.

Part 1

If Yukine dreamed, there was nothing scary enough to remember. Maybe a hazy sense of something, but he had the lazy sense of a deep and dreamless sleep as he slowly drifted back to consciousness. Sunlight was streaming through the window, bright and cheery, and he stretched languidly, safe in the knowledge that there was nothing sneaking up on him from the shadows now, waiting for the chance to shove him back into a box.

He sat up and paused. Yato was still sitting cross-legged on the floor beside him with his head propped on his arms, dozing in that painful world somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. It looked extremely uncomfortable being all hunched over like that. He sighed something and seemed to start as if he was shaking himself awake, but his eyes only opened halfway and were glassy even before they slipped shut again a second later.

"Idiot god," Yukine mumbled.

If he didn't know any better, he'd think Yato had tried to keep watch all night in case of more nightmares. Really, Yato had sustained serious injuries fighting against Takemikazuchi and the heavens, and he needed rest as desperately as Yukine did. He shouldn't be kept up all night worrying.

Yukine slid out of bed and crouched beside the slumbering god.

"Hey. Bakagami. What are you doing?"

He poked Yato, and the god's eyes slid halfway open. The light in his eyes was dulled, leaving them a bleary blue glazed with sleep. He mumbled something incoherent, and Yukine sighed.

"C'mon, you can't even wake up."

He clicked his tongue in exasperation and grabbed Yato's shoulders to tug him around with a grunt and push him down halfway on the futon. Yato rolled over with a sigh and contracted his limbs into the fetal position. He stared at Yukine blankly through half-lidded eyes and then frowned sleepily.

"Yukine?" he mumbled. "You alright?"

"Better than you." Yukine narrowed his eyes and crouched with his arms tucked across his knees. "Honestly, what were you thinking?"

Yato sighed something that might have been intended as a response but was entirely unintelligible, but his eyes slipped shut again and his breathing evened into the quiet rhythm of sleep.

Yukine watched him for a moment before shaking his head and standing. He got ready quietly, tiptoeing around with only Yato's breathing for company, and closed the door softly behind him as he crept out of the room and headed downstairs.

Kofuku and Daikoku were holding a hushed conversation in the kitchen, but gave him their full and undivided attention the second he walked through the door.

"Did you sleep alright?" Daikoku asked gruffly.

"How are you feeling today, Yukki?" Kofuku asked in concern. "Is Yato-chan still sleeping? It's so late already!"

"I'm fine, thanks." Yukine sat down and smiled across the table at Kofuku. "Yato didn't sleep well, so I didn't wake him up. By the way, what happened while I was…? You know. I sort of missed most of the explanation, and Hiyori wasn't there for most of it."

Daikoku fetched Yukine breakfast and outlined how the covenant worked and what had happened. It sounded like an extraordinarily cruel ritual, but Yukine owed his freedom and sanity—and Yato's life—to it.

"I'm glad you're alright," he told Daikoku with a strained smile. "Thanks for…you know."

"Of course. I wasn't going to stand for you being trapped in a box for eternity. What a cruel form of torture."

Kofuku, who had been unusually silent up to now, promptly burst into tears.

"Kofuku?" Yukine asked in alarm, abandoning his breakfast. "Are you alright?"

"I'm sorry!" she wailed, covering her face with her hands. "I wanted you to be saved, but in the end I couldn't…"

Daikoku sighed and patted her on the head and whispered something into her ear. Yukine looked on with wide eyes, not knowing what to say.

"This again, Kofuku?" Yato asked from the doorway. Yukine twisted around as his master came plodding over, eyes still bleary and smudged with shadow. "I couldn't have put Yukine up either, so let's just call it even."

Yukine chewed on the inside of his cheek and nodded. "It's okay. Everything turned out fine, so don't worry about it. And what are you doing up, Yato? I thought you were still sleeping."

"Nope." Yato smothered a yawn behind his hand. "I was thinking we could go to Bishamon's place once Hiyori comes over. Check up on the psycho bitch."

Yukine nodded his agreement, guilt curdling in his stomach again. They probably owed Bishamon at least that much.

