A/N- I almost didn't publish this. After I finished this, I went back and reread the most recent chapters of the manga and realized it really doesn't align with canon at all, and as a general rule that bothers me. I like accuracy, when I can possibly achieve it. But since I stayed up until four in the morning last week writing this, I've decided, what the hell, might as well not waste the effort.

This fic is predicated on the Tsukuyomi theory that's been around longer than I've been in the fandom. For the uninitiated, it's the astonishingly plausible theory that Yato could actually be a reincarnation of Tsukuyomi, the god of the moon and brother to Amaterasu. I initially was reluctant to buy into this theory since I was very enamored of Yato being a fictional god, but as the evidence has stacked up I've had to accept that it is not just plausible but actually extremely well-supported by canon to the point that it could literally be revealed in the next chapter and I wouldn't be shocked. So this sort of grew out of that.

Like I said, it doesn't align very well with canon for a number of reasons, but hopefully it's enjoyable nonetheless.

Bishamon was not the type of person to flee from a battle, but she knew it was a fight she couldn't win… not alone, anyway. Yato's decision to ally himself with her had given her hope that perhaps, even wielding an unfamiliar shinki, even against all the host of heaven's warriors, she would be able to triumph. Yato's defection had thrown the subjugation force into chaos, and for a few moments, it had seemed that the tide of the battle was turning.

But then something shifted. When Takemikazuchi began targeting Yato, a feeling of impending catastrophe overtook her. And when, from a distance, separated by enemies, she saw Yato fall, Bishamon realized that this was a war she could not win through force. She needed time to collect herself and think things through.

The thought of leaving Yato alone and presumably incapacitated rankled, though. She tried fruitlessly to get close to him, but the press of enemies all around her was too great, and it was all she could do, even clothed in Nana's power and wielding a shinki of such legendary strength, to keep from being struck down.

She was driven back and back and back, to the point that she completely lost sight of where Yato had fallen, barely able to protect herself, let alone aid her sole ally.

"We can't fight them all," she breathed, mostly to herself, but Nana responded.

"Yes we can!" she snarled. "We have to!"

Bishamon shook her head, vividly aware of the place where her mask had cracked. Nana hadn't said anything, but she could feel how much the damage was hurting her. Despite herself, she was getting too attached to this girl, and no matter what promises she had made, she hated the thought her being wounded.

"I promised you the chance for revenge," she said, "but we accomplish nothing if we die here and now!"

She was reluctant to run herself, but she was shocked by the strength of Nana's reaction to the thought. "You'd abandon your comrade?" she roared. "You're no better than any of them!" Her fury at the very idea was like a physical blow, and Bishamon staggered sideways, barely managing to avoid a vicious uppercut from a shinki being wielded someone she was pretty sure was Hachiman. Nana's rage was potent, and compounded by feelings Bishamon could barely interpret, and their already clumsy compatibility was fraying.

"Do you think I want to?" she hissed back, surprised to find she meant that. The shape of her relationship to Yato had changed so dramatically in such a short time. Untangling how she felt about his rebellion— a rebellion for her sake— was something she didn't have time for right now, though.

As she whirled to block another strike, she was dismayed to discover that Nana's blade had gone dull. "Yato has a hafuri vessel strong enough to rival even your power," she snapped, dancing back out of range of her assailant's reach. "Yukine-kun will not let his master be slain. I have absolute faith in that."

"You're horrible," Nana muttered, but there was resignation in her voice.

With a heavy heart, Bishamon turned and, borrowing once more the incredible power of the Hafuru-mono, fled across the skies of Tokyo faster than even Heaven's subjugation force could hope to follow.

They took refuge at Kofuku's little house. It was, somehow, the first place Bishamon thought to go, and the last place she felt anyone would look for her. Kofuku, to her intense gratitude, was home when they arrived. She had been afraid that the poverty goddess might still be in the heavens; there was no telling just how badly her actions had disrupted Kamuhakari, and she didn't know what she would have done if the house had been empty.

But Kofuku almost seemed to be waiting for her. She was standing just inside the doorway when Bishamon stumbled down the garden path.

"Who is that you're wearing?" Kofuku asked instead of a greeting, standing aside to allow them past.

Bishamon sighed. "The Hafuru-mono," she said tiredly, choosing to ignore Kofuku's horrified gasp and a wordless exclamation of alarm from Daikoku, who stood behind his master.

