notes:
+ this fic is the clean version that complies with FFN's guidelines. for the original version, google pseudocitrus archive of our own and see the story by the same name.
+ i tried my hardest to get this done by actual valentine's day but unfortunately was too busy ;(
+ anyway, HAPPY BELATED VALENTINE'S DAY! let me know if you like or it find errors, & enjoy! (◡‿◡✿)
Ordinary High School Life
"Hey, Hiyori. Is there anyone you'd do it for?"
"Wh — what?" For one horrified moment, Hiyori thought they'd somehow been reading her mind — but then Yama-chan repeated herself.
"I said, is there anyone you'd do it for? You know," Yama-chan said in exasperation, "make cookies or chocolate or something. For Valentine's day! Are you about to fall asleep or something?"
"No! I mean — yeah — I was about to fall asleep. And about the cookies...well, no. Probably? I don't know," Hiyori said helplessly. Did gods celebrate modern holidays like Valentine's? And even if they did, would Yato appreciate something like cookies? In her mind she saw him curled around that huge dark bottle he had, lovingly caressing his meager horde of five yen coins.
What a lucky bottle, she found herself thinking, and sighed, watching an ayakashi buzz around Yama-chan's ear as she wrung her hands about what to do about her boyfriend. The school had been swarming with ayakashi recently, minuscule ones that barely came near humans but hovered and buzzed. They clotting the air around ears and tight shoulders and sideways gazes, swooning in nervous swallows and clenched fists.
"You need to do something about it," Hiyori had told Yato a week ago when they the ayakashi had first started appearing. But he had only rolled his eyes.
"Small fry like that aren't worth worrying about. Of course, I would do it, if someone requested," he said, rubbing his thumb and index finger pointedly. Money.
"People are that worried about Valentine's Day, huh," Yukine murmured. He pursed his lips, tapping the bottom of his pencil against the most recent homework Hiyori had assigned to him. "Lucky."
Lucky isn't the word for it! she wanted to snap.
"What's the problem anyway? It's not like they're causing the students any trouble," Yato said, and then leaned forward, brows raised. "Right?"
"No," Hiyori admitted reluctantly. They're weren't causing students trouble — but they were bothering her. As if it wasn't enough to see people's hands intertwining already in the hallways before Valentine's day had even come. She'd even (quite unfortunately) run into two people entangled in the storage room as she'd been putting sports equipment away. All of these things would have been completely tolerable if not for the ayakashi everywhere murmuring. "Good smell, good smell..."
The chanting lulled her in class. Good smell, good smell, good smell. Yeah, it was a good smell. She'd never smelled it on any human boy she'd encountered — a fragrance that curled itself around her, elusive as a stray cat. Even now in her human body, with no one but Yama-chan and Ami-chan beside her, Hiyori imagined she could smell that smell and her chest tingled. The smell of his shoulders as he carried her, the scent of his solid weight against her — was that the smell of his clothing, or his bare skin? What would it be like if it wasn't just his smell, but his whole body wrapped all around her? What would it smell like if his face was right before hers, if her mouth —
"She's out," Ami-chan sighed, and Hiyori looked down and grimaced as she saw Ami-chan prodding her body's forehead. Her head lolled.
"She looks pretty happy," Yama-chan laughed, tugging at Hiyori's body's drooling, grinning mouth. "I wonder what she's thinking about?"
Hiyori buried her face in her hands and was glad no one could see her.
:::
Her friends carried her into the nurse's office and as they left Hiyori gratefully batted at the ayakashi hovering around them. Then, she waited for her spirit to stick back into her body, dangling her spirit hand into her physical one until her fingernails began to stick together. By the time she managed to get her whole body in, school had been over for an hour, and Hiyori sat up with a sigh and rubbed her arms. Recently, returning to her body was like slipping into a sleeping bag whose insides were lined with static. Her body felt especially prickly today, and she rubbed her arms, trying to dispel the feeling.
She really needed to get Yato to fix her. And yet, being able to leave her body was so convenient sometimes, especially if she wanted to visit Yato and Yukine. Would it be as easy to see them if she was normal? Would she have as much reason?
She passed by a bakery, and paused, and approached, squinting through the sunset light glaring on the window. Inside were a variety of heart-shaped cookies. Tenjin's words crept into her mind. Enjoy your high school days. Enjoy your youth. Enjoy the silly things that made up an ordinary teenage life nowadays. Her mittens fisted.
Were gods really so different? Would she really not be able to enjoy those things with Yato?
She sighed, inhaling deeply. The bakery had a good smell. She checked the amount of money she had in her purse, and entered the store.
