Part 3: Chapter 9

Sadly, I do not own the anime: Noragami.

Time: The next morning.

Wind and rain that darkened the land, pelted on the roof, and hammered against the window. Wonder how Musik and Melody are taking this weather, Hiyori wondered, still beneath her blankets. Bishamon, who had more shrines than any self-respecting god could ever need, had pointed a rarely visited one out to the duo. It would give them some shelter against phantoms and the weather, but it wasn't a place one would want to stay. Certainly not in this. The house shook as the heavens threw a barrage of lightning and thunder at her city, making it a day to stay inside.

Still, the girl rose and went through her usual morning routine. Not really knowing what to wear in such weather, she choose black jeans and a black shirt. She tried wearing a bright-yellow raincoat, then abandoned it when it hindered her movements too much.

I really hope spirits aren't lightning-rod material, Hiyori told herself, not quite making it a prayer as she stepped outside. She spent her usual hour circling her house, quickly eradicating every phantom she saw. She also made a quick run to the hospital to thin out the ones there, but as usual in there it was a lost cause.

That done, Hiyori gladly returned home to stand outside her bedroom window. In there I'm so nice and warm and dry, but out here I'm . . . . She looked down at herself. With a weary sigh, she entered through the porch door where she shed her clothes, then made straight for the washroom to dry off with a towel before returning to her body. She knew if she looked she would see a puddle of water, but no clothes where she'd dropped them. Strange how that works, she mused, sinking back into the comfort of her bed, longing for more rest after the nightmare of the previous day.

Then, feeling guilty, she rose with a deep sigh to wipe up the wet footsteps she'd made, checking that they hadn't stained anything, or made anything wet that shouldn't be wet. Back in her room she eyed her bed, called by the lure of warm blankets that she could pull over her head to try in vain to block some of the booming and the flashes that periodically shook and lit her room. Maybe even sleep to help her forget for a short while.

Instead she made her way to her sister's room and tapped on the door, loud enough to get her sister's attention if she was awake, but not so loud that it would wake her if she was actually asleep.

A few moments later the door cracked open just enough to let her see the brown hair of her sister and a single brown eye amidst a pale, frightened face. When she saw it was Hiyori the fear faded and the door opened a little wider.

"Frightened," Hiyori asked as she stepped into the room that now sported a bed with pink blankets and a few stuffed animals. Even such minor changes made it look vastly different from when it'd been her brother's bedroom. Her sister was wearing pink pajamas, and with each boom that seemed to pound the house her eyes flickered first to the left, then to the right.

Yua shook her head.

Hiyori stared, eyebrows raised.

"I'm not afraid of the lightning," the young girl insisted.

"Something else, then?"

The girl looked down and started wringing her hands together.

"Yua," Hiyori started, feeling lost and useless as she tried to figure out the girl's fear. "You don't have to handle things alone anymore. In this household you have mom and dad, who are your mom and dad now, and me. I swear I'll be your big sister in any way I can."

Yua looked down, then peered at Hiyori out of the corner of her eye, looking worried as well as scared.

Oh, Hiyori thought, I see. "You came to my room, didn't you, and I was . . . um . . . asleep? And you were worried about me."

"I'm sorry." Yua didn't look up.

Hiyori shook her head and smiled, pulling the girl in for a hug. "For what?" she asked. "If you ever need anything you can always ask me. And I don't mind you going into my room." She released the girl who took two quick steps back. "So, what did you want?"

"Nothing."

"Um, sure," Hiyori said, smiling.

"I, just, um, . . . ." Yua looked at the window that was lit-up with lightning strikes.

"The house does have a lightning rod, or whatever it's called," Hiyori told the girl. "It won't hit the house."

Yua shook her head. "I'm not afraid of lightning," she repeated. "But . . . ." She took a deep breath. "Can people escape jail when it's like this. If the power there goes out, and the cell doors are no longer locked, . . . ." Her voice trembled, on the verge of tears.

Oh, she's afraid her father will get out, Hiyori realized. "I doubt it. There're storms all the time, and it's very rare for anyone to escape. He's still where he belongs, in his cell."

"Oh." The girl gave a sigh of relief.

"Come on," Hiyori said, tugging at the girl's hand. "We'll have a sister-to-sister chat. You can tell me more about Eiko's school."

She was up most of the night worrying about her father, Hiyori mused just five minutes later, watching the girl who was deep asleep, softly snoring. But she needed someone, and I didn't show up until an hour later. I don't know which god arranged this, but they're right; being a big sister will keep me grounded in the world of the living.

She settled down, tried to ignore the thunder, which thankfully seemed to be moving away, and fell asleep herself.

An hour later small hands were shaking at her, gently, as if the person didn't know if they wanted to wake her or not. Opening her eyes she saw Yua with the scared expression back on her face.

"There's someone outside," the girl whispered. "They're trying to get in."

Hiyori listened. Outside the storm had waned quite a bit, but the occasional clap of thunder could still be heard. Between the claps she could barely hear knocking. She already knew the person doing the knocking was dead.

"It's not your father," she told the girl. "He's too prideful to knock like that. He would be loud."