"Bisha," Kofuku breathed. "You didn't."

"I had to."

Daikoku made a noise in his throat halfway between a hum and a growl. "We heard the heavens were gunning for you, but we never imagined anything like this!"

Bishamon nodded. "We won't be able to stay here long, but I'm grateful for even a few minutes to rest."

Kofuku bobbed her head with a jittery, concerned enthusiasm. "We'll do whatever we can to help," she promised.

Until recently, Bishamon had considered Kofuku a very casual friend, more of an acquaintance than anything, but in the last few months, there had been a shift in their friendship. She didn't think she had ever appreciated the other goddess's warm heart more.

"Thank you," she said softly. "Nana, revert!"

The garment and sword melted away in a flash of light, reforming into the young girl in ragged clothes, who collapsed to her knees. Bishamon was left her white dress, and she winced as she saw that her shinki was covered in injuries. None of them appeared severe, but the damage she had received during the battle was clear. Despite the physical pain she could sense in the girl, it was nothing compared to the wash of emotional turmoil that rushed across their bond as Nana scrambled backwards as quickly as her injuries would allow, glaring viciously at her.

"How dare you?" she snarled. "How could you just leave him behind like that? He turned on heaven for you! He put himself in danger for you, and you just left him! He was hurt, and you abandoned him!"

Disregarding a squeak of alarm from Kofuku, Bishamon met her shinki's wild eyes steadily. "I don't like it any more than you do, but it was run or be killed," she said, voice even despite the trembling she could feel starting in her knees, "and I refuse to die until I have brought justice down on the sorcerer."

"It would serve you right if you did," Nana snapped back. "Personally, I think he's got the right idea."

"You would think that," she muttered under her breath. Raising her voice to more normal levels, she said, "I am absolutely certain that the Yato god will survive this conflict. He is stubborn beyond all reason, and has a hafuri of exceptional talent to guard him."

Kofuku gasped again. "Oh no," she moaned. "Please… Yato didn't… he didn't turn against heaven?" Her voice was pleading.

Bishamon sighed. "I don't know what he was thinking," she said. "He's a fool. A very brave fool, but he had to know…" She broke off, shaking her head. Yato had known perfectly well that her aim was to kill his own father, but he had still sided with her against all reason.

"What the hell happened?" Daikoku demanded.

"It's a bit of a long story," Bishamon said flatly. She was not interested in discussing the details. They could be traced here at any time, and every moment was precious. "Please, Kofuku-dono, as you can see, Nana is injured. May I have supplies to tend to her wounds?"

"Of course!" Kofuku exclaimed. "I'll get bandages and—"

"I don't want you touching me," Nana interrupted, still glaring viciously at her. The strength of her turbulent emotions was almost enough to make Bishamon's legs give out. "You didn't protect a friend! You're no better than—" Her voice cracked unexpectedly, and her large dark eyes went bright. "—no better than me," she finished weakly.

Kofuku exchanged one harried glance with her shinki before hurrying to Nana's side. "Come with me," she said, in a tone more gentle than Bishamon could ever recall her using. "I'll help you get cleaned up."

Nana had broken eye contact with her master, and she nodded, allowing the petite goddess to help her to her feet and lead her out in the direction of the kitchen.

The moment they were out of sight, Bishamon crumpled to the floor, leaning heavily against the kotatsu to keep from completely collapsing onto the ground. Nana's discordant state of mind was heavily affecting her, and she could vaguely feel echoes of deep distress from several of her other shinki— Kazuma in particular— that was leaving her dizzy.

"Here," Daikoku said gruffly, offering a hand to help her shift into a more comfortable seat on a zabuton. Bishamon accepted his help gratefully, pulling her skirt up above her knees so that she could move more easily.

"Do you have any injuries?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I'm just feeling her distress," she said.

Daikoku settled down across the table. He was silent for several moments before saying, "Did Yato really turn against heaven for you?"

"Yes."

He appeared to be resisting the urge to smash something. "What an idiot," he growled.

"My thoughts exactly," Bishamon said. "I don't know what on earth he was thinking. But… I appreciate it."

"Is he alright?" Daikoku asked. "She made it seem like you guys just bailed on him…"

Bishamon could only shrug, feeling more helpless than she would ever admit to. "I couldn't get back to him. There were too many even for me. Last I saw, Takemikazuchi was attacking him."

