Thanks for reading! I plan to update this fic 2-3 times per week on avg.
The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction
Robs the vast sea; the moon's an arrant thief,
And her pale fire she snatches from the sun;
The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves
The moon into salt tears
-William Shakespeare, Timon of Athens
"You? Of all people, you?"
Yukine lifted his head. The box of dishes he was carrying was too heavy. He set it down on the pavement, squinting. A beautiful girl with long light hair marched towards Yato, Yukine's brother for all intents and purposes.
"You're moving in here?" The girl's lips curled into a snarl. She held a cat with a lion-like mane to her chest.
Yato managed a smile. "I see Karuha's still doing well." He nodded at the animal, who hissed.
"You had to move into my house?" she continued, ignoring his pleasantries. "It's not—"
"Technically Yukine and I will be living on the second floor. You and your roommate have the third, and our landlords have the first." Yato tilted his head towards Yukine, who gave an awkward wave. How exactly was he supposed to react? The woman looked as if she'd like to set Yato on fire for something he'd probably done.
"I know how it works," she huffed. "I've lived here since undergrad." She looked to Yukine. "Are you in charge of him?"
"He's my brother," Yato said, dragging Yukine over and wrapping an arm around him like he was proud to show Yukine off.
The woman arched an eyebrow. "Poor you."
"I'm Yukine," he said.
"You clearly don't like me insulting your brother." She rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm sure you'll find out it's true if you don't know it already. I'm Bishamonten. I would say we'd never have to see each other but we both know that's not realistic." She turned and stalked back into the house. The cat growled at them. Or at Yato.
"Ex girlfriend?" Yukine asked as he crouched, picking up the box of dishes again. He grimaced. His shoulders strained. Sweat beaded his forehead.
"Not hardly." Yato scowled. "That's a story for another time, okay?"
"Okay." Yukine couldn't exactly protest. He staggered over the threshold of the house. The box dug into his palms. He cringed. Just—the stairwell left—his arms strained. He would not drop this box. He would not drop this—
"Whoa there!"
The load lightened. Yukine blinked.
"Don't worry; I got you," said a smiling man. "I'm Daikoku, your landlord's husband."
Yukine didn't know what to say. "Is it the landlord's job to help us move in?"
"No, but Kofuku would be mad if I didn't." Daikoku nodded at a woman with pink hair unlocking their door.
"Welcome, welcome!" she said cheerily. Yukine wasn't quite sure how to read her. "We're glad to have you!"
Or the money, Yukine thought as Yato staggered into the apartment, swearing as he carried three boxes stacked on top of each other. Of clothes.
"We've known Yato for years," she continued.
So clearly that meant she had to know whatever was the history between Bishamon and Yato. And still offered them a place. Or maybe she just didn't like Bishamon.
"You're going to the local high school, right?" asked Kofuku. "What year are you?"
"I'm year two," he said. "Sixteen."
"Will you be taking the exam for the same college as Yato next year?" asked Daikoku.
"I'm not sure yet." Yukine shot daggers at Yato. Help me. He did not want to answer so many questions.
"He's got time," Yato said cheerfully, slinging an arm around Yukine's shoulders. Yato was in his final year studying physics, with an astrophysics focus. He spent most of his evenings grumbling about his research on moons across the galaxy.
"Bisha's studying genetics at the same university," Kofuku said. "She'll calm down, Yato."
Yato winced. "Maybe."
"Her roommate, Kazuma, is just studying his graduate studies in the same lab," Daikoku added.
Yato nodded. "I know Kazuma. He's great."
"You're not helping your case when you say she isn't an ex," Yukine informed Yato the moment they left. He unpacked the dishes. One mug was chipped. Yukine didn't care. He liked it.
"Hey!" Yato tossed bubble wrap at him. Yukine caught it with a laugh, crunching the bubbles. "She's not. I kissed her once, but it wasn't like that. Not ever."
"You're really not helping your case now."
"Brat."
"Did you know she was living here?" Yukine grabbed a stool to put the dishes in the cabinet. He hated being short. The gods were not fair.
