You Search for Your Answers

By: Aviantei

[Twelve Shots of Summer: Gotta Write 'Em All! 1-11A]

A Noragami One Shot


You meet the Yato God when you are born again, one of the first people you see. He's a minor god, but that doesn't matter—he smiles, with a wide grin that can't quite cover up the sadness in his eyes. He takes the hand of your child form and sneaks you out to dinner, a promise he made to the former you.

"I promise I made to you," Yato says, and you nod, not sure of what else to do.


"What was the me before like?" You have a number of regalias, and they have answered all your questions beforehand. Your duties, why you've reincarnated, things before. Most of them treat you like a child, but still with respect. This question, however, receives just a variety of answers.

Determined.

Strong.

Amazing.

Most of them are vague answers. You try and get more concrete answers, but there's some hesitance. No one seems to want to talk about your past life. You suppose, if you really wanted to, you could order them to answer, but you don't do it. If they don't want to say, do you really want to know?

The Yato God doesn't visit you again.


Gods age differently than humans, but that may also be due to their longevity. In any event, after what feels like a blink of the eye to you, your child form has given way to that of a teenage boy. You're much more steady on your own, even if you do have people watching your moves, as if whatever you did in your past life is going to come back and cause trouble.

Heading to the Near Shore is easy enough for you, though, so you go to find him.

The city is large, though you don't have much of a memory to compare it to. Grey buildings reach up towards the sky, concrete and pavement is under your every footfall, and people bustle no matter where you go. You worry that finding him might be difficult.

But within an hour as you take a break to a quiet spot beneath a bridge to rest yourself, you find a name and phone number spray painted on the wall, advertising the services of the Yato God.

You snort. It can't really be that easy, can it?

But sure enough, you call the number, and a familiar voice, at least a few levels more cheerful than usual answers.

"It's Ebisu," you say, hearing the gasp of hesitation on the other end. "Could I request a meeting?"


You end up at the same restaurant you went to before, with its quaint décor and quiet atmosphere. You both sit at the counter, and even though you're not facing each other, Yato keeps flashing glances to you, amazement in his bright blue eyes. Though you have the same waitress as before, she doesn't pay any notice to the fact that your body has aged about ten years. The thought wouldn't even cross her mind.

It does cross Yato's it seems, since once you've placed your orders he says, "You've grown."

You sit with your back straight, hands cupped around your mug of tea. "I suppose." It's a strange sensation, but you don't feel much older. Maybe it's the knowledge of just how much older your existence is in comparison. "I wanted to ask about the previous Ebisu."

Yato stops right in the middle of raising his glass of soda to his lips. The curiosity has given way to that sadness again. You don't like it. "I can understand why you'd want to know, but…" You don't give in, keeping your expression even. "Alright, alright, I can tell you. I'm just not sure you'll like what you hear."

Your own curiosity piques up. This isn't something any of your Regalia have come close to talking about. "That's the problem, Yato God," you say, all too aware of how much your voice still sounds like the child whose form you haven't fully abandoned. "Everyone only seems to think they should tell me what I want to hear. I want to know the truth. And I trust that you'll tell me it." Some deep part of you that seems that it stretches into your past tells you that.

Feeling like you've said too much, you sip at your still hot tea. The taste doesn't compare to what you have back home in the Far Shore, but it's more than passable. Yato watches you for a second, and, in your peripheral, you can see a soft smile form on his face.

"Well, I'm not the best storyteller," Yato says, "but I'll do in a pinch." He adjusts himself in his seat and turns so he's facing you, one elbow propped on the counter. "I only knew of you before recently, so I'll just tell you about what happened when we actually talked to each other…"

And you listen, even when you hear of your former self's mistakes, because from the way Yato tells it, you understand that there's still room for you to move on.


[Author's Notes]

This one shot suffers from a severe case of "I started this years ago not knowing how I wanted to end it so I had to make it up now." In particular, I started this shortly after finishing season two of the anime, so it's super not manga canon. Oh, well.

This was written as part of the [Twelve Shots of Summer: Gotta Write 'Em All!] challenge, where I've attempted to fulfill all five year's worth of T-Sauce prompts. This piece fulfills my missing original week eleven prompt, "On Distant Shores," which seemed like a good enough excuse to write about Noragami to me and poke at Ebisu and Yato's relationship. In second person, no less.

If you want to read more summer one shots, do check out the [Twelve Shots of Summer] forum and C2 for a great summer challenge. Even though we're in the endgame here, there's always room for new company. Hopefully you stop on by!

Thanks for reading!

-Aviantei

[08.06.2018]