By the time Hiyori arrived forty minutes later, Yato had buried his exhaustion beneath good cheer and Yukine had stifled his nerves with the sunlight and they were ready to go.

Yukine lost his nerve when they walked inside Bishamon's mansion and all her shinki thanked them for saving her. He still didn't exactly feel great about nearly killing her and it seemed like she wasn't even awake yet anyway, so he slunk off down the hall instead.

"Hey, Yukine, where are you going?" Yato called after him.

"To look for Kazuma," he muttered as he ducked around the corner.

A bitter taste still coated his tongue when he thought of Kazuma using spells to force him to reveal dangerous information about Yato's father, but he had helped them against Takemikazuchi. Yukine couldn't quite bring himself to overlook the broken trust scattered beneath their feet like so many shards of glass, but he missed the days when things had been simpler, easier.

As it turned out, he didn't find Kazuma as he wandered about, so it was a confrontation he could postpone for another day. Probably just as well. He was still a bit antsy and on edge, and he wasn't looking for any more stress to add to his life right now.

He wandered out into the courtyard instead, drawn by the fresh air and open sky. It was warm and breezy even though it was winter outside Takamagahara, and the pleasant weather smoothed the tension from between his shoulder blades.

A bird cut through the air in front of him, startling him, and flitted off without a care in the world. Yukine couldn't help but smile. It soared gracefully with no chains binding its wings. How nice it must be to always fly free.

He followed after it as it sped across the courtyard and disappeared through an open doorway into some kind of storeroom. He ducked inside after it, wondering why it would trade the freedom of the sky for the walls of a room. There was a nest tucked against the wall by the door with two or three tiny heads peeking out of it. A chorus of cheeps and chirps greeted the mother's arrival.

The corners of Yukine's mouth quirked upwards.

A gust of slightly chilly air blew past and the door slammed shut, knocking into his shoulder and sending him toppling down the stairs. He banged into every step on the way down, pain shooting through his already battered body, and crashed to the floor at the bottom. The room was plunged into pitch darkness as the heavy door sealed it closed, and Yukine lay in a shivering heap.

The box. It was the box all over again. It was dark, the walls were closing in, he was trapped.

He pitched forward, searching frantically, blindly, for the exit. There had to be a way out, there had to be–

His seeking hands met a smooth wall and his panic exploded full force. He was trapped. He scrabbled at the wall desperately, clawing at it with his nails. He had to get out.

"Help!" His chest was tight, he couldn't breathe, his voice was swallowed up in the darkness, but panic drove him on. "Help me! Don't leave me in here, Da–!"

"Yukine!" Sunlight slashed through the dark like daggers and peeled it back. Yato leaned forward above him, reaching around the upended table Yukine was scrabbling at to grab his wrist. "It's okay! It's okay, it's me!"

Yukine panted and gasped for air but fell still. It wasn't the box. It was a storeroom, and he had fallen down the stairs when the wind blew the door shut and been scratching in vain at an old tabletop. That was all. It couldn't be like the box, because Yato had said there wouldn't be another box.

Yato's eyes were bluer than the wide-open sky, but clouded with concern and regret and something Yukine couldn't quite read. Yukine blinked back the tears of fear that had gathered in the corners of his own eyes and let Yato pull him out from behind the table and back up the stairs to the sunlight.

They stumbled past Hiyori and collapsed onto the grass. Yukine fell to his hands and knees, still wheezing and gasping for breath. Similarly labored breathing escaped Yato's lips from where he'd sunk to sit cross-legged behind him. Right, because Yato could feel Yukine's fear even when it was over something stupid, which was why Yukine needed to get his act together and stop being so pathetic already.

But that was something for Yukine to worry about later, because for now it was all he could do to catch his breath and calm his shivering. The sun was bright above him and he knew he was safe, but strange, hazy images still assaulted him like half-remembered hallucinations born of the dark.

"Are you two alright?" Hiyori asked in concern.

She fell to her knees beside Yukine and rested a comforting hand on his back. He tried to nod, but he was still too shaken up to be very convincing.

"This is all because I stuck my nose in when I shouldn't have," Yato muttered. "If it meant putting Yukine through such a horrible experience, then I shouldn't have done anything to begin with."