Daikoku swore loudly. "That bastard's got it out for Yato; he's so bitter that Yato's got a hafuri vessel and he doesn't…"

"It's the very fact that he has such a shinki that I'm sure Yato will be alright," she said firmly.

"Are you saying that because you really believe it, or because you feel guilty?" Daikoku asked.

It was a bold question for a shinki to ask of another god, but Daikoku could, very occasionally, be just as fearless as his master. In this particular instance, Bishamon didn't even really mind.

"I have to believe it," she said. "It's the only thing keeping me from running right back there with no shinki at all." It was a quiet admission, spoken with eyes staring thoughtfully into the distance.

"He can't reincarnate, you know," Daikoku said. "Hiyori-chan's his only follower. I don't think even her wishing would bring him back if he's killed."

She knew that, but hearing it said so baldly amplified the guilt she felt at getting him caught up in her mess. "Yukine will protect him," she said, more firmly. Yukine was gifted enough that he might even rival Kazuma. Perhaps. Once he had a century or two more experience. Possibly. But even as young and inexperienced as he was, he was still strong enough to defend his master.

After a moment, Bishamon continued, "I didn't expect Nana to react like that to leaving him behind."

"Well of course she did!" Daikoku said, sounding surprised. "She's the Hafuru-mono."

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

He looked very grave. "What do you actually know about her?" he asked.

"I know that she struck Amaterasu, herself, and that she was imprisoned because she was too powerful for even the gods to kill," she said, listing off the things Iwami had told her, "and she… she committed another sin, correct? She failed to protect her master."

Daikoku still had that grim look on his face, and Bishamon suddenly realized how limited that information really was. Confronted with the reality of the near-feral girl whose wounds were even now being tended in the other room, her knowledge of the past was pitifully inadequate.

"What on earth happened back then?" she asked quietly.

The tall shinki's shoulders were hunched forward uncomfortably, hands folded together tightly as he rested his forearms on the top of the kotatsu. He stared intently at the tabletop, before saying, in a carefully neutral voice, "The Hafuru-mono served a god who was exiled from heaven very early on. When heaven went to war against the Emishi, he sided with them. I don't really know the details, but during one of the battles, she— as you put it— failed to protect him, and he was killed. He didn't reincarnate." Daikoku's frown deepened. "I imagine guilt over that betrayal is what drove her to start a war of her own against heaven. Even after the Emishi were subjugated, she kept fighting alone. No one really understands why she's so powerful, but you're right that she was impossible to destroy. She cut down dozens upon dozens of gods, and nearly forced Amaterasu-sama to reincarnate before she could be subdued."

"And so she was stripped of her name and imprisoned for good," Bishamon murmured.

"Yeah."

"That's sad."

"It is." Something about the story still bothered her, however. "Who was this god she betrayed?"

Daikoku raised his head to meet her gaze. "The younger brother of the Queen of Heaven," he said bluntly.

A soft gasp escaped her lips before she could silence herself. "The moon god?" she whispered. "Amaterasu-sama's twin? I didn't know he… I didn't know he was real."

"What, you thought all the stories were just made up? I know you're an imported god and all, but I'd have thought you'd at least know about this," he asked, tone just barely short of derisive. "Yeah, he existed. Or so I've heard. This was all way before my lady named me. But Kofuku can be one hell of a gossip, so I heard all about it."

She frowned. "You said he didn't reincarnate. Why not?"

Daikoku shrugged. "Bit of a mystery. He had followers— still does, actually, and several shrines— but after he died, the next incarnation just never appeared. And all of his shinki except for the Hafuru-mono vanished as well. The war against the Emishi was brutal, I hear, so however it was that he was killed… well, like I said, no one knows. The moon went dark for a long time, and it only shines now because Amaterasu sometimes turns her face toward it. I've never met her, but I figure even if she cast him out long before he died, she must miss him."

It was a sad story, but it didn't make sense. As long as a god's name still existed, as long as wishes and prayers were still offered, a god should always reincarnate.

"A mystery indeed…" she murmured.

Time seemed to pass strangely. Daikoku did not speak again except to offer her food, which she declined, and Bishamon had too much on her mind for conversation, so the only sound was the indistinct voices of Kofuku and Nana in the other room. Her head was in a whirl, and she could not seem to settle her thoughts. Her mind flitted from the sorcerer to Yato and back again, and despite her preoccupation with those two, her thoughts also strayed back to Nana and the master she had betrayed. She had heard the of the moon god, but it had always been a passing mention, and speakers usually clammed up immediately afterwards, as if even the name were taboo.

