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Chapter 3

(In which explanations are demanded, a war council is held, and things are not nearly over.)

"That's horrible!" Kofuku said. Her wide eyes held none of their usual sparkle as she looked around the table, her gaze flickering across Daikoku, Bishamon, Kazuma, Hiyori, Yukine, and then finally coming to rest on Yato, who had shown little interest in the discussion thus far despite his usual reluctance to discuss anything related to his father. "Yato-chan, are you…?"

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" Daikoku asked, his gruffness an obvious front to deflect attention away from the worry creasing his face.

Yukine drummed his fingers impatiently on the polished wood of the tabletop. It had already taken far too long for his liking to gather the relevant parties together in Bishamon's boardroom and catch everyone up on recent events. There had been a brief debate this morning about whether to include Kofuku and Daikoku at all since they weren't directly involved and knew far less about the situation with Yato's father than the rest of them, but they already knew something had happened and Yato had just shrugged and mumbled something about it being safer to keep them in the loop in case they became targets.

Yukine cast a sidelong glance at the god slumping in the chair beside him. Yato hadn't cracked even a single joke or said anything ridiculous all day. In fact, he hadn't said much of anything. He was still pale and pinched, eyes smudged with shadow and bearing a distinctly glassy sheen. Yukine supposed he couldn't blame Yato for being out of sorts after having been possessed by an ayakashi and nearly killing them, but it was downright disturbing to watch him drift about aimlessly like a ghost of his former self.

"Are you sure you're okay, Yato?" Hiyori asked for what must have been the twentieth time today. "You really don't look well."

Yato's breath whispered through the air like a sigh. "Fine."

Hiyori looked as unconvinced as Yukine felt. He had been hoping a night of rest would help, but Yato still looked terrible and shambled about lethargically like he had no energy or willpower. Yukine was afraid that the possession had damaged something inside him, maybe broken part of his spirit. But Yato was tough and resilient, and Yukine was sure he would be back on his feet soon enough. He had to be.

"The threat is much greater than I'd even expected," Bishamon continued as if she'd barely noticed the interruption. The faint, rhythmic clicking of her heel against the floorboards sped up again as her agitation increased, and Yukine had no doubt she would be pacing again if they weren't all sitting down. "If the sorcerer can use ayakashi to possess gods, we're all at risk and could become targets at any time. We'll have to bring this to Amaterasu immediately and spread the word to the other gods so that they can take measures to protect themselves."

"It's just me," Yato said, his words sliding over each other languidly with a distinct lack of urgency. Blank eyes traced lazy, unconcerned loops over the tabletop.

Bishamon paused, mouth hanging halfway open as she lost her steam, but then she recovered herself. "Excuse me?"

"He can't possess any god. Just me."

"What?" Yukine already didn't like the sound of this. Anything Yato's dad did to single him out seemed like bad news. "Why?"

"I don't understand," Bishamon said sharply. "It's about time you explained exactly what happened."

Silence hung thick in the air like storm clouds as Yato stared down at the polished wood as if searching for answers in the faint, distorted shimmer of his reflection. Bishamon's eyes narrowed, Kofuku and Daikoku exchanged a look, and even Kazuma fidgeted and cleared his throat.

"What happened after you left, Yato-chan?" Kofuku asked when the silence had dragged on for a beat too long.

"What did he do to you?" Hiyori asked quietly, her fingers tangling together like a nest of writhing snakes before going still and clenching white-knuckled.

Yato blinked and shook his head slowly as if emerging from a daze, frowning a little as he pressed his fingertips to his forehead. "That brush he stole, the one Ebisu brought back from Yomi, is much more powerful than the other one he has. It lets him create and control ayakashi more effectively, even to the point of using them to possess and control humans. I don't know exactly how it works, but if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say it follows as a natural extension of the power since ayakashi already influence and sometimes possess and corrupt humans. It won't work on gods, because that natural connection doesn't exist and you're too powerful. Gods and ayakashi don't really mix. Possessing a god should be as impossible as binding one with shinki spells, and the attempt would more likely produce blight than anything else.