:::
Hiyori hadn't been visiting since she had asked them about the little ayakashi, and she hadn't tweeted anything for nearly a week. The last thing she had said was a couple days ago, at 12:11, which read, "Valentine's day already?! （・□・；）"
His thumb waggled. 12:11. 12:11. 12:11. 12 —
"Just visit her already!" Yukine shouted, "jeez, I can't stand watching a god be this pathetic," and Yato glared.
"Fine! If it bothers you so much I guess I'll just have to," he huffed, and in a instant he was stepping foot in Hiyori's school, which was, as Hiyori had said, filled with ayakashi. His nose wrinkled in distaste.
What he accept them?
Will she give them to me?
Does he even like chocolate? I can't remember —
Maybe I shouldn't bother —
What if it turns out like last year —
Fuck all of them, seriously! I can't wait for this stupid holiday to be over!
Yato sighed. Valentine's day. He swatted at the ayakashi as he searched with a sleeved fist, watching them flee with satisfaction.
"Good smell!" they wailed as he sent them careening, "Nice smeeeellll!"
Humans. He was surprised none of them had called him yet to assist their deliveries or general loneliness, and he made a stop in the girl's bathroom to make sure his phone number was still there. It was, though it had faded somewhat. He reached into his pocket for a marker — then stopped, and continued on.
He didn't particularly care to have just anybody call on him at the moment. He just wasn't in the mood for it. And anyway, where was Hiyori? Was she getting all caught up in this ridiculous Valentine stuff too? She hadn't answered when Yukine asked her the other day if she had any gifts planned. Just what was she thinking?
He dipped his head into classrooms with growing irritation, glancing every once in a while in his phone.
Hiyo: WHERE ARE YOU?! ヽ(●-`Д´-)ノ
What if she wasn't even in school? It was near the end of the day. He glanced out the window. What if she had already left with her friends...was talking with her friends about the cookies they had handed out that day...
Ahh, this was getting annoying, really annoying. He reached the nurse's office, shoving aside the curtain covering a bed so hard that the curtain holder rings rattled and shrieked. The ayakashi hanging there fled with little shrieks. "Good smeelll!"
"Finally!" he said, irritated and relieved. She was in the nurse's office the whole time — lying on a bed here, wearing both her uniform and coat. "There you are. Why haven't you been answering anything?!"
"Good smell," the ayakashi murmured, peeking at Hiyori's body curiously. "Good."
She was sleeping, he realized. "Hiyori?" he called, and shook her shoulder, to no effect. Her soul wasn't here. Not only that, but her body hadn't fallen into its usual blissful-looking sleep, mouth open in a drooling grin. Her brows were furrowed, her fingers tightly curled.
Cold gripped him by the sternum. Did something happen to her?
"Good smell," he heard beside his ear, and he whipped around, shouting, "That's it, I've had enough of all of you," but the punch he aimed at the ayakashi behind him landed only on air. There was only a shadow where it had been, and he looked up in confusion. It had been surprisingly large — where —
"Good smell," he heard again, and this time some quality of the voice resonated down his spine with shocking sweetness. Something soft rested on his shoulders. He turned his head and saw slim, human fingers; and felt, against his cheek, something warm. His hairs stood as a sigh filled his ear, languorous, swollen with pleasure. He felt her bangs brushing his cheek, which was quickly turning red.
"H-Hiyori?!"
"Yato," she sighed. Her eyes were hooded; and then they widened. "Y…Yato?! "
"Uh," he tried, "w-what are you — doing?"
"What do you mean, what am I doing, what are you — ahh! Get out of here!"
"You're still holding me," he pointed out, "actually, it's starting to hurt a little," and Hiyori shoved him away and looked at her hands as if they were on fire.
"It's okay," Yato said brightly, "don't be embarrassed, I know I smell pretty good so it's not like you told me something new," and Hiyori gave him a horrified look and vanished. Yato blinked and turned around in time to see the brows of Hiyori's body furrowing even more tightly as her spirit took control of it again. When her eyes opened she saw Yato again, looking down at her, and she rolled so she was facing away from him.
"It wasn't a dream," she groaned, and putting her hands over her face. Her body felt especially prickly now. "Ahhh! I'm so embarrassed!"
"You should be!" Yato muttered, rubbing his head to cover up his own embarrassment.
"I want to die!"
"Well, you're halfway there already, aren't you?"
"Let's just forget that this ever happened," Hiyori moaned, and suddenly the bed creaked. She froze as she felt something warm on her; and then Yato grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands from her eyes. She looked up, startled, blinking fast as her eyes adjusted to the light. Yato was straddling her; he was holding her hands up.
"Don't even joke about that," he told her, and though his voice was dark Hiyori was startled to see that his face was twisted with uncovered hurt. "'Let's just forget'? Are you serious?"
