Aofery: No worries, I've been all sorts of busy too. And yep, you're not wrong. This is the part where it starts crashing down around Yato's ears, poor guy. He's been through a lot.

Part 8

(In which everything unravels and Yato's secrets come close to the surface.)

"It's my cat," the boy said forlornly. "He slipped past me out the door two days ago and hasn't come back. He likes to sneak out, but he usually comes back in a day or so. I'm worried if he got hurt or something."

Yato raised an eyebrow at Yukine, who glared back. Part of his plan to get believers was that they take even the smallest job that came their way and complete it to the highest standards. Yato would find no help from that corner.

"Right," he sighed. "What's the little guy look like?"

The boy scrolled through his phone and held it out to show them a picture of a white cat with dark ears, a black splotch splashed across its back, and a wild tuft of fur sprouting from the tip of its tail.

"Wow, that is the ugliest–" Yato caught sight of Yukine's thunderous expression and changed course. "I mean, does it have a name?"

"Of course," said the boy. "His name is Ue-sama."

"What kind of ridiculous–?" Yato broke off with a cough as Yukine's glare intensified. "Right, then. I guess we'll just…" He trailed off with a frown. "Wait a second, I'd recognize that cat anywhere. Didn't I already find him for you a few years ago?"

The boy looked doubtful. "I don't remember that."

"No, of course you wouldn't," Yato said with a sigh. "Well, we're off to find your cat, then."

Yukine followed him back out of the house. "I don't remember rescuing any cats."

"Nah, it was before your time. Just before, actually. Right before I named you. I wonder if Hiyori remembers him. All I can say is that the little beast was trouble from the start, teasing ayakashi. I almost got eaten."

Yukine raised his eyebrows. "You're not much of a cat person, are you?"

Yato could not say that he was. He whipped out his phone to call Hiyori—she would get a kick out of this, he was sure, and maybe she could help them after school let out—but hesitated. He had acquired an aversion to making phone calls. There was always that momentary fear that Hiyori wouldn't be able to hear him, and any time she didn't pick up made him anxious.

His eye caught on the date blinking on the screen, and he slowly folded the phone back up and slipped it into his pocket. She wouldn't want to answer while in class, and he had the feeling that she wouldn't be in the mood for this today.

Between him and Yukine, it took all day to find the cat sunning itself in the park. It even had the nerve to purr when Yato picked it up.

"I don't know why he likes you when you can't stand him," Yukine said. "Cats are supposed to be smarter than that. Maybe he remembers you."

Yukine privately doubted that. If not even Hiyori could remember him, it seemed unlikely that a cat would.

He collected his five yen and walked Yukine back to Kofuku's since night was falling. Promising he'd be back for dinner, he hurried back into the night.

Hiyori sat hunched over schoolbooks at her desk when he tapped on her window, but he had taken a moment to note that her pencil hadn't moved in a full minute.

She startled and spun her chair around. "Yato?"

That was invitation enough for him. Yato pushed the window open and clambered inside.

"Busy?" he asked.

"Oh… Sorry, I should have stopped by after school, but I figured Yukine would be working you to the bone."

"The kid's a slave-driver," Yato agreed. He perched on the edge of Hiyori's bed, and she swiveled around to keep him in sight. "I thought you'd be with your dad."

"He's working late…at the hospital."

Figured. It seemed like the whole family became workaholics when they didn't want to deal with something, even if Hiyori wasn't making much progress today.

"Walk with me?" Yato asked.

"I don't know…" Hiyori darted a look at the clock. "It's kind of late and–"

"It's not that late, and I promised Yukine I'd be back for dinner. It'll just take a minute."

Hiyori looked like she wanted to protest further, but gave in with a sigh. "Fine," she grumbled.

He wondered if she would have agreed if she wasn't still plagued with guilt about forgetting him. She grabbed a sweater and headed outside, and he trailed behind her.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"The store."

They walked more or less in silence. Hiyori was lost in her own thoughts, gaze distant, and Yato let her be. They walked down to the corner store, but Yato veered off just before reaching it and ducked into the florist.

"Flowers?" Hiyori asked, roused by curiosity.

Yato nodded. He winced at the price tags and wandered to the far corner, where the cheaper bouquets were displayed.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"I'm not sure…"

"Humor me, won't you? Which is your favorite?"

Hiyori surveyed her options before pointing to a small arrangement of white and pink flowers. "That one, I guess."

