Hiiro watched from the window as Yaboku slept.
She liked watching him sleep. It reminded her of the first time she'd ever seen him, a tiny infant fast asleep in a crib by a window, wrapped up in a soft off-white blanket, pitch-black hair tousled around his head.
When Father had asked her, she'd told him she wanted to be his little sister. Even if it meant waiting years before she could enter his life, until he'd grown to the age of her physical form. Yes, she recognised it was an odd choice, she was far older than he could even comprehend, but...she'd figured she could grow closer to him if he thought he had to protect her.
She'd wanted the child she'd watched for so long to watch her in return.
All those years, all that time spent watching him grow, Hiiro probably knew him better than anyone in the world, even Father. He was a kind person, almost compulsively, a people pleaser who would do anything to keep everyone happy.
And he was gullible. Incredibly so.
She'd first noticed it with Sakura. While Hiiro had always known that the woman wouldn't last long in their family, Yaboku had warmed up to her the minute she'd walked in. Since she was Father's blood relative, technically, Hiiro couldn't say anything more than vague warnings as she'd waited for the well-intentioned nurse to cross the line.
Giving him that absurd nickname, Yato, hadn't been enough. Making him a paper crown had toed the line, but since Yaboku had been a thickheaded child who hadn't questioned anything, it hadn't been enough to draw Father's attention either.
Attempting to slash Yaboku's heart, though… that had been enough.
Hiiro had been thrilled when she'd spied Sakura sneaking into the ritual room that day to steal Father's knife from his drawers, overjoyed when Father had burst into Yaboku's room to find her perched over him, holding him down, drawing a bloody line to cut out his heart, to free him from Father's magic once and for all.
Father had reached her just in time. He'd dragged her away from his son, flung her out the window before she'd slashed any farther than the top of the kanji letter. All that remained of that impudent nurse now was a pale-pink scar on Yaboku's chest.
A gust of wind blew past Hiiro, whipping her hair aside. She felt the paper crown on her head fly loose. Her hand jabbed out, catching it just in time, yellow paper crinkling under her fingers.
This crown. This dogeared, crumpled crown. She'd taken it because she'd hated it, at first. It had been a symbol of Sakura, the witch who had tried to take her brother away, and she'd worn it with spite, like a trophy.
But as the years went by, she found herself growing used to having it on her head during missions, like it was her own fluffy-fluff scarf. She protected it from the elements, took care not to get it bloodied during Father's errands.
Sakura hadn't just cared about Yaboku. She'd cared about Hiiro too, in her own way. She'd tried to give her little pieces of affection, whether it was in the form of a cookie or more time in bed than Father allowed on her off-days.
It had been nice to have Sakura in the house. She'd made Yaboku happy, in a way neither she nor Father had ever been able to achieve.
Hiiro tied the crown back on, setting her hair around it until the triangle front sat crooked over her forehead. If her brother had still had it, he would've outgrown it in a year. Unlike him, Hiiro would be able to wear it for as long as Father wanted her to live.
A small smile pulled up her lips.
These new friends, they were just like Yaboku, just like Sakura. Kind, well-intentioned, gullible. None of these people should never have crossed paths with a sorcerer, much less one like Father.
Inside his cramped little attic room, Yaboku rolled over in his sleep. He was washed in warmth by the yellow lamp glowing within, his face slack, vulnerable, safe. She reached out, pressing her fingers against the cold windowpane.
He was safe, with these people. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she wished she could end this affair right here, leaving him to sleep blissfully in his new life.
But it was too late. She'd already sowed the seeds of Father's plan in Kazuma.
Nora drew her hand back and tucked it into her baggy sleeve.
After they brought Yaboku back, she would speak with Father. She would persuade him to drop his futile schemes for revenge, to focus on the big picture. They would leave this place, find somewhere new far away from his poisonous kingdom where her brother's blind trust didn't have to be a flaw.
Maybe then, her family could start afresh.
"Good morning, Yukine-kun!"
Yukine groaned, pulling the comforter over his head. So far, this was Yato's third attempt to wake him up before the sun had come up, and the blond was finding his patience wearing thinner and thinner by the minute.
"The sun is up! The birds are chirping!" A singsong voice blared in his ear. "How long are you going to sleep, aren't you bored?"