"The way he got around that…is me." His shoulders slumped as he propped his elbow on the table and settled his bowed head on a fist against his forehead. He closed his eyes and sighed, a tired sound. "He gave me my life and my name. And he somehow piggybacked off that when creating an ayakashi and attaching it to me. He gave it my name. That's why it answers to 'Yaboku'. Basically, it has a cheat code to seize control when it's inside me, because it's using my own name and life. Or rather, Father bound our names and lives together so that he can effectively control us both by controlling one of us." He chuckled breathily. "If I won't cooperate, he'll just hijack my body."

He didn't seem concerned by the ring of horrified faces gaping at him, but Yukine's stomach roiled in time to his swirling thoughts. That was…

"That's horrible!" Hiyori cried, her fingers strangling themselves into white-knuckled fists against the tabletop.

It was possibly the most horrifying thing Yukine had ever heard, and he had heard some pretty horrifying things since dying and becoming a shinki. Everything he learned about Yato's dad was terrible, but this somehow reached a different level entirely. Out of all the terrible things you could do to someone, literally taking control of them and dancing them about like a puppet to obey your every whim had to be one of the absolute worst. Finding a way to do it physically, to actually bind Yato in chains and replace him inside his own body, when threats and manipulation no longer worked… That was a whole new level of twisted.

No wonder Yato felt like he didn't have any choice but to do what his father said. If he refused, look what happened.

"That should be impossible," Kazuma said, but his voice had a strangled sort of quality to it and he had pushed his glasses further up his nose five times within the past thirty seconds. "It's…like the perfect storm."

Yato shrugged. "It's a lot of moving parts, but it's not like he left it to chance. I'm sure he's been planning it for a while. He was careful to set everything up just right."

Bishamon frowned. "But if, theoretically speaking–"

"No. It has something to do with how he created me and fashioned himself as my lifeline. He has more control over me than he does you. More access to what makes me tick. He doesn't own the rest of you the way he owns me, so he doesn't have an in."

"He doesn't own you," Yukine snapped.

Yato huffed out a breath that set the dark fringe of hair across his forehead fluttering. "You're missing the point."

"I changed my mind," Bishamon said abruptly, a renewed sense of urgency twining beneath her restlessness. "No one can know about this. We haven't spread the story around, so we'll just swear anyone who saw it firsthand to secrecy. It's common knowledge he disappeared and at least a few people around here have an idea of why, but… If anyone asks, you had a run-in with the sorcerer and didn't fare well. Don't tell anyone he can possess you with ayakashi."

A frown tugged at Kazuma's lips as he adjusted his glasses yet again. "Veena, are you sure it wouldn't be safer to–?"

She shook her head. "If the sorcerer could possess any god, it would be too dangerous not to warn the others. But if it's just Yato… The heavens are more likely to just kill him to shut down the problem. It's more practical to disarm the sorcerer and rid him of a dangerous weapon, and the life of a single minor god isn't valued that highly. Definitely not highly enough to justify keeping him around if he becomes a liability. No one else can catch wind of this."

"What do you care?" Yukine snapped right back. "You're still going to kill his dad anyway."

Bishamon huffed out an exasperated breath. "Is this really the time to start going on about that again?"

"Well, if you–"

"That's enough, Yukine," Yato said quietly, propping his cheek on his fist. "She's not wrong, and we could use her help now that our goals are finally aligned."

Yukine sat up straight and glared at him. "Our goal is not to kill your dad. I don't know why you thought that was a good idea or what you thought you could do to him without me, but I'm your guidepost and I'm telling you to snap out of it already."

"You can't just say you're going to cut your lifeline and run off," Hiyori added in a thin voice, hunching her shoulders and staring down at her hands.

"It's too late," Yato said with another apathetic roll of his shoulders. "He has to die."

"No way!" Yukine realized he couldn't expect anything from his idiot master right now, and it wasn't like he could count on Bishamon or Kazuma to have his back. He appealed to Kofuku and Daikoku instead, leaning forward as he turned his pleading gaze on them. "Can't you talk some sense into him? He's going to kill himself trying to take out his dad—or actually manage it and disappear."

