Ah, Kazuma, how many times do you owe me now?
Kazuma sank onto the rim of the shallow fountain in the town square, resting his chin on his hands. He watched people walk about the market, minding their own business with bags of groceries or little children bouncing by their sides.
He sighed as a mother passed by him, gripping her toddlers' hands. She was smiling, the mother, laughingly reprimanding the children as they splashed into every mossy puddle they could find.
How could she stand it, having someone to protect? Having to keep secrets, to do everything alone for their own good, even if they hated her for it?
How many times do you owe me now? Are you keeping track?
Kazuma groaned, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index finger. Seeing him again, especially like that, hurting and covered in blight, with that stubborn smile persisting through it all…
He wished he'd given up and died when the Ayakashi wolf had bitten him. At least he wouldn't have had to deal with this pressing ache in his chest, this guilt .
He owed him so much, and it just kept mounting up. He hadn't done a goddamn thing to repay him.
He didn't deserve him as a friend.
"What changed your mind, Kazuma?"
A high, tinkling voice at his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts. He glimpsed at the young girl who had plopped down beside him, surprised.
"Hello. Do I know-"
"What changed your mind?" The girl looked up at him with shockingly black eyes. "You were quiet for five years . I used to keep an eye on you, but you were just so good and sensible that I didn't bother causing a fuss."
Kazuma widened his eyes, recognising her. The little girl in the snow-white robes, with that crown in her bobbed hair... "You-!"
"It worked out for the both of us, didn't it?" The girl spoke nonchalantly, a small, smug sneer on her red lips. "You got to live your mediocre life in peace, and I didn't have to waste my time cleaning up a mess. I thought we could trust you, Kazuma."
The brunet got to his feet, one hand on the carved dagger at his waist. "Leave us alone, cursed spirit. Shinki cannot hurt us in this city."
Her eyes flicked to his hand, her smile unwavering. "Don't make a scene. I have something important to tell you."
"I have no interest in anything Fujisaki has to say-"
"Fujisaki isn't telling you anything. I am."
Kazuma studied her suspiciously, setting himself down on the very edge of the fountain, one hand still on the dagger.
"You don't need to be afraid, Kazuma. I won't attack you." The girl smirked. "Not until the time is right."
The bespectacled man tensed, much to her amusement. "What do you want to tell me?"
"Oh, just a story." The little girl stood up on the fountain's rim, balancing on the edge. "The story of why Yaboku has my father's heart."
"What?" He stared at her. "You mean, metaphorically, or-"
"Literally." She smirked. "I'm sure you know, my father had had his heart cut out by the King before he was exiled."
"Yes, but-"
"My father was once a very powerful sorcerer." The girl continued nonchalantly. "After his heart was cut out, the magic within it refused to be destroyed. As he was being exiled, Father sent me back to steal it from the palace so that he could reabsorb its essence.
"Unfortunately, he overestimated his physical strength. He's lived so long that his natural body has deteriorated. The heart's magic refused to accept him, so he decided that he needed a vessel, young and malleable, who could channel magic into his spells for him.
"He had heard, just before he'd left into his exile, about the new prince being born. The King had been anticipating it for months, they wouldn't shut up about it. And a newborn child was about as young and malleable as you can get, don't you agree?"
Kazuma frowned, alarmed with the direction this tale was taking. "You can't be serious. What are you suggesting?"
"Exactly what you think." She said sweetly. "A precious child, a dangerous child to have. Father cloaked our tower with all the magic he could channel, he raised my brother to fear everything and everyone but us. His parents have gone mad with grief, you see, we couldn't risk him being found. Who knows what they'll do, to see their precious child bearing an evil sorcerer's heart?
"Yaboku is a burden you cannot bear, Kazuma. You're way out of your depth. Give him to us, and we'll go our merry way. You know what happens to outlaws who try their hand at the spotlight, especially with rulers as unreasonable as yours.
