There were contrasting names inscribed onto his chest.
Yuki. Yukine. Setsu.
Hi. Kaji. Hotaru.
He was born out of destruction, a weapon made to rend monstrous emotions. He was remade out of the throes of desperation, a friend where none could be found.
Yato, the War God, who dreamed of his own shrine and who's devotion Yukine both scorned and adored. Hiyori, the Newly Turned, who loved him like a little brother and who believed in him despite his impurities.
(And, oh, were there many.)
Two purposes. Two Gods.
Multiple looks of disgust.
The regalia, who simultaneously burned and chilled, found that he didn't mind. After all, he only understood one word when his Gods called out for him.
Family.