The hand rubbing Yukine's back disappeared as Hiyori turned to Yato. "But Yato, the reason Yukine was saved is precisely because you've worked so hard for everyone else. It was because of everything you did for them that they were willing to help you too. Why are you being so hard on yourself?"

Yukine dug his fingers into the grass and clenched them against the ground. Why was Yato blaming himself? Yukine hadn't approved of going against the heavens, not even to save Bishamon, but although it had been a crazy thing to do, it had also been right. Yato had done the right thing even when he knew it might very well get him killed, and it made Yukine proud while simultaneously wanting to smack some sense into him.

Neither of them had anticipated the box. There had been no way of knowing. And everything had worked out alright in the end. The box was horrible, but enduring it to save Bishamon and win a pardon seemed like a relatively small price to pay.

"I… All I did was watch." Yato's voice was low and harsh, colored with self-directed anger and grinding teeth. "He was right there in front of me, and I didn't do a damn thing. I could hear him the whole time, calling for help…"

Yukine's breath caught in his throat, and he hunched his shoulders as he stared down at the grass. Of course. Like now, Yato could feel Yukine's pain and fear. The box wouldn't have changed that, even if Yukine had felt totally alone. How horrible must it have been to feel his fear and hear his cries and feel helpless to do anything? Yato would have been listening to Yukine begging him for help the whole time, an unacknowledged companion in the box.

But he hadn't done nothing. Like Hiyori had said, the covenant would never have worked if Yato hadn't done so much for everyone else. Risking a beloved guidepost wasn't an easy thing to do for any god, as evidenced by Kofuku's distress. Daikoku might have volunteered either way, but if Ebisu hadn't felt indebted to Yato for saving his previous incarnation from Yomi, if Tenjin hadn't seen Yato risk everything to do the right thing and stand up to the heavens… Would anyone have been willing to fight for Yato and Yukine if they hadn't first seen how hard Yato himself fought?

And he had been protecting Yukine from the beginning, from the very first sting. He'd nearly died giving Yukine a second chance after the blight, had given him a place to belong, had always done his best to shield him from the worst dangers. The idiot had even taken a hit from his father's weapon to spare Yukine and had very nearly fried himself trying to protect him from Takemikazuchi's lightning. He was there when Yukine needed a companion after waking from nightmares, consumed with terror and needing someone to pull him out of the dark. He was the one Yukine could always count on when things got serious.

If none of that counted, then what did? If Yato hadn't protected Yukine, then who had?

Yukine sat up and twisted around. Yato was sitting with his back to him, hunched over and head lowered. Yukine reached out, hesitated, then placed his hand on the god's back and clutched the jersey. Yato went still, and Yukine stared at the fingers bunched in the fabric. Small droplets of blood seeped through the bandages and the gauze was ragged from scratching at the table, but those bandages had been lovingly wrapped about each fingertip like a promise.

"Yato," Yukine said in a wavering voice, "if you really hadn't done anything, I'd still be in that box right now. You protected me! You beat Takemikazuchi, you saved Bishamon, you silenced heaven… You did all those amazing things, so what is there to be ashamed of? Are you stupid?"

He stared at Yato's back, willing the words to get through even though they brought a flush to his face.

"Ah, who cares about any of that now?" Yato shifted and scooted around. He was wearing a smile, but Yukine didn't have time to gauge how genuine it was before the god pulled him into a hug and ruffled his hair. "Sorry about that."

"H-hey!" Yukine protested as he was dragged forward, but he waited a few seconds before pulling away.

With Yato back in better spirits, Hiyori relaxed visibly and even Yukine felt relieved. And when they left the mansion and Yato and Hiyori dragged Yukine along for a fun and busy day out in the open under the sun, he shoved aside the incident and resolved to calm his jittery nerves. He had no doubt they were trying to distract him, but he wanted to be distracted too and cooperated fully with the scheme.

He let the sun and his friends' laughter chase away the dark memories. His good mood carried him through the rest of the day, even once the sun went down. The circle of lamplight was enough to keep him calm tonight, even though Yato had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Yukine listened to his even breathing and occasional mumble for a while, but then slipped painlessly into sleep.