Yato scowled as he emptied out his cash bottle to pay for the flowers. "Here, hold these," he said as they left the shop.

Hiyori took them and eyed him skeptically. "May I ask what in the world you're going to do with flowers? You never really seemed like the flower type to me."

"It's right over here."

Hiyori shrugged it off, but her steps slowed when they approached the gates to the graveyard. "Yato…?"

"Yeah?"

"What are we doing here?"

Yato sighed and draped an arm around her shoulders. She had gone white, and her hands trembled in a tight-fisted grip on the flowers.

"Come on, kid," he said gently.

He knew exactly where her mother's grave was. He had followed Hiyori here many times before and sat with her both before and after her mother's death. Although he hadn't been here in a long time, it would be hard to forget.

By the time they reached the gravestone, tears had flooded Hiyori's eyes and verged on falling.

"Yato…"

"It's the anniversary, right? Why are you doing homework? At least say hello. I think it would be good for you."

She heaved a shuddering breath and swiped her sleeve across her eyes. "I didn't even tell you about my mom yet," she said, her voice wavering. "How did you know it was the anniversary?"

"Yukine must have mentioned it."

"Yukine…?"

"You didn't really think he never came around to check on you?"

"I guess not… I just… I can't…"

"I can give you some space. You don't need to give a speech or anything if you don't want to. I just thought it would be good for you to stop by, even if only for a minute."

Yato stepped away, but Hiyori grabbed his sleeve.

"Stay," she croaked.

Yato stayed, although he averted his gaze. Hiyori carefully arranged the flowers on the grave and stepped back again to press against Yato's side.

They stood in silence for several minutes, lost in their own thoughts. Yato did not ask what Hiyori was thinking. It wasn't his place to intrude more than he already had. He was only here for company.

"I miss you," Hiyori whispered finally in a thick voice.

Then she turned away and tugged on Yato's sleeve so that he followed. She didn't say anything until they had made it back outside the gate.

"Thanks. Maybe I needed that."

"I'm sorry about your mom. She seemed like a nice lady."

"She was."

Yato took her by the hand and stepped through the air. They stepped out right in front of the hospital.

"You shouldn't have to be alone today," he said. "And neither should your dad. You should spend some time together instead of hiding away with your grief alone. Maybe you should ask him to come home."

Hiyori looked at him through red, puffy eyes and then at the building. "Maybe you're right."

"I usually am."

"Thanks, Yato. For making sure I wasn't alone."

"Of course. Go on, then. I'll see you tomorrow."

Hiyori squeezed his hand and then tilted her chin up and walked through the doors, glancing backwards once to give him a watery smile.

Yato stared after her, wondering if she'd be okay. Of course she would, but he worried anyway.

He didn't move until his phone rang.

"I thought you said you'd be home for dinner," Yukine griped. "Dinner is on the table."

And Yato didn't want to be alone either, so he grasped that thin connection binding their phones between the air waves and let it take him back home.

Yato woke alone, with sunshine streaming through the window. Yukine was long gone, and Yato had the feeling, carried over from sleep, that his time had just run out. He couldn't put his finger on where exactly his mind had gone while he slept—if it could be called sleep at all when he never truly slept—but the feeling of being lost, of losing something, was overpowering. He looked at the empty futon across the room and let out a breath. The panic he expected to feel beat useless butterfly wings against the crushing numbness that had crept back in. He still remembered how muted emotions felt without bodily cues prompting them.

Well. It had been nice while it lasted.

He imagined he could feel the floorboards beneath his feet, the coolness of the air, but they felt faded and far away. Echoes of what had been.

The door stood halfway open, and he slid through and down the stairs, every step weighed down with hopelessness. Life already felt so fleeting, slipping through his fingertips like sand through an hourglass. He'd had a second chance and squandered it, too afraid of it ending to enjoy it while it lasted. Now it was gone, and he choked on his regrets like all the words he'd never said.

Hiyori would be fine. It was hard to miss what you couldn't remember. She was tough and had her own place in the human world apart from them. Yukine, though… Yato didn't want to think about that.

Loud voices drifted out of the kitchen below, Kofuku shrieking with laughter and Daikoku grumbling for her to calm down and Yukine snickering at something she'd said. They didn't know yet. They didn't know and Yato didn't want to see the moment the realization hit them, but he thought he should probably say his goodbyes. Even if he returned to his wanderings, even if it was too painful to stay near them and he could only bear to check in every few weeks or months or years, he couldn't just leave without seeing them one more time.