They exchanged a troubled look, and Kofuku chewed on her lip for a long time before saying, "I actually agree with Yukki and Hiyorin. Couldn't we come up with another solution so that Yato-chan has a fighting chance?"

"Maybe the sorcerer could be…imprisoned?" Daikoku suggested, his gaze darting around the faces circling the table. "Instead of killed?"

Aggravation carved ragged creases across Bishamon's face. "That's a pretty idea, but he's too dangerous. We can't risk him ever going free again, and he's already upsetting the natural order of things. He's a big enough threat that he needs to be completely eradicated."

"I second that," Yato mumbled. "You don't understand exactly how dangerous he is. Anyway, it's too late now. I already told Amaterasu that I was going to kill him. And if I fail, the heavens are going to move against him at Ooharai."

"What?" Yukine had suspected Yato had said far too much when Amaterasu had summoned him, but this was even worse than he had thought. "You stupid–! I can't even talk to you right now."

He crossed his arms tightly over his chest and glared down at the tabletop. Everything he did to protect Yato, and the idiot had to go and ruin it all. It wasn't fair. Even if he could somehow defang Bishamon and Kazuma, Yato had stupidly involved the heavens and cut off all his escape routes.

"There has to be something we can do," Hiyori said.

Bishamon opened her mouth, clearly decided better than to say whatever was on her mind, and closed it again.

Yukine made a valiant effort to shake himself out of his funk. "Well, we won't kill him. We'll just…find a way to stop him from using the ayakashi like that."

"…We could steal the brush?" Kazuma suggested, clearing his throat. Bishamon raised an eyebrow at him.

Yukine had not forgiven Kazuma by any means, but this very practical suggestion buoyed his spirits nonetheless. "Exactly! If he doesn't have the brush and can't control the ayakashi, he can't possess you. And then we can find a way to make him stop everything without killing him and talk the heavens down."

Yato looked less than enthused. "It wouldn't be that easy. Just getting the brush away from him would be next to impossible, and stopping the heavens would be even more so. Didn't you learn anything from last time?"

"Do you have a better plan?" Yukine retorted. He immediately regretted it when his brain caught up to his mouth and Yato's resigned gaze didn't falter.

"Yes," said the god. "Kill him. He's much too dangerous to let live."

"But–"

"You don't believe me? Why don't you ask Hiyori what I've been up to lately? I'm sure she's seen the news."

Yukine stared, puzzled by the non sequitur. "What?"

Why would Hiyori know anything when she had been just as worried and in the dark as he was? What news?

Hiyori flinched upright in surprise. "What do you–?" Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and her hand fluttered up to cover the horrified expression twisting her lips. "The killings?"

A rock settled in the pit of Yukine's stomach as the pieces began clicking into place like a puzzle just out of focus. He searched his master's face for any sign that he might be overreacting, but Yato was just as impassive and flat as before and nothing showed on his face.

"What killings?" asked Daikoku with a frown.

Hiyori shook her head in denial as she said, "There have been over fifty confirmed murders within the city limits in the past five days or so. I'm surprised you haven't heard anything, even without watching the news. The whole city is freaking out. My parents won't even let me out of the house alone anymore."

Yukine's first—totally irrelevant and possibly hysterical—thought was that this might explain why Hiyori was always running around in her spirit form these days and hadn't brought her body by in a while. The ring of white faces and sound of indrawn breaths and muttered curses quickly chased such a silly notion out of his head.

"Yato-chan…" Kofuku murmured, her face scrunching up.

Obviously, they had been going about this the wrong way. They had been so caught up in scouring the city for Yato that they had somehow missed what was going on right under their noses. Instead of searching for Yato directly, they should have noticed the sudden string of killings, suspected something was happening, and tried tracking them back to their source. Were they really so isolated from the human world that they had missed it all? How had they not suspected a thing?

"That many…?" Yato mused under his breath, eyes dull as unpolished sapphire wandering back and forth along the tabletop apathetically. "It's hard to keep track."

