.
.
The stars were out tonight, and beneath the great expanse of dark sky one could see the small silhouettes of a nameless god and his shinki walking along the river.
"Look, Yukine," Yato said, and he pointed. "You can see the unicorn."
"Pegasus," Yukine said, automatically. Yato frowned and squinted.
"Yo Yukine, I'm pretty sure it's a unicorn."
"Tch."
"Gods are always right, Yukine! What do I have to tell you?"
They stood at the riverbank, looking upwards. "That one looks like a walrus," Yato said, and he traced the pattern with his hand. "See that circle, Yukine? That totally makes a walrus."
"That's Ursa Major, Yato."
"Eh?"
Yukine pointed. "That star right there is Epsulon Ursae Majoris. You can tell 'cuz if you trace the stars around it, it looks like a ladle."
"Hah? That looks like a box of cereal to me."
"That's the big dipper."
"I thought ya said it was a bear?"
Yukine sighed. "The big dipper is part of Ursa Major."
Yato grinned and ruffled his hair.
xXx
.
It was a nice night. There was just a sliver of moon above them, but it still shone just as brightly as if it were full. Yukine walked with his hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on the fireflies darting across the horizon, and didn't make mention of the Kazuma debacle that took place a few hours before.
"Yukine-san, please forgive us," Kinuha said. "We didn't come to Kazuma-san meaning to undermine you."
At the time, Yato had braced himself for the crack to widen, expecting another outbrust or flashback of memories. But there was none. "It's okay," Yukine kept saying. "Kazuma was your leader. It's only natural you'd want to work with him."
Yato watched, silently. In his mind's eye, Yukine's name didn't waver.
He wasn't technically lying when he told Kinuha about those energy fluctuations. Divine garments do take less energy to manifest than weapons. But the energy difference was negligible, unless one shinki was actually being active doing something. And it just so happened that weapons tended to do more things than divine garments.
What he didn't tell everyone, though, was that those energy differences didn't actually tax him. It was just something he noticed, like if he was running, how the muscles of his legs would get a little more tired than the muscles in his arms. If he was running around and swinging a sword, the degree of tiredness from his individual limbs didn't really matter.
"Hey, Yato?" Yukine's voice interrupted Yato's thoughts.
"Yeah?" Yato said. Yukine frowned.
"I know you released Kazuma-san because of me."
Yato opened his mouth to speak, then thought the better of it. Yukine continued.
"I'm sorry," Yukine said. "I know I've been acting selfishly, but I really want what's best for you. And Kazuma-san would have been a good addition to the team. I think he could have really worked well with you."
"Yukine," Yato said. "What the others said...it didn't bother you?" Yukine shook his head.
"I don't care what they think, Yato." Yukine kept his eyes fixed on the horizon. "You're my master. I don't care what the others think of me."
"I was thinking you might get upset," Yato said. Yukine shook his head.
"They were telling the truth. They'd rather work with Kazuma-san. I'd rather they say it to my face instead of lying to me."
"Oh," Yato said. He scratched his foot against his leg, awkwardly.
"You know, Yukine, not all lies are bad." Yato fiddled with his sleeves. "Sometimes people lie to protect other people. Sometimes they don't have a choice."
"People only lie 'cuz they don't want to face the consequences," Yukine said. He looked out across the river, at the trickle of moonlight skimming the water.
"I know that you lie to me sometimes, Yato. And I really wish you wouldn't."
Yato looked at him evenly. "What do you mean, Yukine?"
"I mean, when you went to work with Nora behind my back. Or when you didn't tell me about your past. I hope you know you can be honest with me."
Yukine looked out across the river. In the darkness, Yato could just barely make out his features, which seemed impossibly placid. Calm.
"Yato," Yukine said, and his eyes slid upwards, meeting his. "The images I've been seeing. They're memories, aren't they?"
Yato's eyes widened.
"You can tell me," Yukine said. "I already know about your past. There isn't anything you need to hide from me."
Yato didn't look at him. "I don't want to lie to you anymore, Yukine," Yato said. "But you need to understand that there are some things I can't answer."
"Because you don't trust me?" The question was loaded, but the strength in his name didn't waver.
"No," Yato said. "Because there are some things a shinki just can't know."
Yukine nodded quietly. "Fair enough," Yukine said, and he tossed a rock into the river.
xXx
.
After a few hours, Yukine finally fell into a restless sleep.
There was a sound, and Yukine's eyes jerked open. The attic was dark except for the small lamp Yukine kept lit next to the futon, and across from him, Nana was snoring. Yato's futon was empty.