He paused in the doorway, even though it was a dangerous place to stand. Kofuku was covered head to toe in whatever she'd been trying to make for breakfast. Daikoku scrubbed at her with a dish towel while keeping an eye on the stove. Yukine snorted at their antics while he set plates on the table. He set out four plates and hesitated.

"Do you think Hiyori might show up for breakfast?"

"How should I know?" Daikoku grumbled. "It's the weekend, so maybe. Why don't you call and ask?"

"'Cause Yato has the phone. She did say she'd be over early since she couldn't make it yesterday. We'll see."

Yukine shrugged and set out an extra plate just in case. Yato stared at his empty plate, one last sign that he had existed at all, that someone cared and was waiting for him, before it was swept away. He could have sworn he felt a lump clogging his throat.

"Someone sure slept in late," Yukine said. He looked at the doorway and raised an eyebrow. Yato tensed, ready to step out of the way if Yukine came through to head upstairs and try to wake him. To realize he was missing.

"Yato-chan!" Kofuku sang loudly enough to float up the stairs. She should know better than to think it would wake him if he were still asleep. Nothing short of bodily injury would get him out of bed some days. "Why don't you call Hiyorin and see if she's coming?"

"If you're going to call, do it fast," Daikoku said. "Breakfast is ready."

"Let's just eat," Yukine said as he moved to help Daikoku serve the food. "She'll come when she's ready."

Yato watched them bustle around the kitchen, drinking in the last dredges of normalcy. He could almost see himself sitting down with them and sharing a meal. He had just been starting to get used to being seen and relearning taste and smell and sensation. It was a shame to lose it again so soon, although he supposed it might be even harder if he had already grown to count on it again.

"Are you coming?" Yukine asked loudly, shooting an aggravated look at the doorway. When no response was evident, he grumbled under his breath and stomped over.

Yato stepped aside, hugging the wall and giving Yukine space to get through the doorway without walking through him. Yukine stopped and seemed to look right at him, eyebrows raised.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked.

Odd, it was almost like…

"Yato? Hellooo? What are you doing?" Yukine flapped a hand in Yato's face and then jabbed a finger at him. Yato flinched away, but not before the kid's finger grazed his skin. "You're being weird again."

Yato stared at him. "You can…?"

"I can what? Kick your ass? Of course I can. Come eat breakfast before I decide to."

Yukine could see him, touch him, talk to him. The phantom sensations were really there after all, not just a trick of the mind. Yato slumped back against the wall and sucked in a lungful of air, and it still felt a little surreal but solid now. He had been so sure…

Had it just been a cruel dream that lingered even in his waking moments? Could a dream have been that real?

"You're very pale, Yato-chan," Kofuku said.

"Maybe you just need to eat something," Daikoku suggested.

Yukine's face pinched up in a frown. "Are you okay? You're hovering in doorways pretending not to hear us again. It's really weird. You're so quiet I'd never even know you were there at all if I couldn't see you."

Yato forced a smile, still reeling. "I must still be asleep," he said faintly.

"But–"

A loud knock interrupted them.

"Hiyorin!" Kofuku cried, instantly distracted.

"I'll get it," Yato said quickly, turning away from Yukine's concern and rushing away. Anything to avoid the questions he didn't know how to answer.

He dodged around Yukine and took a shortcut, bypassing the door to go straight for the wall separating the kitchen from the entranceway. He slammed into the wall with enough force to send him staggering backward. Gasping out a curse, he stared at the wall in betrayal. It had been a few days since he'd tried to walk through a solid object, but he still felt immaterial and unreal and had been so sure in the moment that he would pass right through.

"You idiot!" Yukine grabbed him by the arm and twisted him around. "What were you thinking? Gross, you gave yourself a nosebleed."

"I'll get Hiyorin," Kofuku said to no one in particular, while Daikoku rushed to get napkins.

Yato touched a trembling hand to his nose, and it came away wet.

"Sit down before you run into anything else, you idiot," Yukine said, but he sounded worried.

Yato obediently slid down the wall to the floor when Yukine pushed on his shoulders. It was hard to breathe, the air congealing in his lungs. The air seemed to shimmer and waver like a bubble about to burst, like he was still asleep after all and just hadn't realized it yet. His very existence teetered precariously along a precipice, and he might trip over the edge if he wasn't careful.

