I suddenly wanted to write this with a plot, so this is the part where the alphabetical titles become more and more of a stretch. Happy reading! :)
They've fallen into a rather enjoyable routine: one unmarked by battles, ablutions, executions, or any other form of particularly nasty cosmic dispute. It's an unsustainable routine, perhaps, but pleasant while it lasts. Hiyori doesn't bother asking herself why she looks forward so much to the time she spends daily with Yato (and Yukine, she makes sure to add, and Kofuku, and Daikoku too).
One day, she realizes how dependent she's actually become on his dependency. In class, when her phone stops lighting up every few seconds with his name, she finds it a bit jarring. He rarely gives her phone screen a chance to darken before the next tweet comes in. Typically, this barrage of messages continues until she shows up in person. But today at school, her phone is completely dim. She finds herself picking it up repeatedly to check if it's died, because the silence is so unusual.
She still goes over to Kofuku's after school ends, but this time she doesn't know what to expect. She finds Yukine alone, already working on his self-assigned homework.
"Yato has to be in Takama-ga-hara for a little while," Yukine explains, when she asks about the radio silence.
"Oh. Okay."
Yukine hears something off in the way she says it, and his eyebrows scrunch together.
"This isn't like when he disappeared before—this is some sort of official 'colloquy' thing that shinki aren't allowed to go to. They won't even let us in the building where it's being held. But Bishamon is keeping an eye on him and Kofuku while they're there—only because Kazuma asked her to, I'm sure."
This gives Hiyori some satisfaction, although she's a bit surprised that Kofuku was summoned too. The image of the mighty Bishamon shepherding Yato and Kofuku around Takama-ga-hara—like a harried schoolteacher—brings a bubble of laughter to her lips.
"She has to be loving that," she comments with a grin, and settles down to review Yukine's homework with him.
The Yato-less days have their own brand of quiet restfulness. Hiyori recognizes this, and uses the time to her advantage. She can't remember the last time she managed to get this far ahead in her studies. Her phone only buzzes once every couple of hours, but the long, unbroken stretches of silence are so unfamiliar to her that she almost doesn't know how to cope with them. The quiet becomes hollow: there's a faint, static ring in her ears.
It's been several nights now since he came to read to her in her room, and her pulse skips when she realizes that those hours are totally private to them. Yukine doesn't even know about them—and her parents…oh, gods. To tell them that she goes to sleep with a strange boy reading next to her bed nearly every night? Hiyori cringes.
Days keep passing; it's been nearly a week, and when neither Kofuku nor Yato show signs of returning to the Near Shore, she wonders if there's any grounds for worry. Most of her time in the last few days has been spent with Yukine and Daikoku, and occasionally Kazuma, who drops in frequently to check on his pupil.
"Do colloquys usually take this long?" Hiyori asks Daikoku. The four of them sit around the low table, and as the three shinki chat amiably, Hiyori wonders if she's the only one neurotic enough to have doubts. Daikoku shrugs.
"I don't have an accurate frame of reference. They usually don't like Kofuku to go to these things, so I can't say for sure."
"They're really that scared of her?" Yukine manages to ask, forming the question around an enormous mouthful of food.
Daikoku can't hide his satisfaction, though he makes an effort.
"They're terrified of her," he says, smirking.
Yukine and Kazuma both laugh, and Hiyori smiles, though she wishes his answer were more satisfying. Kazuma recognizes her tension, and takes pity.
"You don't need to be concerned, Hiyori. This is well within the typical time frame for a colloquy. Also, days pass much differently in the heavens than they do here; the three of them may come back feeling as though just a few hours have passed."
This gives her some slight relief, and a little of the tightness that's been building up in her shoulders slips away. She smiles gratefully at Kazuma, and goes back to the food in front of her that shows signs of only being picked at.
"Yato still could have given me some warning before he took off," Yukine grumbles, finishing his plate and leaning back on his hands.
"It was a very abrupt summons," says Kazuma. "Veena barely had enough time to tell me she had been called in before she had to leave."
"Same with Kofuku," Daikoku agrees, and Hiyori sits up straighter. It sounds like there's some urgent business in the heavens—something that requires an emergency colloquy—and the other three around the table don't sound even slightly concerned.
"Well that's not normal, is it?" she asks, trying to keep her voice level. "Shouldn't there be more advance notice? Especially if these meetings usually take such a long time."
Daikoku gives her a look—a strange, knowing look that, for some reason, makes her cheeks burn. But again, it's Kazuma who gives her an answer:
"It's not really for us to question, or to judge. The colloquys are part of the gods' duties, and it is our duty as exemplars to keep things in order until they return. We don't typically ask about scheduling arrangements."
His tone is kind—even a bit amused—but Hiyori still feels rebuked. She doesn't ask any more questions.
On her way back to her own home, she sees the turbulent spiral of an ayakashi storm rising. It's very far away, and she has no reason to worry about it. Still, she averts her eyes from the sight. The image of the storm remains before her eyes as she hurries home: like a flurry of ashes scattered high above the horizon.