"It's your choice." The girl leaned in close to whisper in his ear. "Imagine the scandal if the King finds you now, with a mutilated prince and his crown in your attic. Which of you will he execute first, I wonder?"
The shinki's purr was interrupted by a piercing cry.
"Kazuma!"
The brunet's head whipped to the side as Veena sprinted towards them. Letting out a giggle, the little girl hopped off the fountain, scurrying into the evening crowd.
"Where'd she go?! Where's that little brat?" The blonde demanded, her dagger gleaming under her sleeve as her eyes scanned the crowd.
"Put your weapons away, Veena. You'll cause a panic, we're in the market." Kazuma stood up, his hands in front of him.
"But that's Fujisaki's brat! I knew we should've incapacitated her back at the tower, but I couldn't hurt a girl as tiny as that. Stupid of me, I should've-!"
"She's a shinki, Veena. A bound spirit. She can't hurt anyone inside the city's borderlines." The brunet shook his head. "We have more important things to worry about right now-"
"What did she say to you? Why is she here? What's Fujisaki planning?" Veena shot out, sticking her dagger back into its sheath. Kazuma rubbed her back soothingly to calm her.
"He's making empty threats, as we expected. He can't do anything to us right now, I told you."
"Slimy bastard. Next time I see his shinki, I'll show her what we think of exiled sorcerers." She lifted her chin arrogantly, before pausing and glancing back at him. "Wait a second. Why are you here? Didn't Mayu show up?"
Kazuma, who had just opened his mouth to voice what he had learnt, deflated. "Uh, yes, she did. Hiyori and Yukine are with her."
"Hiyori and Yukine? Why aren't you with them!? You know they haven't slept all night-!"
"Daikoku is there too, downstairs. Look, Veena, there's something important I think we need to consider. It's about Yato-"
"Don't change the subject! What are you doing, putting more responsibility on Daikoku's shoulders?! Isn't it enough that we live in his house? I can't believe you're so irresponsible!"
"But Veena-"
"This isn't like you! Leaving two children alone with Tenjin's healer-"
"Leave it alone!" Kazuma yelled, interrupting her tirade. Bishamon blinked at him, flabbergasted as the brunet curled his hands into fists, hanging his head in shame. "You don't… you won't understand, Veena. I couldn't...I can't be in that house right now. I can't just watch while he's suffering because of me."
Silently, Veena took him by the shoulders. One hand tucked under his chin, she lifted it up, forcing him to meet her eyes. "You can't blame yourself, Kazuma. You aren't the source of his pain, this time or the last. There's one enemy we have, one source of evil we must eliminate."
Her eyes were dark, flashing. A cold grimace twisted her lips.
"Fujisaki. Fujisaki has tried to kill you twice now. He is the source of Yato's pain. And I swear to all the gods that I will kill him for it." She stepped back, already looking away at the street that led home. "But I need you to help me, Kazuma. Help me kill him, and we can finally right our wrongs."
That's right. She was right.
He had always known he was the one to temper Veena, to keep her from making rash decisions. Somewhere along that path, he'd grown selfish, afraid, he'd stopped listening to her.
But he was listening now, and he knew she was right.
"Oh, Veena." Kazuma couldn't hold back his adoring smile.
The last time he'd backed out of a mission, it had been a stubborn, cowardly act. He wasn't going to make that mistake again.
"I won't fail you." He declared, pushing away any bit of shame that threatened to buckle his knees. "In fact, I think Fujisaki's shinki just handed us the perfect cards to play."
Hiyori hadn't pegged Yato to be picky about the way he dressed.
"Really, Yato, won't one of my scarves do?" The brunette stood by the black-haired boy with an armful of fabric as he dug vengefully through Kazuma's closet.
"Nope." Yato replied obstinately, throwing another blanket into the pile in her arms. "Yours don't cover up enough. They're all thin and...loopy."
