Disclaimer: I do not own Noragami.
013./ by myself, i have no self
(a/n: if you have not read chapter seventeen of the manga, then this is spoilery.)
He presses the palm of his hands against his eyelids.
(This can't be happening.)
He breathes—tries to—and feels the heft of his chest rising and falling, his lungs collapsing and expanding.
(This can't be happening.)
Yato's back rests against the wall—he feels the press of coarse stone against his spine, feels the cool slabs of concrete underneath him.
(This can't be happening.)
He feels it—feels everything as though his very world rests on the tip of a pin, teetering on a threshold of griefpainlossangerfury.
(This can't be happening.)
[Yato sees her, still, burned into his eyelids—pretty and pale, lying and waiting. He can feel her skin underneath his palm, the tips of his fingers, as he nudges her. Wake up, he says, wake up. But she is lying and waiting—never waking, and he feels the first sickening curl of furious grief tremble within him.]
(Please, tell me this isn't happening.)
He opens his eyes—blue, cold, furious.
[Vaisravana be damned—the world be damned. He will take back what is his, raise hell to this earth or raze heaven to this very ground. She will regret the day she provoked the wrath of a god of war.]
(a/n: 1. i know that the western version of 'hell' and 'heaven' don't apply so much to japanese shintō and buddhist concepts, but… i liked the line, i suppose. 2. did i mention that this chapter took my heart, ripped it out of my chest, and ate it? because…yeah. also, yatti—don't forget kazuma!) :'(