As the initial shock faded, a new thought hit Yukine like a punch to the gut. He had worked so hard to grow stronger and become Yato's guidepost. He had promised Yato that he wouldn't let him kill anyone anymore, that he could help him change himself and be the god of fortune he wanted to be.

And he had failed.

"I-I'm sorry," he rasped. "I–"

Yato shook his head ever so slightly. "It's Father, really." He finally looked up from his listless scrutiny of the tabletop to meet Yukine's horrified gaze. Yukine had never realized how dark his eyes could look when they weren't lit from within with their normal spark, like watery pools stretched tight across a black void. "Do you understand yet? I was created as a tool of destruction. My entire purpose is death and killing. It's what I am."

That managed to cut through Yukine's daze, and he drew himself up in a fit of righteous indignation. "That is not–"

"You're missing the point. I am dangerous, because I was created that way. I am a weapon. Those killings? Those are nothing compared to what I'll do once Father finishes his experiments and sets me loose. Do you have any idea how much more damage I would do if he found a way to make me call you too? It was hard enough to stop him last time, and I'm sure he'll figure out a way around it. I'm dangerous enough without an ayakashi and a hafuri.

"This isn't even just about Father anymore. If he gets his hands on me again—and worse, if he gets his hands on both of us—it will be a bloodbath. I'm sure the heavens could kill me sooner or later, but not before I do some serious damage. This entire scheme of his is turning me into the perfect weapon to kill both gods and humans. We can't take any chances. He needs to be stopped before it gets any worse."

The chilling matter-of-factness leveling every word sent a shiver tickling down Yukine's spine. It wasn't that he didn't already know Yato had been a god of calamity and a killer—and he certainly knew what a phenomenal warrior the god was—but hearing it all laid out like that, worst case scenario, was sobering.

But was it enough to make him give up on finding a way around this that wouldn't kill Yato too? No.

"We can find another way," he said firmly, tamping down his conflicted emotions to present a strong, unyielding front. Two could play this game, and he was as stubborn as they came.

Yato tilted his head and studied Yukine for several seconds before returning his gaze to the table. "I had another shinki, you know. A long time ago."

Once again, Yukine was thrown off balance. "What? You've been around for ages. You've had tons of shinki."

"She was my second," Yato said, sounding oddly detached. "She found me and asked me to name her. She was the first one who taught me that there was a different way to live, that there was more to the world than death. She showed me how to help people instead of kill them. I guess she was my first proper guidepost."

Yukine shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Yato, as a rule, did not talk about his past unless it was forcibly pried out of him, and even then it was only the bare minimum. He kept his cards close to his chest, sometimes so much so that they might as well be tucked behind his ribcage. Yukine often wished he was more open, but right now it was setting his teeth on edge.

"Yato–"

"Father found out about her somehow. Maybe because I asked too many questions, maybe because I didn't want to kill anymore. So he set up a trap and tricked me into killing her."

Yukine stiffened with a jolt, and something twisted deep in his chest. "Yato–"

"She was the closest thing I ever had to a mother," Yato mused to himself, eyes still distant and glassy. "She was the one who named me Yato." He shook his head and looked up, and his eyes were bleak and sharp as broken glass as they pinned Yukine to the spot. "There's a reason he and Nora are so interested in you and Hiyori," he said flatly. "You're bad influences on me. He's just been playing games with you so far, but once he decides keeping you around isn't worth the hassle anymore, he'll take you out himself or have me do it. Right now he wants you, in particular, because I'll be a more efficient killer with Sekki, but he certainly doesn't need you and will cut you out of his plans if you're too much trouble.

"If you won't agree to kill him to put a stop to the threat of the genocide he's planning to unleash, at least consider yourself and Hiyori, because you two are targets right now."

Yukine opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Yato's gaze was so heavy and his words heavier still, and Yukine's brain was racing to fill in all the gaps the god had left in his story. It was bad enough with all the worst parts clearly edited out, but even Yato's expressionless delivery couldn't quite disguise the soul-deep ache buried beneath the words.

"Yato…" Hiyori swallowed hard and her eyes shimmered with moisture. "It's not your fault."