The trio were in Kazuma's room, since Yato had figured his friend would be grateful enough at the moment to lend him clothing, at least. Yukine was leaning against the closet, arms crossed over his chest, providing the occasional sarcastic barb to lighten the mood.
"Hey, Yato." The blond snarked, on cue. "If you want a raggy bib like the last one, we could get you a dishcloth from the bar."
" Excuse me, it was a scarf, not a dishcloth!" The older boy shot back.
Hiyori raised her eyebrows, shifting to balance yet another potential scarf candidate in her bundle. "Seriously, though, don't you think you can use one of this lot? There are a lot of towels in here, you could tear one up into the right shape."
He threw her a sulky look. "None of them are soft enough."
"Then why am I holding them?!"
"Because you burnt my fluffy-fluff scarf!"
Hiyori gasped, indignant, dropping the bundle onto the floor. "I had to, you'd puked blood on it. I did the same thing to your jacket, why is your scarf so special?"
"But you burnt it!" Yato got to his feet, one hand clutching the collar of his black tunic. "I could've washed it clean!"
"No, you couldn't have! It was disgusting, and, I don't know, infectious or something."
"It wasn't infectious!" The blue-eyed boy protested. "It was very clean, I blow-dried it everyday-"
"It was covered in blood!" The brunette threw her hands out, furious. "You were struggling to breathe because of the stink, was I supposed to leave you that way? Sorry I didn't keep your stinky stained clothes in a basket waiting for you!"
"I could've washed them-!"
"They were covered in blood , you halfwit!"
"Okay, that's it." Yukine inserted himself between them, hands out. "If you guys yell anymore Daikoku will come upstairs, and I'm not going to be here for that."
Hiyori paused, suddenly aware of how hot her face was, how animated her gestures had become. She dropped her hands, mortified. Hotheadedness was Yukine's thing. She was supposed to be the cool, calculated criminal, how was Yato so good at pushing her buttons?
It was a relief to see that he was in a similar state, though. His cheeks cotton-candy pink, he was gripping his collar tightly, gaze trained obstinately away from her.
"Sorry." He muttered. "I put you through a lot of trouble."
She pursed her lips. "Likewise, I guess." She mused. "Maybe I shouldn't have burnt it, but in my defence, that's what we usually do to clothes we vomit on."
"Eugh." The black-haired boy shuddered. "In my defence, Nora and Father don't tell me what happens to me nearly as much as you do."
Hiyori laughed at that, and Yukine blew out a breath, relaxing his stance. "Phew, okay. Let's put these clothes away before Kazuma-san sees them."
"Wait, wait!" Yato interjected, a bit desperately. "We still haven't found my replacement scarf!"
The blond rolled his eyes. "Aw, Yato, come on. We'll get you one from the market tomorrow."
"But…" He looked down at the hand he'd fisted his collar in. "Can I at least get a shirt with a higher neck?"
"Why?" Hiyori frowned. She stepped over the pile of clothes she'd dropped on the floor to approach him. "What is up with you? What're you hiding?"
"Nothing." He flinched away from her.
"Tell me, please. I know I can be mean, but I promise I won't judge. I'm studying to be a healer, after all." Her mind shifted to her textbooks, to the various deformities their pages contained, the scar tissue, the burns, the lumpy welts.
Vivid blue eyes glanced up to meet hers for a moment, and she thought she knew what he was going to say...until he said it.
"This is why you took off my scarf, isn't it? You looked up my shirt while I was asleep!"
Heat flooded up into her face, all the way to the tips of her ears.
"I didn't. Why would I be asking you about it if I did?" She was glad her voice sounded reasonable.
His, however, did not. "This always happens, that's all it is with you people! Why can't you respect privacy?! You, Nora, Father most of all- "
She was paralysed with outrage, barely able to squeeze her words out. "What the hell? I didn't-! I'm not a pervert!"