Her thoughts circled around this lost god only to return back to the sorcerer moments later. It felt as though hours passed, but when she glanced at the clock, it had only been minutes, and sometimes her thoughts would trail away for what felt like moments, and when she looked up, three-quarters of an hour had vanished.

She could feel that Nana's physical pain had eased, but neither she nor Kofuku returned from the other room. Perhaps, she thought, that's for the best. Her shinki did not seem best-pleased with her, and she had been given too much to think on that pertained to Nana to be able to meet her eyes with ease just yet.

A feeling of waiting seemed to settle over the house, and Bishamon got the sense that all of them were waiting for word of what had happened to Yato. But as the late afternoon was fading towards evening, she began to contemplate the fact that, whether he was alright or not, she could not linger here much longer.

Just as she was about to speak up on the subject, however, the sound of footsteps on gravel outside called her to attention. She was immediately on high alert, prepared to fight again, or to run if necessary—

But there was no need. A few moments later, Yukine and Hiyori Iki came into view, supporting Yato between them with one of his arms over each of their shoulders. He was very pale and clearly could barely walk even with their support, but he was alive and appeared to be more or less lucid. The relief that filled her was unanticipated in its strength.

"Bishamonten-san!" Hiyori exclaimed as she caught sight of her. "You're okay!"

The human girl's obvious relief at seeing her safe made her badly-repressed guilt stronger. "How is Yato?" she asked, getting to her feet and feeling relieved that her knees were no longer quite so wobbly.

"'m alright," the god mumbled before either of his companions could speak. "How're you?"

"I'm just fine," she said briskly. "Yato… I don't know what to say. I'm sorry, I—"

"S'fine," he said, flopping one hand and nearly slipping free of Yukine's grip in the process. "Glad you're okay."

"Ebisu-san's bought both of you pardons," Hiyori said. "The message to call off the attack came just after you escaped, but it took so long for the other gods to convince Takemikazuchi to leave…" She shook her head in dismay.

"Daikoku-san, is it alright that we've brought him here?" Yukine asked. "Even though he's been pardoned, I didn't think it would be smart to take him back to Takamagahara just yet. I mean, we don't even have an actual house or anything…"

"It's fine," Kofuku said before Daikoku could speak. She stood in the doorway, Nana just visible behind her. "Yato-chan, where are you hurt? Can you—?"

Kofuku was interrupted by a strangled cry. She had stepped forward towards the three standing in the doorway, but as she moved out of the way, Nana had gotten a clear view of them, and Bishamon could feel waves of absolute shock rolling down their bond.

Everyone turned to look at the Hafuru-mono, who stood stock still for several seconds, white-faced and staring fixedly at Yato.

"Y-you," she whispered, and then she was flying across the small room. She collapsed at Yato's feet, staring up at him. "You look younger."

Yato looked down at her blearily. "Huh?" he asked. Everyone else in the room seemed to be frozen, curiosity and surprise holding them silent.

"I didn't see you clearly earlier," she said. "Forgive me for not recognizing you. I should've known. I'm so sorry, I should've known." Bishamon saw that Nana had tears in her eyes once more.

"What're you talking about?" he asked.

"Aya-sa—" Nana choked herself off, shaking her head. "No, I don't have the right to call you that anymore. I'm sorry. Forgive me."

Yato glanced between Yukine and Hiyori, who both looked as confused as the rest of them. "Hey, lemme down," he said urgently. Carefully, they helped him kneel down in front of Nana, and he winced as the motion seemed to pain him.

"What are you apologizing for?" he asked, in the gentlest tone of voice Bishamon had ever heard from him. She had seen many new sides to the Yato god this past year, but she hadn't realized he was capable of being soft and quiet like this.

Nana seemed to feel compelled to be lower than him, for as he knelt down, she prostrated herself before him, forehead to the floor. "For everything," she cried. "Tsukuyomi-sama, I'm so sorry, everything was my fault. Please, I know you must not remember, but please, I'm so sorry—"

The air in the room seemed to suddenly be highly charged, and Bishamon wondered if everyone else, like herself, was frozen where they stood. The name Nana had used was ringing in her ears. Tsukuyomi. The god of the moon. The lost twin of Amaterasu. The name that few in heaven would mention in polite company. Surely Nana was confused, had simply made some mistake. She must have.