"Nope." Yato scowled as he pulled out a sweatshirt and shrugged it on. "But Kofuku knows both of us, so it's not really surprising."
"Oh." Yukine frowned. When Yato took him in, Yukine had been wary of trusting him. But Yato seemed to be similar to him: on the outskirts of society. But he was at least more willing to break in. Yukine envied him in that aspect.
I hope I can learn.
Then again, when he remembered he had to actually enroll in a school and sit in some stupid classroom for hours on end starting on Monday, he reconsidered.
"Have a good day!" Yato called. "Or, survive."
Yukine smirked, rolling his eyes as he slipped out the door. Yato still had another hour before his class. He hadn't seen Bishamon since moving in, though Kazuma had waved at him and Yukine as they cleaned.
He grabbed his bag and headed out. He hoped Yukine had a decent time at school. It'd be good for him to socialize. Yato supposed, anyways. Or so all the articles online that he had been staying up into two in the morning on the fuel of coffee and desperation had told him. He was Yukine's brother and father figure now and damn if he wasn't going to be the best one he could be. It hadn't been easy to convince people that Yukine would do better with him than in an institution like he'd been consigned to for most of his life. And the reason why was something Yato was told not to discuss with people, and he wouldn't. Poor kid.
But he liked Yukine. From the moment he met him on a freezing winter day, the kind of day that made your bones feel like icicles and your ears feel like frigid wet fingers were probing around inside, helping a girl waiting for her mother at a bus stop-a mother who never showed because if Yato knew anything for certain in this world it was that parents could be dicks-he saw himself in the kid. Which was why he let the boy stay at his tiny apartment when he pretty quickly realized the kid had no home either.
"If you don't want people to know that you grew up in one of those places," said Yato, chomping on a chocolate bar. "Just say I'm your nii-san."
"As if," snapped Yukine, yanking the chocolate away from him to have a bite. "Nii-san."
He liked how it sounded.
Yato arrived on campus and headed towards the building his first class was in. Ah, he had to take some stupid biology class to fulfill a requirement. How dumb. He could only hope Bisha wouldn't be TA'ing or he was probably in for Fs, deserved or undeserved. But this school had such a large biology department.
Sure enough, as Yato entered the lecture hall, he saw a boy named Kaguha as the TA. Tolerable. He dropped into a seat, huffing, and checked his phone. No disastrous text from Yukine yet.
"Is this seat taken?" a voice asked. Yato craned his neck.
His stomach somersaulted. Her eyes popped. "Yato?"
His jaw hung open and his voice wouldn't work. It took him a few minutes to find it again, to say her name. "Hiyori?"
"I didn't know you were a student here!" She plopped down in the seat next to him, fumbling to take out her notebook.
"I've got one more year and one more requirement to knock off," Yato admitted, glowering at the screen at the front of the room.
She laughed. "I'm a literature major, so this is for a requirement too. Although it's my first year."
Of course it was.
"How's Yukine?" she asked, jaw soft, tone tinged with concern.
"He's fine," Yato said. "We moved into a new apartment. I'm taking care of him."
"Good."
They met together, the three of them. The same day he met Yukine, a few hours before, a girl shoved him out of the way of a car because he was too busy angry texting Kofuku. Yukine had been with him for one day before he ran into her again at her summer job, a small bookstore.
"Excuse me," said the manager, approaching as they stood around talking, feeling each other out. Yato could tell Yukine thought Hiyori a pretty girl. Which she was. "Can you empty your pockets?"
"Why?" Yato demanded.
"You know these people, Hiyori?" asked the manager. She nodded. "Well, our security cameras picked up on something interesting."
Shit. Yato slid his eyes towards Yukine, who was avoiding his gaze, focusing instead on the jars of little pins with literary quotes on them, worry stones, and small candies.
Yato scowled, emptying his pockets. A crumpled tissue, two receipts so old the ink was faded or worn, nothing else.
Yukine studied the floor. He balled his fists up. And then he turned to run.