Daikoku crouched down with a fistful of napkins, and Yato pressed them to his nose until they grew wet and sticky with blood.

"Goodness, what happened?" Hiyori asked, appearing in the doorway with Kofuku right behind her.

"He's being weird again," Yukine said. "He's doing that thing where he stands at the edge of the room and pretends like he can't hear anyone and won't talk and flinches if you get too close. And then he ran into a wall."

"Again?" Hiyori sighed and crouched down in front of Yato with Yukine and Daikoku. She pried the lump of bloody tissue out of his hand and took a look at his nose before taking a clean napkin from Daikoku. "You're lucky you haven't broken your nose yet."

"It's fine," Yato croaked. His voice sounded rough and breathy to his own ears, and nasal when he pinched his nostrils shut.

"You don't look fine," Hiyori said doubtfully.

"You haven't been acting right since…" Daikoku trailed off. "Sometimes you're yourself, but sometimes you seem really out of it."

Yato hunched his shoulders and avoided their eyes.

"We're just worried about you, Yato-chan," Kofuku said quietly.

"I'm fine," he said. "Just still half-asleep, I guess."

"You would… You would tell us if something was wrong, wouldn't you?" Yukine asked.

Yato pulled his trembling hand away from his face and looked down at the blood blooming in crimson blotches across the crumpled tissue.

"Of course," he said, but he didn't have to see their faces to know they didn't believe him.

"That was actually pretty good, don't you think?" Hiyori asked brightly.

She and Yukine eyed Yato sidelong as they traipsed back down the street. They would seem to be in much higher spirits than this morning if Yato couldn't still read the worry behind their smiles. He had not been able to convince them he was fine any more than he could convince himself. They had dragged him out for a 'day of fun', running around the city to window-shop and eat a picnic in the park and, most recently, get ice cream cones at a new shop that had just opened.

"Yeah," Yukine agreed. "It's pretty great. We'll have to go back sometime. There are a lot of other flavors I'd like to try."

"You should have just gotten a scoop of everything," Yato said with a vacant smile.

He had been tempted to do just that, just because he could. He had wanted a lick of every flavor just to remember what each one tasted like. Maybe he should have. It was the kind of thing he would have done before and might have put the kids more at ease.

"There's no way I could eat that much ice cream before it melted all over me."

"How do you expect me to pay for that much ice cream?" Hiyori griped. "I'm not your ATM, you know."

"Of course not," Yato said. "An ATM only gives you your own money. You're just our free cash dispenser."

"Hey!" she spluttered, but she smiled and exchanged a relieved look with Yukine.

Yato really ought to make more of an effort at normalcy. Even a lame joke here and there went a long way toward helping the kids relax.

Yukine eyed the orange-tinged sky and the sun dipping beneath the horizon. "Maybe we should head back. It will be dark soon, and Hiyori should–"

"Look out!" Hiyori cried. She had turned back, probably to tell Yato to stop lagging a few steps behind, and now her eyes went wide. "Ayakashi!"

Yato followed her gaze and saw an ayakashi pock-marked with bulging eyeballs bounding down the street.

"Oh," he said, shrugging it off. "It's okay. It can't touch me."

"Are you insane?" Yukine demanded. "Call me so we can kill it."

Yato didn't see the big deal. Another two ayakashi melted out of a nearby alley, attracted by the commotion. Yukine cursed and threw up a borderline to keep them away. Footsteps slapped against the pavement behind Yato.

"Yato!" Hiyori screamed.

Yato sighed and opened his mouth to reassure them that ayakashi had never shown any interest in him while he hovered in this in-between state of existence, but the phantom slammed into him with the force of a brick wall before he could get the words out. He went down hard, crashing into the concrete as fire exploded across his skin and sharp teeth clamped down on his arm. The impact drove all the breath out of his lungs in a gasp.

Hiyori screamed something.

"Call me!" Yukine shouted. "Yato!"

The ayakashi shook Yato like a ragdoll and tossed him aside. He slammed into the pavement again, jamming his elbow against the sidewalk hard enough to send numbing vibrations shooting up his entire arm.

"Smells good," the ayakashi hissed.

A borderline sliced across the pavement, but it just missed separating them as the ayakashi pounced again, sinking blight-riddled fangs into his chest and pinning him to the ground. It crushed the air out of his lungs and dug in its claws.