"Yato, shut the fuck up!" Yukine spat, burying his face in the pillow. "Damn it, I wish you were still in a coma."
"That's not a very nice thing to say." His stupidly self-satisfied roommate was undeterred, his light footsteps dancing by the blond's head. "Especially to someone doing you a favour."
"Favour? What favour?!" Yukine folded the pillow to block out his ears. "Why can't you go bother Hiyori?"
"I did!" He reported cheerily. "She's awake, and she appreciated it!"
"Ughh, leave me alone." Yukine gave up to the pillow, releasing it to curl up into a ball and cover his face with his hands.
"Fine, I will! In fact, here, I won't even try to keep the dust off your face anymore!"
"What are you even talking about?" The teenager muttered, trying his level best to relax back into a doze. "Why do you have to be such a weirdo-"
As he spoke, a cloud of dust billowed onto his face, thick enough to get past the comforter and into his nose. He sneezed, throwing off his blankets and ripping his eyes open to glare madly at the black-haired nuisance. "Yato, you fucking asshole-!"
"You can't say I didn't warn you." Yato chided, waltzing gracefully past. He wore one of Hiyori's ratty green scarves over his mouth and nose, a feather duster in one hand and an old pail in the other. "Lucky for you, I'm almost done, so stay out of my way."
"Done?" Yukine squinted blearily at the room, then sat up immediately, gaping open-mouthed at the scene before him. "Holy shit."
Spotless. The attic was spotless . The floor had been scrubbed until it gleamed, the browning wallpaper pasted down where it'd been peeling. All that was left in the attic was the furniture, broken or not, their mattresses and the miniature lamp by Yukine's bed.
And Yato stood proudly in the middle of it all, pulling down his scarf to grin from ear to ear. "What do you think? You like it?"
"Y-you… I have to be dreaming." Yukine stood to gape at what had once been his unwanted, spider-infested, cramped attic. "Wh-where're the newspapers? And the spare bottles? Kofuku-san's cracked mirrors?!"
"Isn't it obvious?" The lanky young man dabbed the feather duster daintily over the roof of a vampiric closet that had once been buried under a mound of junk. "I got rid of them to make space for you."
"You got rid of them? What does that mean? " He spluttered, bewildered. "You can't throw anything away, that stuff belongs to Daikoku-san, not me-!"
"I didn't throw anything away. I...redistributed them. Downstairs. It's only fair you get a room too." Yato pouted, flicking his bangs out of his eyes dramatically. "I expected you to be happy about this, I thought it's what you wanted."
"I didn't ask you to do this!" Yukine cried, raking his hands through his hair. "Don't tell me you did all this yourself! You could've gotten hurt, you dumbass, some of those things are literally made of broken glass-"
"Well, sorry. I couldn't sleep." The black-haired boy dropped his feather duster to draw his gold coin from his pocket, rubbing it thoughtfully. "Don't worry about me getting hurt, anyway. My heart heals me."
"Did you forget you were nearly dead, like, yesterday?" He demanded, incensed. "Stop treating your body like trash. Keep going like this and you're going to actually die someday, and then you'll wish you weren't such a reckless moron-"
"Okay, okay." Yato held up his hands. "I'll stay in bed next time."
"Why couldn't you sleep, huh? Was it my lamp? Because if it was, you're moving back to Hiyori's room, and I don't care if she snores-"
"Relax, Yukine. It wasn't anything you did." The older boy scratched the back of his ear bashfully. "I just...get nightmares, sometimes."
"Oh." Yukine's gaze swept over him, contemplative. "Nightmares, huh."
"Hah, yeah." Blue eyes flitted up to meet his, then went back to studying his toes. A wry smile curled his lips. "Your lamp is actually pretty helpful with that, it helped me remember where I am. I see why you use it."
"Oh, really?" The blond started, a surprised grin lighting up his face. "You're the first person to get it, everyone else acts like I'm wasting fuel on purpose."
"Anyone who says that to you should spend a night in a tower full of Ayakashi. Let's see who wastes fuel then."
Yato's retort was distant, his gaze straying to the window as if to confirm it was empty. It took a moment before he blinked life back into his eyes.
"Okay! We've wasted enough time. Let's go shopping!"
Yukine blinked, taken aback. "Yato, it's dawn ."
