Hiyori Iki was running, gasping, her lungs burning. Heedless, she plunged onward, the rain mingling with her tears and soaking her hair. She was deaf to all but the sound of her footfalls on the slick pavement and the thundering of her thoughts.

"You must really love Yaboku."

When Yato's father said that, her first thought had been: of course not . Of course not! Yato was just…Yato. He followed her around like an excitable puppy, whined constantly to get his way, and on occasion climbed through her window without warning. She hadn't been lying when she said she wanted to be with him, but neither was she exaggerating when she'd called him a pain in the ass. But as she stammered out her defensive reply, she felt the tiniest flicker of doubt.

It was ridiculous, really. Yato so much as putting his face close to hers—he'd never shown any hint of understanding the concept of personal space—had her flustered and blushing. She had ignored it, pushing it as far to the back of her mind as she could. It was the least of her concerns, anyway; the hospital, Bishamon's treason, and the god's greatest secret had given her more than enough to worry about. But now…now, she wondered.

When did it start?

It had been a normal day, for once: one of those rare periods of peace between crises. After school, she headed to Kofuku's place, which had reverted to its normal pleasant atmosphere now that Yukine had forgiven his mentor. Maybe she would get a chance to talk to Yato about her idea for celebrating Yukine's birthday.

She didn't know why it had happened just then. Just as she rounded the corner into Kofuku's living room, and saw him standing there. He wasn't looking at her: his gaze was focused on the shrine—her shrine—in his hands, and on his face was the softest, warmest smile. The smile of someone who had felt a thousand, thousand heartbreaks and somehow, impossibly, loved all the harder for it.

That smile, she had seen before. She knew who he was, and how he felt—about the tiny, imperfect shrine she had carved, and about her. Of course she knew. But, she realized as the tears came unbidden to her eyes, and she felt her entire world collapse under the unimaginable weight of her heart, she hadn't understood.

When did I start loving you so much I couldn't stand it?

So she ran.

And as she ran, the days and weeks and months crashed down upon her. All those times she had said one silly thing or another, and found herself backtracking, hastening to assure the others that she hadn't meant anything by it.

I'll come see you every day.

I want to be with you forever.

She had meant everything by that; she was just the last to know.

Now that she did, it all would change. It had to, she knew. Even if she never told a soul. She would never again be able to ignore that longing to be closer to him, even though what she treasured most was being together the way they always had. What would happen to that Yato and Hiyori, now? She could count so many times she had feared that her Far-Shore family would never recover, but none of them scared her half as much as this.

Hiyori collapsed, at last, falling to her knees on the wet pavement of a bridge where an irresponsible god had once told a clueless girl that trite and singular phrase: may our fates intertwine .

She loved him. She loved him, and what the hell was she supposed to do with that information?

He found her there a quarter of an hour later, still crying as if the world were about to end. He knelt, and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Hiyori?"

She didn't reply, but neither did she move away, so without a word he pulled her into his arms. She sobbed against his chest, fists clutching his jacket.

Finally, to Yato's immense relief, she cried herself out, and pulled back.

"Yato."

"Uh. I'm not going to ask if you're ok, since you seem very...not ok." His face was full of confusion and dismay.

"Thanks," she sniffled.

"We should probably go inside somewhere though. It's...very wet."

Hiyori laughed a little, and nodded.

"Yeah, you look like you fought a swimming pool and lost."

Yato scoffed in mock indignation.

"Well, you look like a cat that's been tossed in the bathtub."

"Wha—augh!" Hiyori's tail puffed up as she realized with horror that she'd dropped her body. "Where did I lose it!?"

"Back at Kofuku's; don't worry," Yato said, trying to sound as reassuring as possible while snorting with laughter. He stood, and helped her to her feet. "C'mon, drippy." Hiyori huffed.

"Call me that again and I'll Jungle Savate you into next Tuesday." Still, she took his hand, and he was surprised when she grabbed onto his arm to walk closer to him.

"Do you wanna tell me what's wrong?"

"I will. But not now." So they could be just Yato, and just Hiyori, for a little while longer.

Just a little longer.

He nodded. Hand in hand, they walked home.

xxx

A/N: I totally forgot to upload these over here, whoops! Well, here they are now.

The prompt for this was "Firsts" so I went with "First Love" (because I am incapable of doing prompts straightforwardly)

+10 points if you got the Fruits Basket reference.