Yato was too stunned to summon Yukine even if he had the breath to form the words. The surreal feeling of not quite existing that had plagued him all day had made him complacent. Made him forget himself.

The ayakashi unclamped its jaws from his chest, and its dank, fetid breath blew against his face as it raised its snout and looked him in the eye. He could read its intentions in its eyes, could almost feel its teeth sinking into his throat.

And for just a second, he thought it might be easier that way. It might be easier to die here than face the bleak future of disappearance and nonexistence that awaited him.

The ayakashi screeched, and the weight disappeared from his chest. Yato gasped for breath and wheezed out a grating cough. He struggled to a sitting position, Sekki on his lips, before realizing the ayakashi was gone.

Bishamon sat astride Kuraha several yards away, her whip snapping out to dispatch the other two ayakashi Yukine was fending off. Yukine and Hiyori rushed over and dropped to their knees in front of him.

"What were you thinking?" Yukine demanded. He reached out, but his hands hovered uselessly in the air. Yato could feel the blight stinging and burning half his body, like his skin might melt off. "Why didn't you call me?"

"What would you have done if Bishamon hadn't shown up?" Hiyori added shrilly. "You just stood there!"

"I…" Yato looked between all three unsmiling faces, still befuddled by the whole situation. The pain was making him lightheaded. "Sorry? I forgot…"

"Forgot what?" Bishamon asked coldly.

"Why in the world would you think it couldn't touch you?" Hiyori asked.

And Yukine: "Are you trying to get yourself killed? What kind of suicidal bullshit was that? You didn't even try to fight back!"

"I'm not… I didn't mean…" Yato put his face in his hands and tried to calm his breathing. "It was an accident. I'm fine."

"You are not fine!" Yukine exploded. Yato winced as a sharp pang in his chest soared above the sting of blight. "You keep saying you're fine as if we don't know you're lying! Something is obviously wrong, and you won't tell us what it is. You haven't been the same since you've come back. You've been quiet and mopey and lurk along walls ignoring us. You flinch if we try to touch you, and you don't constantly invade our personal space like before."

"And you know things you shouldn't," Hiyori added. "You seemed to know about how long you were gone before we even told you. You knew about my mom and her death anniversary. I asked Yukine—he never told you and didn't even know when the anniversary was."

"Maybe Kofuku–" Yato tried weakly.

"No, Yato. There are a lot of other little comments here and there. They seem okay at first, but if I look back, you shouldn't have known those things because you were gone at the time."

"And you keep walking into doors and walls," Yukine grumbled. "It's like watching a bird keep trying to fly through closed windows."

"That's true," Hiyori said. "Your coordination was even worse in the beginning. Remember how hard it was to eat when you couldn't use chopsticks?"

"I was just overwhelmed," Yato said thinly. "It was a lot at once."

He looked up at a grating sound along the pavement. Bishamon slid down Kuraha's side, pebbles scraping underfoot. She braced her hands on her hips and stared at him with a thunderous expression.

"What did you mean earlier, at the party? What did you mean when you said reincarnation would have been kinder?"

Yato started. "You were definitely too drunk to–"

"No. I can hold my liquor better than you can, and you weren't drunk either. I didn't press the point because it's not my business, but it becomes my business if you're off sacrificing yourself to ayakashi and leaving me to rescue you. I really hope you aren't trying to reincarnate yourself."

"Trying to…?" Yato coughed out a laugh devoid of humor. "Of course not. You and I both know I wouldn't reincarnate."

"Well then, what are you doing?"

Hiyori made a strangled sort of sound, and her eyes filled with tears. Yukine might have been the one doing the strangling, going by the look on his face.

"Why won't you tell us what's wrong?" Hiyori's voice hitched, and she scrubbed at her face with her hands. "We know that something is hurting you, that something isn't right, but we can't help you if you won't tell us what it is."

Yato dug his nails into his palms. The fragile balance he'd struck inside himself wavered and threatened to crack under the weight of Hiyori's tears and Yukine's fear and Bishamon's concern and his own pain. His equilibrium had already been shaken this morning, and he could feel it teetering on the edge again.

"Don't you understand?" Yukine burst out, and Yato could taste his fear beneath the anger. "We're trying to save you. Why are you trying to kill yourself? Why don't you trust us to help?"

"What does trust have to do with anything?"