Yato's eyes snapped to her face in a heartbeat and narrowed dangerously. "What do you know?" he asked harshly. She flinched, and he blew out a breath and turned back to Bishamon and the others, whose faces were still frozen in varying states of horror and dismay. "Anyway, it's going to be a lot harder for me to handle him myself like I intended. The second I set foot out of Takamagahara, he's going to stick the ayakashi back in me and then it's game over. And I assume the process will be less…drawn out the second time around."

Everyone stared back at him for a long moment before Kazuma shook himself out of his reverie.

"Ah…" He cleared his throat and fiddled with his glasses some more, his face drawn in tight lines. "Yes, it would be better if you didn't leave Takamagahara for now. It's not worth the risk."

"You can stay here," Bishamon said. Her foot had stopped its rhythmic tapping against the floorboards, and the frantic light in her eyes had dulled. "My team and I can work on locating and eradicating the sorcerer."

Yato's lips flattened into a tight line. "Be careful. Don't underestimate him."

"Of course not."

"We can bring some of your things, if you want," Daikoku said, looking between Yato and Yukine.

"Ooh, we can stay too and it will be just like home!" Kofuku said, although her eyes shone with the gritty brightness of fluorescent lighting rather than genuine sunniness.

"Uh…" Bishamon eyed the unlucky goddess sidelong. "We can…discuss that later." She tapped her finger on the table restlessly as Kofuku pouted. "Do you think he would launch an assault here or attempt to sneak in if you don't return to the lower realm?" she asked Yato.

Yato shrugged. "He might, but probably as a last resort. He still thinks I'll come crawling back when he calls. When I don't, he'll look for a way to…persuade me. He'll probably go after Yukine or Hiyori to lure me out. If it was feasible for Hiyori to stay in Takamagahara too, I'd advocate that. Since it's not…"

"Aiha will stay with her," Bishamon said. "Maybe we can figure out something else as well…"

"We'll keep an eye on her too," Daikoku said.

"And Yukine will stay in Takamagahara," Kazuma added. "We'll increase security on the mansion until the sorcerer is safely defeated. It shouldn't be hard—everyone already knows he's gone after Veena once, so no one will think it's suspicious if we exercise extra caution."

Yukine glanced across Yato and exchanged a look with Hiyori, who looked as shaken and unhappy as he felt. He saw the same knowledge reflected in her eyes, that plans were being made to protect them but Yato's dad would die.

And that was all kinds of messed up, because neither Yukine nor Hiyori wanted to risk Yato disappearing and certainly didn't want to be the reason he was deciding to tempt fate.

"Don't worry so much," Yukine said. "We'll be okay."

"We know the risks," Hiyori added. "We're willing to take them."

Yato's eyes dipped halfway closed, and he began kneading at his forehead lethargically again. Was he looking even paler than earlier? Were the lines carved into his face a little deeper? Maybe he should go back to sleep instead of wasting his breath on being such an idiot.

"No, you two are weak links right now," he said with a sigh. "When he wants to lure me out… Hiyori would be the easier target, but I think he'll go for Yukine first to kill two birds with one stone. That way he can get me and make sure he has Sekki too. He knows I'll look for a way around bringing Yukine with me to fetch Hiyori if he grabs her, because it's too dangerous if he has us both. He might try snatching Hiyori too, but Yukine is a more enticing target."

Yukine swallowed hard. Listening to Yato talk tactics rather than laugh off the threat and whip out Sekki without thinking out a real plan was strangely sobering. And hearing himself laid out as a prime target set Yukine on edge, especially because he could see the chilling practicality of it once Yato spelled it out.

But still…

"He won't catch me," Yukine said with a show of bravado despite his nerves, conveniently ignoring the fact that he had walked right into a trap already in his desperation to find Yato. "We'll be fine." He could almost feel the hypocrisy creeping back up his throat like a slimy thing as he added, "And if he does catch me, just don't come after me. I mean, what can he really do to me anyway?"

Yato snapped upright as if struck by lightning, horror burning away his sickly lethargy in a heartbeat as he stared at Yukine wide-eyed.