And that was when everything fell apart. The dream started off pleasantly enough, something with sun and laughter, but then he stumbled back and fell down a hole. His cry caught in his throat as he tumbled down, down, down, and his fingers caught at the packed dirt of the walls to slow his fall. He slammed into the ground and looked up. A light shone high above, but a shadow passed over it. Someone peered down, faceless and blurred at the edges.

"No!" Yukine cried, his eyes widening. "Don't leave me here! Don't–!"

The lid slammed shut, plunging him into darkness.

He sat up with a gasp, clutched at his chest, and swung his head about frantically. The circle of lamplight suddenly looked more menacing than safe, as if it might be swallowed whole at any second. He could feel it shrinking as the shadows crept closer. Someone faceless but deadly lurked in the darkness, waiting to lock him back in the box.

Dark and light smeared together through the film of tears that clouded his eyes and dripped down his cheeks. His heart thumped wildly beneath his hand, and although his panicked gasping filled the room, his chest was tight and he couldn't breathe.

He swiped his hand across his eyes and froze. With the haze of tears gone, he found himself staring across the room at Yato still peacefully asleep in his cocoon of blankets.

Yukine didn't think twice. Abandoning the threadbare protection of the light, he scuttled across the floor to shake Yato's shoulders. If even the light didn't feel safe anymore, there was only one thing that did.

"Yato! Yato, wake up!"

The god sighed something unintelligible and cracked his eyes partway open. "Yukine?" he mumbled around a yawn. He blinked slowly, sleep-addled incomprehension glazing his eyes. "What's wrong?"

Yukine's brain finally caught up to him, and he cursed his own stupidity. Yato was so exhausted that he could barely keep his eyes open despite the bombardment of emotions he must be feeling. He had already given up an entire night to Yukine's silly fears, a night of rest he really needed to recover from his injuries, and Yukine was selfish enough to wake him?

"N-nothing," Yukine whispered, shrinking back into himself. "Sorry… It's nothing. Never mind."

The darkness clawed at his back and he was sure there was someone watching him from the shadows, but he set his shoulders and refused to look.

"Nightmare?" Yato asked. His eyes dipped closed again as he rubbed at them with his hand, and his jaws cracked wide in a yawn.

"Yeah… But it's not a big deal. I'll just…"

Yato wriggled back until he hit the far end of the futon and then pulled back the corner of the blanket and beckoned with his hand. "C'mon in."

Yukine stared at him, at a loss for words, but then shook his head as heat flooded his cheeks. "No thanks. I'm not a kid."

"But you're my kid, so it's okay," Yato mumbled sleepily.

"But–"

"Come here."

Yukine bit his lip and risked a glance over his shoulder. The circle of lamplight was starting to look like a spotlight shining a big flashing sign to the man in the darkness. Hey, that kid you're looking for? He's right here!

Before he could think better of it, he darted under the blanket. Yato smothered another yawn and watched as Yukine curled up with his head on the pillow and pulled the blanket up to his chin.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really, just…" I just don't want to be alone.

Yato watched Yukine in silence for nearly a full minute, mouth tight and brows creased and eyes clearer than before. Then he grabbed the edge of the blanket and pulled it up and over both their heads.

Yukine stiffened as the room disappeared beneath the thin shield of the blanket.

"What–?"

"Is this okay?" Yato asked, studying his face as best he could in the dark.

Right, because it was dark and confined. But… Maybe it felt a little safer with the shadows shut out. Hiding from monsters beneath the blanket was a child's tactic, but it worked. And although it was a bit dark, Yato's eyes caught a hint of the gray light filtering through the fabric and glittered faintly like ice.

"You're okay. I've got you. Just look at me."

"Yeah," Yukine whispered, fixing his focus on the faint blue glow.

Yato waited a moment longer, undoubtedly poking at his emotions to judge whether he was telling the truth.

"I'd rather you just tell me what's bothering you," he said finally. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"It's fine…"

Yato sighed. "The dark can be kind of scary sometimes, but it doesn't always have to be. Night is also the time for secrets and stories and everything else you can't say while the daylight is shining on them. When everyone else is asleep, the night swallows up your secrets whole.