Yua froze for a second, giving it some thought. "You're right," she said, looking relieved.

She followed Hiyori out to the front door, which when opened revealed a miserable looking, soaking wet Umiha.

"Message," she said, holding out an envelope. "Bishamon said it was to answer your question. Should I wait for you to give a reply?"

Hiyori reach out and pulled the woman inside. She looked at Yua, "Yua, this is Umiha. She's sort of a bodyguard for a big shot." The girl blinked as if just seeing the regalia.

Hiyori looked at Umiha. "Umiha, this is Yua, my sister."

For a moment there was confusion on the woman's face as she looked between Hiyori and Yua.

She's only just accepting that I'm still alive, Hiyori mused to herself. "Yua, get our guest some hot chocolate." She took the envelope which, having survived the storm, couldn't be paper, and took out something that looked a lot like what Izanami wrote her messages on. It read:

Andeddo Pabu, Kabuki-cho.

An address? Why would she be sending me an address? In response to my question? Hmm. What question? Oh, I asked where I could find Noras.

"No reply," she told Umiha who was looking at her as if she had two head, or was a corpse that'd come back to life. "Just tell her thanks, that I really appreciate it."

Yua handed Umiha a towel. A minute later, when Umiha had dried some of the water off herself, she handed the woman a cup of hot chocolate.

Umiha stared at the cup.

"It must be cold in this rain," Hiyori said. "Drink." She looked at the water that was still dripping off the woman. "How long were you outside?" she asked.

Umiha blushed, then shrugged sheepishly with a smile. "Quite a while. I wasn't sure if this was the place." She looked around. "It not the sort of place I was expecting you to live at."

"Oh, what were you expecting?"

"Well." Umiha looked around. "I don't really know. But this certainly wasn't it. I guess I was expecting something not ordinary. A temple, perhaps."

"Oh." Hiyori smiled and looked at the message again. "Be sure to tell her I said thanks. I really appreciate this."

"I will."

Hiyori looked at a curious Yua, wondering what she would remember when Umiha was gone. Would the memory be forgotten, or would it rework itself into something that didn't include Umiha.

Later that evening, Hiyori stalked the halls of her school, counting every yen she'd been able to get her hands on. It's a pub, she told herself, so how do I get in? You need to be twenty, which I neither look, nor have an id for. Would going in as a spirit be okay? I mean, a Nora would be able to see me, so no big deal, right? Frig! I don't know. And the cover charge? I could leave it in their cash register. Just sneaking in without paying would be wrong, though lately my morals have become quite a bit more relaxed. She shook her head, wanting to tear at her hair in frustration. For some reason sneaking in my first pub just feels wrong, she told herself, and so . . . .

Coming to a stop, she opened the door to one of the school's computer labs. As expected she saw a dozen students who, like her, were skipping their last class. But unlike her they'd probably skipped all of their classes. As a spirit she'd roamed the hallways of her school, always keeping out of the private areas, of course. But during that time she'd seen dark things, and funny things, as well as weird things and some just insane things. And she'd seen . . . .

Taking a deep breath, Hiyori looked around the room again, cringing at how her entrance had drawn the stares of everyone in it. Of course, given how her mother had stripped her a while back, she was somewhat famous; unfortunately.

Quite a few of the students wore their school uniform in a sloppy fashion that didn't quite meet school regulations, while some were picture perfect. None of them wore their uniform like a regular student would. They tended to be skinny, or on the heavy side. Only one or two actually looked fit. Well over half wore glasses, while they all had pocket protectors. This was the den of the nerds. Technically she was a nerd too, but these were the uber nerds who would make even the succubus enhanced her look below average in comparison.

Ignoring the stares, which were merely curious and not hostile, she turned and walked over to one boy who possessed short, black hair and soft, brown eyes, and who sat at a terminal, glancing between it and her. He was one of the few who looked fit and whose uniform was picture perfect.

"Id," Hiyori said, speaking low so that only he would hear the ever-so-wrong request.

He remained quiet, looking at her as if puzzled.

"Um," Hiyori said, wondering what was wrong.

"Id?" he repeated.

"A fake id." Hiyori spoke calmly, but her heart was racing. This is dumb, she told herself. Just sneak in. Getting a fake id is insane. And if Akira and Aimi and Eiko were to find out I went to a club without them, . . . . Well, it wouldn't be pretty.

"I don't know what you mean," the boy said. "But I'm pretty sure the school wouldn't like it."

He's threatening to report me. Her stomach twisted, and she began to feel slightly ill at the thought of what she would say to her parents. But you know, while I've seen him make ids, it might be only for friends, or people he can trust. With his grades he wouldn't be kicked out; it would affect his class average too much, but he wouldn't just make one for a random stranger. Especially one with my reputation. But I was intrigued and watched him make them. I also learned that . . . .

"I wonder what a certain someone would say if she knew you use an anagram of her name as your password?" Hiyori asked with a smile.

The boy's eyes widened.

"Or that you hacked into the school computers to fix a student's absency report. That you also set up a backdoor to those computers."

The boy gulped.