"Hey!" Yato grabbed his elbow, catching him. Yukine struggled, but only for a few moments. He glared up at Yato, and in his eyes Yato saw an expression that struck him cold. Defeat. Like he was older than the fourteen years he claimed to be—even though he was short, a fact which Yato had not hesitated to point out—and as if he expected Yato to hate him, to turn on him.
"Wait!" called Hiyori. "He didn't actually—I gave him those. Yato told me not to, but I gave him them. I was going to ring it up and pay for it myself." She flashed an awkward smile. "Right, Yukine?"
Yukine glanced at her. His eyes were wide. His jaw trembled.
And Yato had to clamp his mouth shut to keep from gaping. She was—people didn't do things like that. But she—twice, now. First, the bus, now Yukine. Why did she care so much?
He thought he knew what people were like, but she was unique.
But they called the police anyways, and Yato decided to intervene. A few days later, after Yato had gotten custody of Yukine, he went to Hiyori's shop. But she no longer worked there, and he knew Yukine blamed himself.
Since Yato came for him, since Hiyori helped him, the kid had been nothing but helpful, almost too much so sometimes. Yato wanted to be a good older brother for him. A decent father. Though he had to look up resources to even begin attempting to imagine what that might look like.
"We went looking for you," Yato said. "But we presumed you'd lost your job because of—"
Hiyori narrowed her eyes. "I quit."
"Huh?" Yato gaped. Students continued to filter in around them. Yato ignored the flurry.
"I didn't like that they called the cops on a scared kid."
"Well, it was the law."
"I didn't care. It gave me more time to practice martial arts anyways." Hiyori smirked, tapping a purple pen against her lips. "Are you gonna need a study partner for this subject?"
"Absolutely not, my scientific gifts will carry me through."
"I think your nose is growing three sizes."
Yato rolled his eyes. "Why, will martial arts and literature not save you?"
"Not hardly," Hiyori said. "Though, my dad's a doctor. And I used to want to be one, so maybe that'll save me."
"Lucky," Yato said, glancing again at the still-empty front of the classroom. Two more minutes until the professor had to arrive. Probably some arrogant asshole determined to make a grand entrance. All professors had to have minored in drama, Yato was certain. "Want to keep each other afloat?"
Hiyori laughed. He liked the sound, like tinkling chimes. "Let's."
"Yukine'd probably like to see you, too," Yato said. "You should come over for dinner."
Hiyori nodded. "Sure."
His heartbeat picked up. Yato twirled a pen between his fingers. He tried to imagine having a doctor for a father. Because his father was—
The professor.
I'm sorry, what?
He couldn't actually be seeing this. Yato rubbed at his eyes.
"Are you okay?" asked Hiyori.
Yato couldn't even respond. His tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of his mouth. He could only stare at the man standing at the front of the classroom next to the projection screen, smiling serenely. The classroom felt like it was tilting, like he would fall out of his seat.
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
"Yato?"
What did I do wrong in a past life to deserve this? He gritted his teeth. His pen felt as if it might snap in his hand.
"Hello, hello, class," called his stupid father. Or not really. Foster father, except he wasn't ever anything of the sort. "I'll begin by taking the roll."
Nope. Yato glowered, folding his arms and slouching and contemplating how badly he really wanted to graduate. By the time he reached his name, Yato had clenched his jaw so tightly he couldn't even pry it open to answer the man.
"Yato?" prompted his father, looking straight at him. "Or are you absent?"
Fuck you. Yato uncrossed his arms. "I'm here."
"Good. Did you not hear me correctly the first time?" He kept a pleasant smile on his face, a lightness to his tone, and it made Yato sick.
"Oh no, I heard you," Yato said, and something ignited in his bones. "I'm just a bit confused." He kept his voice even. "You see, I thought our professor had a different name."
Hiyori slid her eyes to him, brow furrowed. Someone let out a small gasp. Surely they thought he was being rude. Yato scowled.