"It's just you and me, kiddo. Anything that's said under the blankets stays under the blankets. If there's anything you want to say, now is the time. I'm listening."

It was kind of cheesy, but Yukine didn't feel like making fun of. It would probably sound sillier in the daylight, but right now it rang true. Everyone was asleep, the shadows were barred entry, and it felt like there was no one in the world but him and Yato under the blankets. The night seemed a little less scary when there was someone to share it with.

This was still Yato and there were still things Yukine wouldn't say to him, but maybe the night had loosened his tongue.

"I was really scared," he said in a small voice.

The glint of sapphire disappeared as Yato closed his eyes. "I know," he said softly.

Yukine sniffled and rubbed at his nose. "But you make me feel safe."

Yato was quiet for a long time.

"I'm not always going to be able to protect you," he said finally. Every word was wrenched from his mouth with great reluctance. "But I'm always going to do my best, okay? No matter what else… I will always fight for you until the end. Just… I want you to know that."

Yukine got the strong feeling that this was about the box again.

"Of course," he said. "I've always known that. I'm… I'm the same way. I just panicked. I didn't want to die in the box again."

"Again?" Yato asked sharply.

The bright blue of his eyes flashed with something sharp and unreadable. Now that Yukine's eyes were adjusting to the gloom, he caught the shadow of Yato's mouth tightening into a frown again.

"I…don't know." Yukine huffed out a breath and rubbed at his forehead as it wrinkled in confusion. "Sorry, that doesn't make sense. I guess it just really messed with my head. The dreams probably make it seem worse than it is."

"Dreams?" Yato asked, and Yukine felt the distinct air of caution radiating from him.

"Nothing, really. Just dark and being trapped again."

Yato opened his mouth like he wanted to press the issue or ask something else, but then it drifted shut again. His face was pinched in troubled lines, even though there should be nothing strange about a few nightmares.

"When something's bothering you, just come to me," he said after another beat of silence. "I don't care if it's three in the morning."

Yukine slid his head back on the pillow and broke eye contact. "It feels stupid to be so scared of something silly like the dark," he admitted in a mumble.

"It's not stupid," Yato said sharply, and Yukine blinked at him in surprise. The god huffed out a sigh and softened his voice as the cold fire faded from his eyes. "Everyone's afraid sometimes. Fear is only a weakness if you let it be. It's okay to be afraid sometimes, and it's okay to come to me when you are. Alright?"

Yukine pressed his lips together to hide their tremble. "Alright," he whispered. There was a pause as he blinked back tears. "Yato?"

"Mm?"

"Tell me something."

"Something? Like what?"

"I don't know… Something about you that no one else knows."

Yukine felt laid bare, like he'd cracked his heart open a little too wide in the safety of the night where no one should be able to see but Yato did. Vulnerable, maybe. Soft, exposed. He wanted to feel like he wasn't the only one.

"Um…" Yato's brow furrowed in confusion, but then his eyes lit up and he grinned. "Secret." Yukine held his breath, waiting for the big revelation. "I know capypers aren't real."

Yukine blinked at him once, twice. Whatever he had been expecting to hear, it wasn't that.

"What?" he demanded. This from the idiot who got starry-eyed every time one of those dumb rodents showed its face? "Since when?"

"Since forever!"

"Then why–?"

"Because it annoys you and it's cute when Hiyori tries so hard to protect my pure, innocent belief and the looks on everyone's faces are hilarious when they think I'm an idiot." Yato snickered but then sobered a little. "Anyway, sometimes it's nice to find a little magic in the world instead of getting jaded."

"…I can't believe you."

"You can't tell anyone! What's said under the blankets stays under the blankets!"

Yukine shook his head in exasperation. "No one would believe me, anyway. We're all convinced you're a dumb kid at heart."

"Hey!"

He snorted and listened to the sound of their breathing for a few seconds before asking, "Can you tell me something else? Something…real?"

Yato pouted. "That was real."

"I know, but…" Yukine chewed on his lip and frowned into the dark. "Something that will help me understand you better. You hide a lot of stuff and don't like to talk about yourself."