"Are you insane?" he demanded, anger and disbelief shining bright in his eyes. "Have you listened to nothing I've said? What, you really think he'll have mercy on you? Please.

"I was younger than you when he put a sword in my hand and taught me that my reason for existence was death. I was younger than you when he asked me to cut off the ears and bring them back as trophies, when he taught me to obey with ayakashi and threats and punishments, when he taught me never to talk to outsiders or think about leaving, when he took to punishing Hiiro and Sakura to keep me in line." The fire in his eyes faded back to something dull and lifeless. "I was younger than you when he tricked me into killing the only person who had ever loved me."

He propped his elbows on the table again and dropped his face into his hands, dark hair falling across his features. "This is why I hate kids," he mumbled into his fingers. "You think you're invincible, like you can survive anything and do whatever you put your mind to as long as you just try hard enough. You feel so big, but you look so small."

Yukine's mouth hung partway open, his heart pounding against his ribcage in a series of sickening thuds. He had pushed Yato a little too far, and learned a little too much in the process. All the fight seemed to have fled the god in one fell swoop, leaving him looking even smaller and more listless than before.

Yukine couldn't regret fighting Yato on this, but he did feel a prickle of guilt for worrying the god so much and, perhaps, unintentionally belittling his own experiences.

For a moment, Yukine could almost see a small, dark-haired child with mournful, haunted eyes sitting in Yato's place. He had never really thought of Yato as a child before and had never seen so deep beneath his sunny mask, but it suddenly hit home, the deeply personal struggle Yato was fighting alongside the battle Yukine had already been aware of.

He didn't know if everyone else was having the same revelation, but they all seemed just as frozen in place, too afraid to speak.

"It's a nice dream," Yato said quietly. "But I've been trying to escape him for centuries already, and it's not likely to change so easily now. He's already much too interested in you. You don't understand… I've been keeping him away from you so far, but I can't protect you forever. I can't even protect myself. I understand your concerns and you're my guidepost so I respect them, but I've dealt with my father for a millennium longer than you have and I have a better idea of what he's capable of. Let me handle things my way."

There was another long pause before Bishamon cleared her throat, the sound too loud in the stillness. "Perhaps if we…"

She trailed back into silence, and no one had the heart to try completing her statement. Yukine chewed the inside of his cheek bloody and twisted his hands together as he watched Yato, who remained slumped over and utterly unreachable. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and reached out, his hand hovering in the air just above the god's arm.

"Yato…"

"Actually…" Yato dropped his hands, his arms falling across each other as they rested back against the table, to reveal a new furrow between his brows and faint frown tugging at his lips. "He's already so interested in you and the danger is great enough that it might be worth considering–"

A flash of clarity struck Yukine like white-hot lightning a second before the words left Yato's mouth, and he jerked his hand back and threw the full force of his anger and desperation at the god to stop them.

"No!" he said sharply. "Don't say it. Don't you dare say it."

Yato sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping like Atlas under the weight of the world as he stared down blankly. "I'm not saying I will, but… It wouldn't solve everything because Father would know I still cared enough to use you against me, but you wouldn't be as big of a target and there wouldn't be the risk of your weapon form falling into my hands if I'm possessed again. Actually, if we cut Hiyori's–"

"Shut up!" Yukine snarled, ignoring the widening of Hiyori's eyes at the unfinished declaration. "You're stuck with us until the end."

"I'm just saying, it's at least worth considering as a possibility if things get any worse."

"No!" Red hazed Yukine's vision, and the violence built up in every tense muscle. And then he exploded, lunging at Yato and shoving his chest hard. Yato let out a yelp, the likes of which Yukine had never heard from him before, and actually toppled out of his chair to sprawl across the floor. "I didn't give you permission to release me! Stupid, good-for-nothing god! Don't you dare even think about it!"

Yukine glared down at the prone god, burning with righteous fury and betrayal and pain. Yato was an absolute idiot if he thought he could pull that off. How could he even consider just cutting Yukine and Hiyori out like that? What were they supposed to do without him? Were they really not worth fighting for until the bitter end?

"Yu-Yukine!" Hiyori spluttered.