"Indeed," said Father. "But he was—unable to teach this semester due to a personal problem. So I, Professor Fujisaki, took over, and I'm delighted at the opportunity to teach you all. I'm a new doctorate, but I assure you I'm more than qualified."
Oh, I'm sure. Yato narrowed his eyes. You set all this up, didn't you? You snake.
"I don't believe there are other sections this semester, but if you have—"
The walls were closing in on him. Either he got up now or stayed rooted in this seat for the entire semester—no, for his entire life. "I'll take it next semester. This isn't what I signed up for." Yato stood.
Gasps resounded now, all horrified at his rudeness.
"Well, should you change your mind, I'd be happy to welcome you back," chirped Father.
"My mind's made up." And it couldn't be changed. But then, neither could he, could he?
"Yato," hissed Hiyori. "What—"
He glanced down at her, completely confused, stunned really at his rudeness. Well, he had no better option right now. Or ever. "Sorry, Hiyori." He turned and stalked out of the lecture hall, the door banging behind him.
Hiyori…
Shit. His father saw her sitting with him, talking with him. Now he'd probably target her. Well, it was good she'd quit that job then, and he wouldn't have a class with her. He could focus on Yukine and not on anything else, and he wouldn't have to worry about whatever his father would try on her. He would give up once he saw Hiyori was not tied to Yato. Yato hoped, anyways.
He stopped in his tracks. He had no idea how he was going to face Yukine and tell him he'd marched out of a classroom after he'd been encouraging the boy to face his own demons.
I can't do it. I can't change.
Fuck.
High school sucked. Yukine watched the kids around him whisper, nodding at the strange new kid whom they couldn't give a shit about. He also got a math teacher who liked to call on him even though it was the first day and reveal just how little Yukine knew. He fucking hated math.
Lunchtime came around and he retreated to the outside campus, sitting on a rock wall and pulling out his rice and chicken, the one Yato bought him from the local convenience store. He heard other kids laughing as they sat in groups, with friends like he'd never had, but he was around the corner, so at least he would not have to see them and remember yet again that that familiar feeling, the one that scraped at his bones.
"You're in my spot."
Yukine looked to the side, blinking. A girl with short dark hair crouched on the wall next to him, staring. How the hell did she sneak up on him like that? What was she, some kind of ghost? "Who are you?"
She cocked her head, studying him. "You have pretty eyes."
"Huh?" His hands found his sockets. "What—"
"You're the new kid, right?" She hopped down from the wall. "I usually sit here for lunch."
Okay… "Well, I'm sitting here today."
Her eyes narrowed. "You live with your older brother, don't you?"
"Huh?" How did she know that? How did—
"His name's Yato," she continued, a smile on her lips, which were covered in a pale lipstick. "But he's not really your brother, is he? It just makes you both feel better to call each other that."
"Who told you that?" Yukine got to his feet, chest heaving. What else did she know? Who even was this—
Her lips broke apart, but there was no smile in her eyes. Like glass, they simply reflected him and nothing behind them. "He's my older brother too."
Yukine shook his head. "Yato doesn't have a family."
"Oh, is that what he told you?" She stepped closer. "I heard he wouldn't even be your brother if you hadn't gotten yourself arrested. Because of you, he had to move out of his old apartment. Because of you, he had to—"
"Shut up!" Yukine glared at her. "How the hell—"
"I told you. He's my brother. A sister should keep an eye out for her brother, and a brother for his sister. That's what siblings do." She put her hands on her hips. "You're in my class and in my brother's life and now you're in my spot."
"Exactly," Yukine heard himself say. He laughed, because this girl was contradicting herself. "That's what siblings do. Yato and I are—keeping an eye out for each other. He doesn't seem to consider you his sister, and you didn't pay for this spot, so go away."
Her eyes flashed. "Now you're being rude."
"You are the rudest person I've ever met, and that's saying something."
She actually stomped her foot. Like a toddler. "You're—"
The bell rang. Yukine glared at her. She reached out and grabbed his food, throwing it onto the grass. She stormed inside.
"The bell rang anyways; that was pointless," Yukine called after her.
She didn't turn around.