A pause. "You're going to ferret out all of my secrets, huh?" The words were teasing, but there was something strained beneath the light tone.

"Just… You always want me to tell you when something's wrong and it feels like you know everything about me, but you don't… I just…wish you trusted me enough to tell me things too."

"Are we back on the trust thing again?" Yato asked. "It's not like that, just…" He groaned, a weary, guttural sound trapped beneath the blanket. "You know what, fine. But only because you're freaked out and played a cheap card."

Yukine played nervously with his freshly bandaged fingers and his heart pounded in anticipation. He wasn't sure if it was really a good idea to push his master, but Yato never wanted to talk about anything serious about himself or his past. Even something small would be enough. Anything to give Yukine even the smallest glimpse into the incomprehensible workings of his god's mind.

Yato was quiet for a long time, brow furrowed in thought, and then rolled onto his back. The blanket settled over his face, concealing his face from view.

"I took baby Ebisu out to eat when he was first reincarnated," he said finally, his voice muffled by the fabric. Yukine winced. He and Hiyori had secretly tagged along on that trip, but it was probably better Yato didn't know that. "Actually, it was something the other Ebisu said he wanted to do in Yomi, so… Anyway, he said that when he was reborn, he immediately knew he wanted to make everyone happy and thought it was that way for all gods.

"I don't really know… I grew up killing people. But I've been thinking about it. I killed because Father wanted me to. More than being scared of him, in the beginning I just wanted to make him proud. Happy. And because of that…

"It sounds like such a nice thing, but it's dangerous too. If you're trying to make the wrong person happy… It could've been different, you know. I met someone a little later, and she taught me right from wrong. I wanted her to be happy, so I didn't kill or steal. I collected flowers and frogs and helped the humans she seemed to like so much, because she showed me the beautiful side of their world. It could have been different."

Yukine gaped, stunned that Yato had taken the request to heart and opened up so much. He had been expecting some kind of cop-out, something calculated to be just deep enough to pass muster but not deep enough to really shed much light on anything.

"What happened to your friend?" he asked.

"…She died."

"I… I'm sorry."

There was a long pause, and Yukine wished Yato's entire face wasn't covered.

"Father tricked me into killing her because she was a bad influence on me."

Yukine's breath caught in his throat. "That's…"

"I've just been wondering," Yato breathed in a sigh. "He always told me that I was a god of calamity and only knew killing because that's who I was and what I was made to be, but I wonder… If I had been raised by someone else, I wonder if I could have been a good god."

Something tightened in Yukine's chest, sharp and bittersweet. "You are a good god," he said. His fingers burrowed into the sheets beneath him and curled into fists. "I mean, you aren't perfect, but who is? You can't blame yourself for everything. Your dad tried to make you into an evil god, but you've been trying to change for a long time, right? If that was who you were, you wouldn't have spent so long looking for a way out. And you… I think you're good."

Yato rolled back onto his side, the blanket sliding over his hair instead of covering his face. He smiled at Yukine. His eyes were murky, but the smile seemed genuine.

"Well, I've got a good exemplar to guide me."

No matter how many times he said things like that, the praise still made Yukine's cheeks darken. But this time it didn't stop him from chewing on the inside of his cheek as he thought about what Hiyori had said the other day.

"I'm here to help you," he said, choosing every word carefully, "but I'm not the one making you a good god. You already help us on your own. I mean, you nearly killed yourself to help Bishamon even when I didn't want you to. You can be kind of obnoxious and self-absorbed sometimes, but you've always been really good to us. You don't need me for that. I'm here to guide you when you lose your way or don't know what to do, but you're good all on your own."

Yato stared back at him, eyes entirely inscrutable, and then huffed out a tired laugh. "I think you're underestimating yourself. Is there anything else you want to tell me, or are we done?"

Yukine opened his mouth, hesitated. Yato had opened up and shared something deeply personal as a show of trust, but that didn't mean he was ready to actually talk about it.

"I think we're done," Yukine mumbled.

"Okay." Yato grabbed the corner of the blanket. As he started to peel it back, a burst of energy exploded in Yukine's chest and he reached up to yank it back down. Yato frowned at him. "Yukine?"