"What?" Yato looked nonplussed. "I think you must have me confused with someone el—"

"No!" Nana said fiercely, tilting her head to stare up at him intently, though she did not rise from her position on the floor. "I would know your eyes anywhere! They said you hadn't reincarnated, but I always… I always knew, deep down… you couldn't possibly be gone… Tsukuyomi-sama, I'm so sorry…" Her tears overflowed, and her hands balled into white-knuckled fists against the floor as she dropped her head once more.

Hiyori and Yukine looked totally lost, but Kofuku and Daikoku both turned to look at Bishamon.

"Did she just call him—?" Daikoku asked.

"I think she did," Kofuku said, lilac eyes huge.

Yato, for his part, looked alarmed and just as confused as everyone else. "Hey. Hey, don't cry." He reached out and patted Nana's head, apparently the most comforting gesture he could manage in his afflicted state. "Hey, listen, sit up, will you?"

With some effort, Nana pushed herself up from the floor. She was so small that even with both of them kneeling, her head barely reached Yato's chin.

"Why are you calling me Tsukuyomi?" he asked. "I'm Yato. Just Yato." Bishamon wasn't certain whether the pained look on his face was because of his injuries or from some kind of emotional turmoil.

Nana shook her head fiercely. "No. No. I know you. Before… when I served you… you looked older. Middle-aged. But I would recognize you anywhere. No one has eyes like yours. No one."

"Tsukuyomi…" Hiyori was staring down at Yato, a mixture of confusion and wonder on her face. "As in the moon god?"

"But the moon god's dead!" Yukine protested. "Kazuma said so!"

But Kofuku was shaking her head. "Hiyorin, Yukine… do you remember that goddess who appeared to tell us how to save Yato from the underworld?"

Hiyori's head snapped up, staring at the poverty goddess with wide eyes. "Yes?" she ventured.

"Wait, what goddess?" Yato asked. "What are you talking about?"

"It was Amaterasu," Kofuku informed them, in a tone that was somehow both reverent and matter-of-fact.

"WHAT?!" Hiyori, Yukine, and Daikoku cried simultaneously.

"You've got to be kidding," Daikoku added.

Kofuku shook her head. "I didn't want to say anything at the time, but it absolutely was her."

"But she was so small!" Yukine protested.

"Like you're one to talk," Daikoku muttered, earning himself an annoyed glare from the boy.

Yato sat in the middle of it all, looking for all the world like a lost child, and Nana sat beside him. She had eyes for nothing but him, seeming to drink in every aspect of him.

Hiyori, meanwhile, had a thoughtful look on her face. "Kofuku… that goddess… A-Amaterasu-sama… she said… she said we had to call Yato's true name. She said calling him by his true name would make him happy. But Yato doesn't like the name Yaboku. He hates it. So…"

"So you're saying that Yato had another name all along, and Her Majesty knew it," Daikoku finished for her.

Looking as pale as Yato, Hiyori nodded.

"That would explain how he managed to survive for so long without a shrine or followers," Kofuku added.

"No…" Yato said, sounding just as lost and confused as he looked. "No, it's because Father— I'm not… I can't be…"

"You are," Nana said. "I don't understand how you don't know, but I do. I know you. I know you."

"Are you trying to tell me," Daikoku said, sounding monstrously disgruntled, "that this idiot has been a big important god this whole time and has been crashing in our upstairs room rent-free for months?"

Nana hissed at him.

Bishamon couldn't so much as move. There was such an emotional firestorm radiating from Nana that she thought she might combust if she did anything other than stand there in amazement. Yato, the god of calamity she had hated… Yato, the reluctant friend she had begrudgingly accepted… Yato, her unexpected ally… he couldn't possibly be the reincarnation of a legend that, up until today, she had genuinely believed was nothing more than that: a legend.

Yato looked at her over the top of Nana's head. His eyes, wide and the vivid, complex blue of a clear afternoon sky, met hers, seeming to expect a contradiction from her.

Slowly, she shook her head. "If Kofuku is telling the truth about Amaterasu's appearance— and I have no reason to think she would lie— then I have to suppose it's entirely possible that you are."

Bishamon wasn't sure whether it was the shock or his injuries catching up with him, but Yato promptly fainted. Nana caught him before he could flop forward onto the floor.

Silence descended for several long seconds as the rest of them stared around at each other.

"Well," Bishamon said finally, feeling compelled to break the silence, "this just made everything very, very complicated."