"What?" he demanded. "It's not like you–"

A ragged, gargling breath rattled in Yato's throat. He convulsed on the ground, limbs twitching and hands clawing at the floor as he tossed his head to the side.

"Yato?" Yukine's anger fled all at once as he remembered that Yato was hurt…probably exactly where the hafuri had hit him. The god might deserve trouble for being such an idiot, but Yukine didn't want to seriously hurt him. "Are you okay?"

A shudder ran through Yato's body, chest heaving, and a wet, hacking cough escaped his lips.

"Yato!" Hiyori cried. She jumped to her feet, her chair clattering to the ground behind her.

Yukine gaped down at the spasming god as he coughed up a mouthful of blood, followed by another. Crimson droplets spattered the floor and gathered in a shallow puddle.

Yukine breathed out a startled curse and kicked his chair back to fall to his knees beside Yato. "Hey! Hey, Yato, can you hear me? Are you…?"

Yato's eyes, glazed and glassy, slid shut. With a few more twitches and one last burbling cough stained crimson, he went still.

"Move," Bishamon said harshly as she nudged Yukine aside and knelt down beside him, with everyone else crowding around anxiously overhead.

"I–I forgot he was hurt," Yukine managed to choke out past the tightness in his throat. "I didn't mean…"

"Blood?" Kofuku squeaked. "Why is Yato-chan coughing up blood?"

"Unconscious," Bishamon said, no-nonsense even though her face was drawn in tight lines. She checked Yato's pulse and unzipped his jacket. "No, it wasn't you, Yukine. The injuries I gave him aren't deep enough for such a severe symptom. His skin is so hot—he's burning up."

She pushed Yato's shirt up to reveal the mess of bandages wrapped around his stomach and chest. Red seeped through the gauze, but it was the purplish-black blotch peeking out from beneath that sucked all the air out of the room.

"Kazuma," Bishamon said flatly.

"Of course." Kazuma turned away and headed for the door with quick, clipped strides. "I'll get some purification water."

"And fresh bandages, if you will. These need to be changed."

"Yes. I'll be right back."

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving them with the sound of Yato's labored breathing filtering through the dead air.

"Why is he still blighted?" Daikoku asked.

"How did we miss that?" Hiyori demanded, her hands fisting in her skirt.

"We didn't." Bishamon worked at peeling back layers of bandages with steady fingers, but left a thin layer of gauze over the wounds. The blight crept higher with the unraveling, a little bit more uncovered with each layer of gauze removed. "There's no way we could have missed it. We practically doused him with purification water while cleaning him up to make sure the ayakashi didn't get him."

"Then why?" Yukine whispered, his gaze traveling over the blood-spattered floor and Yato's slack face before resting back on the blight creeping out from beneath the bandages.

"I don't know. Obviously the possession is still affecting him somehow. Gods and ayakashi don't mix."

"But–"

"I don't know, Yukine. Let's just take it one step at a time."

Yukine's mouth snapped shut with an audible click as he watched Bishamon fuss over Yato.

"No wonder he's been so out of sorts," Hiyori mumbled. "I thought he was just freaked out, but… He did say that he wasn't feeling well."

Why had they dismissed that? What had Yato said when they'd first rescued him? That it felt like blight all over?

It had been easy to assume that any lingering discomfort would fade quickly or was just a product of his troubled mind. But just because he was broken down by his father's schemes and terrified of losing control of his own body didn't mean that something else wasn't going on too.

The door opened, and Kazuma hurried back in with a medical kit and pitcher of water. Bishamon barely spared him a glance before pulling off the rest of the bandages with a wet slurping sound. Fresh blood welled up from the ugly gashes torn diagonally across Yato's chest, but she quickly cleaned up the area with rags and disinfectant.

It looked worse without the bandages covering it up, and edges of the gouges were stained purple when she rinsed away the blood.

"Cleanse him," she said shortly.

Kazuma nodded and upended the pitcher over the prone god. Purified water rained down in sparkling sheets and splashed over Yato's bare chest.

Everyone stared.

The blight glistened wetly against bone-white skin as it crept ever lower, glossy like spilled ink.