Father chuckled like a little kid playing with a new toy. He watched mercilessly as the young man removed his shoes and placed them on the edge of the rooftop where he stood. The masked Phantom preying on his despair perched itself on his shoulder. Father observed on top of a nearby building. He shivered with excitement as the man proceeded to step forward off of the solid ground and quickly plummeted to his death. Father threw his head back and laughed to the sky, the sound of the man's head splattering on the sidewalk replaying in his mind.
"Having control over someone else's fate is exhilarating!" He cried happily. "Wouldn't you agree, Yaboku?"
Father turned around to face the god, who was sitting against the wall of the roof door. He sat with his knees to his chest and his head in his arms. Yato remained silent and motionless.
His father didn't seem very entertained by this. He advanced towards the god and reached down to grasp the collar of his kimono. Yato didn't appear too affected by it, as he simply let his limbs dangle loosely as his father held him up.
"Stand up."
Yato's head bobbed backwards as his father shook him. Their eyes met, but the god's usual bright orbs were now blank and lifeless.
His father grew agitated. He gritted his teeth.
"I said stand up!"
The threatening tone in his father's voice seemed to take a minute to process before Yato gathered up his strength and completely stood up. His father then continued to drag him over to the railing, shoving his upper body over the edge so that his gaze was on the bloodied man's body below them. Yato's eyes didn't falter.
"Ya see that?" Father smirked, pinning him down against the railing, forcing him to look. "That's what happens when you misbehave."
Despite Yato staring right at the man's corpse below him, there was no expression on his face. His eyes resembled an empty canvas.
Father sighed out of boredom. His grip hardened on the god's shoulders. However, an idea suddenly came to mind, and his grin broadened once more.
"Wouldn't it be just absolutely tragic if that were Hiyori-chan down there?" He sang cheerfully in Yato's ear.
He felt Yato stiffen under his hold, and a small gasp escaped his lips. Father chuckled in response, entertained by the god's reaction.
"Oops! Did I say that out loud? My bad!" He replied with fake sympathy.
Yato's eyes snapped shut. He ground his teeth together in fury. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the railing on either side of him, feeling suddenly nauseous.
"Are you picturing it? If you weren't before, then you must be thinking about it now, right?" Father taunted.
He finally stepped away from Yato, giving him room to breathe. Yato clenched his kimono over his chest, trying to keep his anxiety contained. The very sound of his father's voice was enough to drive him insane.
"Speaking of Hiyori-chan…"
Yato straightened up immediately, his ears catching the sound of her name. He turned to see his father twirling his paintbrush and grinning devilishly.
"Her friends helped me set up a lil' date with her this weekend!" He smiled widely and clasped his hands together joyfully.
In one sudden, swift movement, Yato reached into his kimono and pulled out a jagged kitchen knife. He swung it outward, directing it at his father's throat.
"My, my!" Father chuckled in response, pretending as if the god's anger was a surprise. "Where do you get such dangerous toys, Yaboku?"
Yato said nothing. His pupils sharpened like a cat's, sending a fierce glare in his father's direction. His nostrils flared as he breathed heavily like a provoked bull about to charge.
His father got a good kick out of this. Once he finished laughing, he dropped his school bag down by his feet and held up his hands defenselessly. After a long moment, he spoke.
"Well?" He raised an eyebrow, challenging him. "I'm waiting."
Father saw as Yato clenched his jaw. The dagger in his hand began to shake slightly, and Yato attempted to steady himself by holding onto his other wrist.
"Hurry up n' make a decision. I'm getting bored!" Father complained.
Yato swallowed hard as he hesitated once more. He slowly lowered the weapon, his arms dropping back to his sides. He lowered his head in shame, feeling his father's judging gaze on him.
Father scoffed. "That's what I thought. Nothing more than a weak coward."
Yato still didn't open his mouth to speak. He quietly followed his father back to the cabin, clutching the handle of the knife by his side the whole way.
. . . .
Hiyori yawned as she had texted her friends back. She held her phone over the edge of the bathtub to prevent her wet hand from dropping it into the water. She leaned back against the end of the tub, noticing how her stomach peaked out from the surface of the soapy bath water.
"Yama-chan is relentless sometimes," Hiyori sighed to herself.
She placed her phone down on the floor beside her. Her hands came to rest over her bump. She relaxed, closed her eyes and gently rubbed her stomach.
When she opened her eyes again, there was a knock at the bathroom door.
"Hiyori?" Yukine's voice called. "You almost done in there?"
Hiyori blinked her eyes, regaining her senses. When she checked the time on her phone, she found that almost fifteen minutes had passed. She realized she must have fallen asleep.
"H-hai!" She called back, rushing to grab her towel and drain the bathtub.
Once she dried off and pulled on her bathrobe, the brunette headed out of the bathroom. She glanced around the apartment, only to find Yukine looking through the fridge.
"Is my brother home yet?" She asked him.
"Hm?" The blonde boy straightened up and faced her direction, pulling out a soda can. Then, the realization hit his face. "Oh, not yet."
"Don't eat my pudding cups!" Hiyori called over her shoulder as she went into the guest bedroom.
"Yeah, yeah! I know!" He said back, cracking open his can.
Hiyori closed the door behind her, slumping down on the edge of the bed. She stared at her smartphone, rereading the text messages between her and her friends.
She knew this was her last chance to get to see her friends before it became too obvious why she was never around anymore. It was an opportunity to have fun - one she hadn't had in a long time.
And while she knew her brother may not agree with this decision, she also knew that she wasn't a child anymore. She would be a mother soon and had to focus on earning her high school degree without actually ever going to school ever again.
She giggled at her friend's excitement.
'Karaoke night on Friday at 6! Don't be late!'
