
There was no longer any place for me to return to. I finally understood the meaning of following the local ways in the land of Izumo.

I had already become a god.