Yato had never felt at ease in Bishamon's palace. It was a lovely place, stately and welcoming, full of the same maternal warmth as the goddess herself—a warmth that she had never directed toward him. Even after years of tentative peace, he could only feel its beauty from an outsider's perspective.

Whatever. He wasn't here for love and acceptance. Actually, he wasn't entirely sure what Bishamon had summoned him for; he suspected that this visit was going to be about something inconvenient, and she had made the invitation vague to prevent him from declining from the start. But it wasn't as if he had anything more important to do; so he allowed himself to be led into Bishamon's parlor by a smiling shinki, ready to grudgingly accept whatever task she had in mind for him.

She let him help himself to the sake on the table between them before speaking. He could feel her eyes on him, trying to find evidence in his appearance of how he had spent the last decade; he considered returning the gaze boldly, daring her to look away first, but settled for paying attention to his drink with what he hoped was an air of indifference.

"How are you doing?"

Yato frowned. Formalities were unusual for Bishamon. "Fine. I've been busy." A lie, but a plausible one, considering his absence. "You?"

"Fine," she echoed awkwardly, evidently as unused to responding to small talk as asking. She leaned forward to pour herself a drink of her own.

There was another pool of silence, and then—

"I won't ask—"

"Why did you—"

—they both began, and quickly halted. Yato raised his eyebrows in amusement.

"I won't ask where you've been," Bishamon resumed, taking initiative. "It doesn't concern me, and Tenjin wasn't bothered by your absence from Takamagahara, so I can guess why anyway. But really, how are you doing?"

The implications were not lost on him, but they irritated him more than they clarified. "Why did you call me here?" he said, a bit more strongly than his first attempt at the question.

"Answer my question first. It's relevant to yours, I promise."

"I'm fine. Really. Is that so hard to believe?"

"Considering the situation, yes, it is."

He finished his cup and set it down forcefully. "There is no 'situation.' I haven't visited Hiyori Iki since I cut her ties to the far shore. I'm capable of moving on, you know."

Bishamon gazed at him again, her eyes wide and pitying.

"What?" He was on his feet. "What is it? What do you know about Hiyori that you aren't telling me? That's why I'm here, isn't it?"

He was on her side of the table now, aware that he was doing a terrible job of proving that he had moved on, too impassioned to care. Bishamon paused for what felt like ages, and Yato was about to demand an answer again when she stood up, bringing their eyes level.

"When you left, I allowed Kazuma to check on her and see how she was doing—"

"And?"

"—and to make sure you weren't hiding away with her, shirking your responsibilities as a god—"

"—which I obviously wasn't—"

"—and everything was normal. She was studying to become a doctor, like her parents."

"That's it?"

"I thought you'd be happy to hear about her."

Yato took a few breaths. "Why go through the trouble of asking me how I was?"

"I would have told you something else if I thought you had really moved past it all."

"What would you have told me?"

"That you're an ass, and that you should have at least given someone some warning before disappearing like that."

He made a face at her and sat back down, relaxing visibly. "You're the ass for getting me all worked up. I'm going to drink more of your sake now."

Bishamon rolled her eyes and poured herself another glass as well.

"Oh, Yato, you know you can't visit her, right?"

"Hmmmmm?"

"You can't go see Hiyori. It's too risky."

"I know already. C'mon. Lemme enjoy myself here."

It was morning, or maybe it was just always cheery and sunny at Bishamon's. Either way, Yato had overstayed his welcome.

Plans of sneaking out unnoticed were dashed as soon as Yato opened the door to the hallway. Shinki were up and about, laughing in the carefree way of spirits that had never blighted their master, and several gave Yato wide-eyed stares as they passed him. He didn't recognize most of them. He had been gone for a very long time, hadn't he?

He spotted Kazuma and immediately looked away, but it was too late. Kazuma hurried over and greeted him with a bright "Good morning!" and motioned for Yato to follow as he began to make his way past the crowd. Most of the shinki were young, Yato noticed; Bishamon's empathy for children orphaned in death had only grown since he had been here last.

A taller spirit ambled past with the others in light conversation with a child who couldn't have been more than four years old. "It's bad to take things that aren't yours," the older one chided as they walked by, her voice piercing through the rest of the chatter. Yato froze.

"Thank you for visiting, Yato." Kazuma opened the door, but Yato didn't move.

"Kazuma," he said urgently. "Was that—"

Kazuma's hand was over Yato's mouth in an instant and, just like that, Yato's worst fears were confirmed.

Yato stared at the closed door of Bishamon's palace, the image of Hiyori Iki leading children to the springs burned into his mind.

A/N: this is my first time writing for noragami and my first time writing at all in way too long so please be as critical as you'd like

also i was going to let this stand alone but i have ideas for more. should i continue it?

thanks for reading!

-ebaz