"Because you never trust us enough to tell us the truth! You're standoffish and skittish and walking into walls and know things you shouldn't, and now if you're trying to kill–"

Something finally snapped.

"I'm not trying to kill myself!" Yato growled. "I told you, I forgot."

"Forgot what?"

"I forgot they could see me." He fisted his hands against the ground. Blood dripped down his arm and from the wound in his chest, puddling around him on the pavement. The tremors were worsening, shaking his whole body as it hit him how close he'd come to dying because of a stupid mistake. How hopeless this all seemed. "They never bothered me when they couldn't see me."

Hiyori frowned. "When they couldn't…?"

"Of course I walk into walls if I'm not paying attention!" he said. "I used to be able to do that. Of course I'm wary of touch. I don't want to risk you walking through me. Of course I'm quiet. I don't know if you can hear me, and it's no fun talking at people who don't know you exist. Of course I know things I shouldn't. I was here when they happened. Of course I'm not the same. I lived those two years just like you, and they weren't any kinder to me."

Hiyori had gone ashen. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I watched your mother die and sat by her bedside with you. I saw Bishamon name Yukine, after Kofuku asked her over because he refused to take a new master. Or, I went upstairs so I didn't have to see that part, but I saw everything before and after. I sat with Yukine through his nightmares and listened to the wishes he made at my shrine until he gave up saying them aloud and saw him struggle to work with Bishamon's team and watched him try over and over again to make you remember him, until he gave up raging and calmed down.

"My shrine didn't work so I couldn't follow him to Takamagahara and it hurt too much to watch from the sidelines, so eventually I wandered off and only checked in every few weeks, but I was there for a lot of it. I was there, but you didn't see me."

"That's…impossible," Bishamon said, stunned. "It doesn't make sense."

"I don't understand," Yukine said in a small voice.

His anger had fled, leaving his fear to mingle with shock and horror. Yato deflated along with him.

"Never mind," he said quietly. "It doesn't matter."

"It doesn't matter?" Yukine repeated, incredulous.

"Of course it matters," Hiyori said. "It matters if it's what's bothering you." She hesitated and then added cautiously, "So you're saying that…when I forgot, you didn't entirely disappear? You were like…a ghost?"

Yato shrugged halfheartedly, already regretting his outburst. He had tried so hard to protect the kids from the truth, and he'd gone and blown it in a fit of pique.

"Something like that," he mumbled.

"That's insane," Bishamon said. "Is that what happens to all the gods who disappear?"

"How should I know? I never found another, and not for lack of trying. Either it was just me or we're all invisible to each other too. I don't know if it's normal or… I was trying to release Yukine at the time, and it felt like what power I had left built up and exploded. Maybe it was enough to tie my shade here. Or maybe the whole thing is normal and that's how it always goes. I don't know."

Yukine made a strangled sort of sound. "The whole time?"

Yato nodded, a fist tightening around his heart. "I'm sorry," he said. "I saw you crying and listened to you calling for me, and I couldn't… I tried, you know? I tried everything, with all of you, but I couldn't do anything. Nothing worked. If I'm acting strangely, it's because I don't always remember how to live."

Yukine put his face in his hands, and Yato's chest squeezed tighter.

"Oh, Yato," Hiyori breathed. Her voice cracked in the middle, and her eyes glistened. "I'm so sorry. Why didn't you say anything?"

"Why would I?" he asked tiredly. "You were already feeling guilty enough. Everyone was already worried enough. Things were bad enough already. I shouldn't have said anything. I didn't mean to."

"But it hurt you," she said, tears dripping down her cheeks. "You shouldn't have to handle it alone. Maybe we can't… But at least if we understand, maybe we could help a little. We can try. I'm so sorry. It sounds awful."

"It was." Yato's voice broke. He was shivering himself apart again, existential dread bubbling to the surface. "I'm terrified," he whispered, his breathing coming rapid and shallow again. "I can't go back. I can't do it again. I can't–I can't–"

Yukine threw himself into Yato's arms just as he dissolved, heedless of the blood and blight. He was trembling and crying, and Yato clutched him tight, holding on for dear life.

"I can't…"

Hiyori crept closer and buried her face in his neck. Bishamon dropped a hand on his shoulder.

Yato dissolved into tears, the sobs ripped out of his chest and his blind panic shaking his body to pieces, and his friends held him while he broke, trying to hold him together.