"Pervert-?! Wait, not like that!" Yato shouted back, just as defensively. "Though it is perverted of you to look at my heart without my permission!"
And, of course, it was his heart, yet again.
Yukine covered his face with his hands, looking like he wanted to sink into the floor.
Hiyori took a deep breath, composing herself. This was a communication issue, she had dealt with those before. After all, she bargained with bandits and royal horsemen on a daily basis, and she lived with Yukine . That was more than enough preparation.
She plastered an amiable, if deadly smile on her face.
"Yato." She began pleasantly. "If you accuse me of being a bounty hunter one more time, I will kick you."
"I'm not . I know you're not." The black-haired boy scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "I just...I don't like people looking at my heart. It's ugly."
"Huh?"
"It's ugly." Yato released his collar, pulling it down with one slender finger. "See?"
There, on his chest under his throat, was a brand. Crimson as a fresh wound, it was the kanji letter for night, ya , spiky and misaligned as if written by someone with shaking hands. Next to it, nearly touching the sloping top of the letter, was a smooth pink scar, clearly intending to slash through it.
He pulled up his shirt quickly enough, glowing with embarrassment. "I hate it, but everyone keeps trying to look at it."
"This is your heart? I thought..." She'd imagined a much more barbaric scene, when he'd said hunters wanted to cut it out. Not that this wouldn't be barbaric, but...
"The heart of my magic." He clarified. "A seal to keep my strength in me. Father has one too, but his is dead."
Things began to connect in Hiyori's head. She was sure if she'd been more interested in sorcerers before this, she would have known about this already.
"I see." She reached out as if petting a stray cat, waiting for him to balk. When he didn't, she touched his chest with the tips of her fingers, tugging the neck of his tunic down an inch until the scar was seen.
The kanji ya , the first letter of the boy's name, burned into his skin. Something told her that this was the sorcerer Fujisaki's handwriting, that he'd branded his son like cattle. It sounded like something he'd do.
Her eyes flitted up to meet his, cerulean blue pools clear enough to fall headfirst into.
"Your handwriting's lousy. What, were you drunk when you wrote that?" Yukine snarked, interrupting the moment.
"I didn't write it, jerk. I was born with it." Yato pulled away, her fingers slipping from his shirt.
"Hah, that's even worse. With bounty hunters all around the world after it, you'd think at least the lines would be straight." The blond grinned. "I don't know if it's worth the effort to sail the seven seas only to cut out a wonky ya ."
"Shut up!" The taller boy wrenched his collar up, his face pink. "Bounty hunters don't care how it looks. I'm a powerful sorcerer, even your healer knew it!"
"Powerful sorcerer, yeah right. I knew we should've warned Mayu-san not to call you that."
"I'm more of a sorcerer than you." Yato retorted huffily. "As if you'd understand the intricacies of what I do!"
"Intricacies, sure . All you can do is heal, and you can't even do that without passing out for days."
"It was one day, and I did a great job! You don't deserve me!"
Hiyori smiled. There was a warm feeling growing in her chest as she watched them bicker, a fondness that seemed out of place at the moment.
Yato suited Yukine so well. She hadn't seen anyone take the kid's teasing good-naturedly before. They fit together, the two of them.
It was a random thought, but it made her smile.
Yukine drew back, ready to reply with another stinging retort, only for the words to dry up on his tongue. The front door had just banged open.
"Someone's back." Hiyori turned her wide eyes to the other two, ducking down to pick up the clothes on the floor. "Help me pick up!"
"Shit, shit, shit." Yukine dived down to help. "Maybe it's Daikoku-san , maybe he-"
"Hiyori, Yukine! Come out here this minute."
Oh no. Of all the people it could've been, it was Bishamon-san. Hiyori's heart sank, feeling her will to live wither. To be caught in Bishamon-san's room while she wasn't home was the last thing she'd planned to do.
"Daikoku-san tells me Mayu left in five minutes, with no explanation. ...What did you say to her?!"