"Not exactly, it's five minutes past dawn." The black-haired boy turned away from him, his footsteps light as he pranced to the trapdoor. "There's no better time. I don't want to waste a single moment of today!"
"Wait!" The teenager jumped up, scurrying behind him. "Don't be stupid, the markets aren't even open yet-"
"Who cares? The markets don't need to be open. All I need is Yukine and Hiyori showing me the city!" The black-haired boy sang, climbing nimbly down the ladder. "Today's about soaking in dreams!"
"Shh." Yukine dragged an exasperated hand over his face, following him down the ladder. "Everyone's asleep, Yato, you'll regret it if you wake Daikoku-san before he's ready-"
"Oh, pfft, come on. Don't you see? We can't regret anything that happens today!"
Landing on his feet, Yato shot him his brightest grin yet, his cheeks flushed pink, sapphire eyes glittering.
"None of that matters, not until tomorrow. Today's the lantern festival!"
The shinki's slippers barely made a sound as she leapt from the city walls and landed on her feet.
"You took quite a while in there, Mizuchi."
Nora straightened up, brushing her robes smooth. One small hand slipped into her pocket, curling around the letter tucked safely inside.
"Yes, Father." She bowed. "I did as you asked."
"Good, good." Father emerged from the shadows of his tree. His bushy hair was already limp, the corners of his mouth sprouting deep lines. He was wearing his robe looser, to hide how skeletal his belly had become. "How is Yaboku? Is he unharmed?"
"Yes, Father. They haven't told him anything. I doubt they will, either, they have a good idea about how impulsive he is." She said in her flat, tinkling voice, holding out the letter. He raised it to eye-level, squinting at the neat cursive.
"...Maximus, captain of the guard?" He read, giving her a skeptical look. "They're a gang of thieves. How can they request a secret audience with a captain?"
Nora shrugged ambivalently, to Father's amusement.
"Corruption in the streets of Takamagahara, what blasphemy. Maybe hiding in your castle grieving your heir for twenty years isn't a sound ruling practice after all." The old man ruffled his shinki's hair, and she could feel firsthand how papery thin his skin had already become. "This is splendid news. You did well, my girl."
"Thank you, Father." Mizuchi whispered. Her large dark eyes trailed up to his. "What do you think we should do next?"
"Send them a reply." He said sleekly, his beady eyes fixed on the city walls. "Set their meeting at the abandoned dock, where the guards are fewest. Specify that they must bring Yaboku, I'll take care of the rest. And keep tabs on the real Maximus, we can't have dear Kazuma bumping into him anytime soon."
"Alright." The girl took the chit back, folding it into her pocket. "How long do you need? Should I have them meet this afternoon?"
"No, no, that would be too soon." He shook his head. "Keep it after the lantern festival, that way it'll be nice and dark."
She cocked her head. "You're going to let Yaboku see the lanterns? Is that a good idea?"
"Why not? Don't you want him to have the night he's dreamed of?" The old man smiled a thin, sardonic smile. "I want to give his friends time, Mizuchi. Time to fill his head with lies and hopes, new dreams. That way, when they break his heart, every memory he's made here will be poisoned. He'll come running right back to me, and he'll never try to leave again."
"Hmm." Nora lowered her head, her fingers knotted together.
"You're a good girl." He placed his hand on her head, putting his weight on it as if to use her as a walking stick. "Don't worry. Our spell-circle around the city is almost complete. Once we get Yaboku to cooperate, we will be able to blow their borderline sky-high and rid the world of our enemies, forever." He winked. "Sound like a plan?"
She nibbled at her painted lip. Her voice came out hoarse, no louder than a whisper.
"And then we can...leave, right?" She sounded far too weak, so she cleared her throat determinedly. "You told me, after this is all over, we would go find somewhere to call home, just the three of us. A safe place, somewhere far away-"
"Of course, my girl." His eyes were beady and black, still fixed on the stone walls separating him from his kingdom. They gleamed, like cat's before it pounced. "After this is over, we shall do whatever you like."
She nodded. That was a better answer than she'd expected. She could work with that.
"Now, go. Do what I've told you to, and protect him, Mizuchi." He let her go, patting her shoulder with an air of finality. "Not a finger should land on my heart."
She turned her back to him obediently, readying herself to climb back over the walls.