"O-of course not!" Her heart was beating fast. Oh no, she'd really hurt him. Oh no, he was on top of her. Oh — "Sorry, Yato. I really didn't mean it. I'm just embarrassed. Really," she managed with a spare breath, "really embarrassed," and in fact she was turning even more and more flushed.
Yato regarded her, lips pursed. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about," he murmured, and set her hands down on the bed. He leaned forward and Hiyori's heart lunged into her throat as his head came close to hers. He pressed his nose against her bangs and inhaled deeply.
He had intended to tease her — but he misjudged — he lingered a little longer than he thought, filling his lungs with her soft fragrance, some kind of human shampoo but something else too: the fragrance of her smooth skin. His lower lip grazed her brow as he straightened.
"See?" he said, clearing his throat. He freed her hands to rub his mouth. "You smell good too. Nothing to be embarrassed about."
"R-right," Hiyori murmured, "th-thanks."
He'd been so close to her. She avoided looking at him, afraid that if she met his gaze her whole prickly body would erupt in flames. After a while Yato swallowed and, realizing he was still over her, scrambled off. Hiyori sat up, not looking at him, and they sat that way in silence until Yato cleared his throat again.
"So...did you enjoy Valentine's Day? I mean, you've been avoiding Twitter because you've been busy cooking or something, right?" he asked as casually as possible.
"Not at all," she laughed, and Yato hid his relief.
"So...you didn't make anything for anyone?"
"I didn't say that," she said, and rummaged in her jacket pocket. She fished out a clear plastic bag with a red ribbon on it and held it in front of his face, hand trembling, forcing herself to look at him.
"For you," she announced, laughing at her own gall and at his wide eyes as she shook the bag. Its contents clinked temptingly.
"Is that...a bunch of five yen coins?"
"Yup!"
"Hiyori," Yato said, mustering all his strength, "I can't accept this."
"Then why," Hiyori asked dryly, "are you holding onto it so tightly," and Yato bent his head in misery and tried to unpry his traitorous fingers from their grip around the bag.
"I really can't accept!" Yato groaned in misery, finally letting the bag go but staring at it piteously.
"Why not?" Hiyori asked. She swallowed. "Come on, it's okay, just accept it."
"You don't understand! It's — it's bad form, you know? A god's true power is in granting wishes."
"Then," Hiyori said slowly, "grant my wish, and accept it. Come on, Yato," she encouraged when he still hesitated.
"Just accepting that thing isn't a wish."
"It is! It's — it's my wish for an ordinary high school life. You know," she continued with a nervous laugh as he gave her a bewildered look. "One where you do all the things that you should do on Valentine's day. Like give gifts to — someone."
He rolled his eyes. "Is that what an ordinary high school life is?"
"Yes! Amongst other things!"
"Other things."
"Other things! Like, going to amusement parks together. Watching movies. Eating at nice restaurants. Kissing."
"...what?"
"Kissing," she repeated, very quietly.
Silence pulled taut around them again.
"Do you want me to kiss you?" Yato asked finally, and Hiyori pursed her lips. She didn't look at him, but handed him the bag of five yen coins. He took it. His mouth felt dry. He'd kissed humans before. People abandoned in schools and clubs, who managed to read his name and number through their tears. People alone in their fancy apartments, suited, idly tapping out his number from a billboard out their city view window, already drunk and tipping back more wine when he arrived.
But Hiyori was different. Somehow, she was just different. Was this — really okay? Something that a god should do? Something that a god like him should do?
But. The smell of her skin.
He held the bag of yen in his hand, tugged the ribbon loose, and took out a single coin and pocketed it.
He licked his lips, shifted around so he was facing her. She glanced over at him, apprehensive, and he took her chin in his hand and tipped it toward him.
"Close your eyes," he told her, and she did. Her cheeks were still somewhat flushed — a lovely red. He placed his lips on it, softly, just beneath her eye. She flinched slightly, not expecting it. It was unexpectedly warm. He withdrew.
Her eyes shot open.
"Th-that's it?" she said, shaky. Her breathing was already somewhat sparse and she cleared her throat.
"No," he murmured, "I have a lot of coins here, after all," and he flipped another one into his palm.
"Close your eyes," he repeated, and she did. When his lips brushed her other cheek she didn't flinch. He left a small wet spot that chilled as he exhaled. She heard the clink of another coin and as he rose over her again her nose was filled with the delicious hot smell of him. He brushed her bangs away with his fingers, and before he could kiss her forehead she tipped her head back to try to meet her mouth with his.
Her aim wasn't perfect; his mouth fell on her upper lip. They blinked at each other in surprise; then Hiyori squished her eyes shut and Yato closed his as well, and raised his hands to either side of her face. He sucked her upper lip gently, then the lower one; and when her mouth dropped open with a light sigh he tilted his head and pressed her mouth fully against hers, swallowing her next startled breath.