Yukine flushed and looked away, clutching the blanket tightly. "Thank you," he mumbled into the night. "For telling me."

He pulled the blanket back down before Yato had the chance to say anything else and breathed in the fresh air. It had been getting a bit stale under there.

"You can stay here tonight," Yato said when Yukine made to slide out of the futon. He yawned and nestled his cheek back into the pillow, dark hair sticking up every which way from the blanket rubbing all over it.

"But–"

"Mm, I'll get your lamp." His eyelids were starting to droop again already, but he stretched with a sigh.

Yukine scooted across the intervening space to grab him. "No, that's okay."

"But–"

He buried his face in Yato's chest and curled closer. "I don't need it here," he mumbled.

There was another long silence, but then an arm draped across Yukine loosely and fingers tangled in his hair. "Goodnight, Yukine."

"'Night, Yato."

Yato fell back asleep almost instantly, mumbling and twitching as he was often wont to do, but Yukine didn't mind. This would normally be rather humiliating, but he needed someone to keep his fears at bay tonight. Yato was pretty useless at most things, but this he could do better than anyone.

Yukine sank back into his dreams, and was dismayed to find that he was right back where he'd left off with the faceless man locking him away. He narrowed his eyes against the dark and squinted at the disappearing sliver of light, but he wasn't quite afraid this time. There wasn't going to be another box, because…

When he looked harder, the faceless man shimmered out of view like a mirage and Yato was crouching above him with his blue eyes shining bright enough to burn away the darkness, pushing the lid back. The god reached down to grab Yukine's arm and pull him back up into the sunlight. Yukine collapsed against him with a sigh of relief and nestled into the safety of his arms.

"Don't forget, Yukine," Yato said with all the grave solemnity of a figment of a dream. "I don't believe in capypers."

Yukine woke with a goofy smile plastered on his face, fighting back the urge to laugh.

He sat up with a yawn and frowned, wondering why he was tucked into Yato's futon instead of his own, before remembering the events of the previous night. Heat rushed to his face as he recalled his absolutely childish display, but Yato was already gone and he was alone in the room.

He got ready and tramped downstairs, steeling himself for the inevitable teasing. Kofuku and Daikoku were chatting in the kitchen like most mornings, but Yato was nowhere to be seen.

"Good morning, Yukki!" Kofuku chirped.

"Good morning. Has anyone seen my good-for-nothing master?"

"He's been bouncing in and out all morning," Daikoku said. "No idea how he has so much energy. I'm already tired just watching him."

"Yato-chan is in an awfully good mood!" Kofuku added with a smile.

"Huh." Yukine sat down at the table and dug into the breakfast Daikoku slid over to him. "I would've thought he'd be more tired after being up half the night."

"Oh?" A frown tugged at Daikoku's mouth as he debated how much to press. "Are you having trouble sleeping still?"

Yukine shrugged and mumbled something vague that could be mistaken for an answer, and Kofuku's eyes lit up like she had just solved a mystery.

"Nightmares?" she asked.

"…Sort of."

"Did you wake Yato-chan up?"

"…Yeah."

Her grin widened. "On purpose?"

"…Maybe." Yukine poked at his food, his cheeks burning. Not only had he woken Yato, but also climbed into bed with him like a scared child running to a parent after a nightmare. How pathetic.

"Aw, that's so cute!" Kofuku cooed, wriggling in excitement. "No wonder Yato-chan's in such a good mood."

"Uh…" Yukine blinked at her in confusion. Whatever she was seeing, he wasn't seeing it. "What?"

"Yato-chan likes to treat you like his kid, you know." She smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "It makes him happy when you act like it too. Like you're a family."

Yukine stared at her, food forgotten. He had thought that being such a child was embarrassing and pathetic, but he hadn't considered that maybe Yato didn't see it that way. A family, huh?

The front door crashed open, and Yato came bouncing into the kitchen with a wide grin on his face.

"Oh, look who's finally up!" he said loudly. He pranced across the room and leaned down to drape an arm across Yukine's shoulder. "How're you doing, kiddo?"

"Good." Yukine looked back down at his plate to hide his blush and the small smile threatening to take over his face. "I'm good."