"Or that porn site you frequent so much using school computers." Hiyori gave that some thought. "Why use the school computer's for that?" she asked. "You have a laptop."

The boy started to turn white.

"Or that you write adult fan fiction? I'll admit some of it's pretty good."

"You can't know that," the boy said. "Someone might've seen me enter my password, but you're just making wild guesses."

"Your password to the site where you post your fan fiction is . . ." Hiyori leaned close and whispered it. Then, smiling, she spelled out the password he used for porn sites. "But the same password for all of the porn sites?" she asked, standing back up. "Isn't that sort of unsafe? And do people really like that kind of porn? Seems a bit weird to me."

The boy was quiet, but his face was no longer white; it was a bright, crimson red from embarrassment.

Hiyori opened her mouth again.

"Okay, okay," the boy said, practically shrieking as he looked around the room. "And you don't report me, okay?"

Hiyori blinked, realizing how she sounded. "Either way I wouldn't report you," she hurried to assure the boy. "I just wanted to prove I knew you made fake ids. I need one, and you're the only person I know who can get me one."

With none-too-steady hands, the boy took her picture. Within a minute he was typing, setting the fake info on the fake id. "You don't want to go with twenty," he told her.

"Why?"

"When someone looks underage and has an id that shows them to be twenty, it's seen as a red flag. But if you make it twenty-two then they'll think you're just young looking." He shrugged. "Everyone who gets a fake id gets one that barely makes them of legal age, so when you boost the age a little it throws anyone checking it off."

"Oh. Guess I'm twenty-two then." She shook her head and grinned. "Sheesh, those six years passed pretty quick; I can't even remember them."

"Name?"

"Hiyori Iki."

He looked up from the computer. "Your real name on the id?"

"Oh. Um . . . . " Something with meaning. I don't know why, but this is important . . . . The abyss? Shin'en, meaning the abyss? But I died there, and Izanami resurrected me; at least I'm pretty sure I died. So, Shin'enko, child of the abyss? And I don't want to give up Iki; it's a reminder of where I come from, and my purpose in life.

"Shin'enko Iki," Hiyori finally replied.

The boy nodded and glanced at her. "Hair, brown. Eyes, magenta," he muttered. "You sure about Shin'enko?" he asked. "It'll stick out. Maybe pick something that's more common?"

"I'll keep it," Hiyori said. "Child of the Abyss; it sort of fits."

He looked at her, curious, then turned back to the computer. "If you say so. The abyss, that's where my reputation will be if you talk." His hand shook a little, and he had to use backspace to fix an error.

"I won't. And you're pretty normal compared to some people."

"You snoop that much?"

"Not really. It's just that, um, I don 't always stand out, and people act as if they're alone."

The computer screen went dark and he stood. "I set it to print in five minutes. Don't want anyone to look at it and getting curious before we get there."

Hiyori silently walked beside him as they went to the printer room, then to the lab where they made student ids. "How much?" she asked when she finally held the id which, to her inexperienced eyes, looked totally genuine.

"Nothing."

Hiyori shook her head. "I know you usually charge. I'm not trying to blackmail you, or anything. I'll pay the cost."

"Usually I charge 2500 yen. 500 of it I put in the school coffers. You know, to pay for the ink and stuff. Feels too much like stealing otherwise."

Deciding she liked the conscientious boy, Hiyori nodded as she counted and handed the money over. "Thanks."

She'd taken two steps when she turned back towards the boy. "If you keep telling yourself it's dirty and disgusting, you'll start to believe that you are dirty and disgusting. It's not either of those things, just a bit unusual. Just accept it as a part of who you are. So long as it's not hurting anyone, what's the big deal?" Hiyori paused. "But, too tell the truth, pink really isn't your color. Maybe try red, and use bright colors."

With school over for the day, Hiyori turned and headed to club practice, leaving behind a bright-red boy who liked to cross-dress. It wasn't something she understood, nor was she in a position to judge. She figured people would be even less willing to try to understand her making blood scarifies to dark gods.

The storm of the night before had passed earlier that morning, leaving the sky grey and the ground wet. Very wet. When she came to the practice yard where club meetings were held the students were ankle deep in mud.

Standing back she did the same trick as she had only two days previously; though to her it felt like a year. Borderlines in front of the students made them back away from unseen walls, and soon they were all walking away, talking about hot showers and the arduous chore of getting mud out of clothing, and just what they were going to do with footwear that was more mud than footwear. Strangely enough, for all the talk of needing an immediate shower, not even the girls considered the nearby showers they usually used after club practice.

The field was too large for her to place a borderline that crossed its entire width, but she cast them fast, making one flicker into place in one part of the field, then in another. When the field was empty of all but her and the club's instructor, she place a borderline across the entrance, knowing it would cause anyone who wanted to enter the practice field to find some reason not to. If only I'd figured this out before, Hiyori mused ruefully. Oh the grief it would've saved. My mother might come to strip me, but she would've forgot and found something else to do. My poor reputation! Thank the gods Milo doesn't allow cellphones on the field.

"So, ready to start practice?" she asked Milo who was staring dejectedly at the entrance.