As good as he smelled, he tasted better — a flavor like electricity. Her muscles felt week, shivery, slippery; she didn't realize she wasn't breathing until he pulled away and she gasped air from the centimeters between them.
What now? Was that enough for her? Yato lowered his hands to his lap and waited for her to open her eyes. When they did, he felt pierced. Her eyes met his fiercely — without hesitations — without tears or fear hidden behind a drunken haze. She looked away from him briefly to the bag she'd given him, retrieved another coin, and pressed it between his loose fingers. He barely registered it before she locked her arms around his neck and pulled him down with a fighter's force onto her on the bed.
He yelped and fell unceremoniously; her fingers tangled in his hair, drawing him closer, closer. He felt his body ignite as she breathed him, tasted him. This was all he was, after all — a figment of a human's desire. And what she really desired was —
The nurse bed creaked as he adjusted himself, belly to belly against her, loosening her arms from their (increasingly suffocating) grip on his neck. He held his hands in hers and set them, knuckles down, to the bed, feeling her grip tighten as he kissed her again. As he set his weight over her once more, he felt her move beneath him, around him, easily — her breasts rising against him — her right leg bending around his waist so her ankle rested on his back and pulled him even more tightly against her. Ah, she was soft. She clutched him so tight —like she'd never let go — like she wanted him to remain with her forever.
She hooked her other knee around him and he winced.
"What's the matter?" Hiyori asked, dazedly and he grimaced.
"Nothing..." Just that the sound of her low voice and her hooded eyes and her desperate grip was making him very, very hard. He closed his eyes and focused, taking deep breaths to steady himself, and calm all the live millimeters of his body that clamored to sink into her. In, out. Innn, oouuut.
"Are you sure...this counts as something in an ordinary high school life?"
"Huh…what do you…"
"I mean...do you really want to..."
Sleep with me. The words hung in his throat. Hiyori was different. It didn't matter with anyone before; even if he messed up or something, they would just forget. But Hiyori — he wanted her to remember. And what if he couldn't fulfill her properly?
But he didn't want to admit something so…pathetic. And there was more to it than that anyway. He cleared his throat but the words stuck there uncomfortably, unbudging. He didn't want her to see him as just a god. He wanted her to see beyond it, for her to see him and keep him as —
"Yato." Her voice was a bare whisper, mostly because it was the loudest she could manage despite all the courage she was gathering. "I want to. That is — if you — if you want to?"
What human ever stopped talking about their own wishes to ask what he wanted? Something in his chest trembled. "Yeah," he murmured, "I do," and without further ado Hiyori rolled her hands out from his grip and tugged down the zipper on the front of his jersey. He sighed as her hands moved beneath his shirt and pressed against his skin, and without further hesitations he laid his hands on her as well — lying down against her body again — hands sliding beneath her uniform.
:::
Some time later, Yato adjusted his clothes with trembling fingers and stumbled back to the bed, sitting heavily and making the bed creak.
The nurse heard it. "Ah — Iki-san? You're awake?" the nurse called, and Hiyori forced herself to sit up and smile, though she was still blinking with disorientation.
"Ah — y-y-yes! I guess I am awake!"
"My goodness, you're so red. Do you think you have a fever?"
Yato sputtered a laugh and Hiyori kicked him. The nurse jumped at her sudden movement and Hiyori pretended to be stretching out both her legs.
"Uh — you think I look red? I — don't feel particularly warm, so — I think I'm fine —"
"And what are all these coins doing here?" the nurse asked in confusion, and Hiyori quickly scooped the coins scattered all over the bed into her hand. Yato's laughter increased.
"Oh, my — my wallet must have just opened and spilled everywhere — it's fine!"
"You're obviously breathless," the nurse said anxiously, and Yato's laughter was so strong now that he was crying and holding his stomach helplessly as he cackled, and Hiyori ignored him as she spent long minutes placating the nurse and apologizing and making sure her coat was covering her chest.
Finally, she was allowed to leave the office in peace, and Yato followed, wiping tears from his eyes. They started walking to Hiyori's house, side by side, sobering up.
"So," Yato said finally, as calmly as possible, "did I grant your wish properly?"
"Hmm." Hiyori considered. "I think so."
"You think?"
"Okay," she admitted, "you did," and tried not to laugh when he gave a quiet sigh of relief.
"So," Yato continued after another while, "does that mean you've had your fill of ordinary high school life?"
Hiyori laughed. "Does it look like it?" She held up what remained of her Valentine's gift. There were still a fair number of coins left, and they chimed brightly.