Yato was out again - it wasn't unusual for Yato to disappear in the middle of the night, and before Kazuma taught him how to see with his mind, Yukine would panic, would think that Yato was out talking to Nora or Father or somehow disappeared in Yomi. Yukine closed his eyes and felt around for a trace of Yato's life signature, and felt it flickering around the riverside where they had been walking earlier.
He probably wanted to be alone with his thoughts at the moment. Yukine wouldn't begrudge him that. Yato had seemed visibly shaken when Yukine had asked about the images, and as he lay in the futon he realized the reason why.
Those images weren't just images. They were memories. Yato's memories. Memories of Yato's father.
Yukine's fist tightened. The memories themselves didn't make any sense, but what Yukine could piece out were the feelings - hopelessness, abandonment. Hurt and despair and a heart-shattering, soul piercing rage. "My dad is an asshole," Yato had told everyone, but Yukine knew the extent to it. He thought about the dogs in masks, how Nora spoke to him. He knew that as a small child, Yato had been abused.
He threw off the futon cover. He didn't like walking out into the dark alone, but the moon was out and now was the only time. He could only do this while Yato was gone.
"The hell are you doin'?" Nana said.
Yukine turned. Nana, who had been snoring in the futon in the corner, had somehow woken up - apparently Yukine's hostility and anger was enough to shake her from her sleep, and she sat up on the futon, crossing her arms.
"Nothing," Yukine said. He turned back toward the attic door. "Go back to sleep, Nana."
Nana gave him a look, like she was deciding whether or not she wanted to argue with him, then asked, "so if you're going, can I turn off the light, then?"
"Yeah," Yukine said. "Knock yourself out."
Nana grinned, then gave the cord to the lamp an expert tug, until the lamp was close enough for her to switch off. Yukine sighed heavily and walked downstairs.
The courtyard in front of Kofuku's little store was eerily quiet, and as Yukine's eyes adjusted to the dark he could just make out the large, looming shapes of wooden beams and cheerful flags hanging above him.
The heavens have been trying to find Yato's dad for the past few months now, but none of them had Kazuma's navigational ability, and only Yukine knew how to use it. Quietly he closed his eyes and let his mind spread out like a thin blanket, tendrils of consciousness searching and reaching every corner.
There. Yukine's eyes opened. The signature was faint - something human, but also inhuman, a soul that was split, not unlike Hiyori's. He leaped onto the fence and squinted his eyes at the dark.
xXx
.
Yukine ran. His feet pounded against the pavement as he followed the signal that was flickering in front of him like a beacon. None of the trains were running and he wasn't sure he would get there on time.
"Yukine-san."
Yukine looked up. Kuraha's iguana form ambled forward, stepping into the ring of light from the street lamps above him. "You seem to be in a hurry, Yukine-san."
Yukine threw a glance back at the horizon; the signal wasn't moving, but he wasn't sure how long it would still be there.
"Sorry, Kurane, there's somewhere I have to be right now," Yukine said. Kuraha's tongue flickered.
"Perhaps it would be quicker if I take you there?"
Yukine glanced back at him. Kuraha's eyes slid toward him like marbles. His large tail swished like a prehistoric oar.
The sorcerer was a good twenty kilometers away from them, right at the edge of the city's periphery. Even though he was a shinki, there was no way he could make it there on foot. He looked at Kurane and nodded.
"Yeah," Yukine said. "Maybe if you drop me off somewhere close by?"
"I would be happy to, Yukine-san. Please get on my back. If you feel like you're about to slip, go ahead and hang on to my scales."
"Thanks, Kurane," Yukine said, and he jumped on.
The iguana soared. Cutting through the darkness, Yukine held on to the tufts of Kuraha's fringe and squinted his eyes against the gusts of wind blowing past him. Dark clouds flew by on either side, and below him, he could see the lights of the city spanning across the dark landscape like stars. Good thing I'm not afraid of heights, Yukine thought. Kuraha bounded through the crowds before landing gracefully onto an open field.
"We are here, Yukine-san. Although I don't see much of anything around here. I take it this field is where you and the Yatogami hone your combat skills?"
"Not exactly. I'm just going to take a look around," Yukine said. "Don't wait for me, I'll take the train home afterwards."
The iguana nodded gravely.
"Train well, Yukine-san. I shall see you at breakfast later this morning."
"Er, okay," Yukine said, nodding. The iguana gave him one last nod before leaping out into the dark.