Note: Lol your reviews have been fun to read. Thanks for reading and reviewing ;) And I don't have a strong preference for FFN vs AO3—I kind of use them for different things. Comments are easier to reply to on AO3 so I'm better at keeping up with them, but I like to move them over here to keep everything in one place. I'm still in the process of moving everything over there, on and off, so it's not as caught up. I haven't started moving this one to AO3 yet, so you're getting the exclusive over here lol

Chapter 5

(In which Nora gets into Yukine's head and Yato is smiling like it's all okay.)

Yukine darted furtive looks in every direction as he snuck along the outside wall of the mansion, and then took off at a quick trot that he realized belatedly would be more suspicious than a normal walk. Still, he didn't slow until he'd reached the outskirts of the property and stepped over to the other side. He was still in Takamagahara so he should be safe enough even outside Bishamon's compound, but it put him on edge anyway and he glanced over his shoulder. A few shinki were dotted about the grounds, chatting and strolling around. Nothing out of the ordinary, everything perfectly mundane.

He didn't spot anything particularly alarming, but he knew looks could be deceiving. He was sure Nora was lurking out here somewhere, prowling the outskirts on the sorcerer's orders.

"I am so stupid," he muttered under his breath.

This was a terrible idea, the mother of all terrible ideas. What good could possibly come of it? He was more likely to get himself captured or killed than anything.

"I'm glad you finally realized."

He jumped about a foot in the air and spun around. Nora regarded him with dark, starless eyes that glimmered briefly with halfhearted amusement before dulling back down.

"Nora!"

"Why are you acting so surprised?" she asked. "You were looking for me, weren't you? Why else would you be out here now?"

Yukine opened his mouth to deny the accusation but closed it again with an effort, his teeth clicking and grinding together as he pressed his lips into a tight line. "I need your help," he managed through gritted teeth.

One eyebrow arched high on her forehead. "Oh? Are you and Yato finally ready to turn yourselves over?"

"Of course not!" he said hotly.

"Then I can't do anything for you."

Yukine took a deep breath, held it in for the count of ten, and pushed it out through barely parted lips. He didn't know what he was really expecting from Nora. She would as soon feed him to an ayakashi as offer him a helping hand.

But he was desperate, and there was one teeny tiny thing that gave him the slightest sliver of hope that she might relent.

"I need you to tell me where the ayakashi is," he said.

"I can't do that."

"Yato is dying!" he burst out. He clenched his hands into fists at his sides to quell their trembling and glowered at the other shinki. "He's coughing up blood and the blight is spreading all over and he's in so much pain that it's a struggle just to get out of bed. You care about him, don't you? You don't want him to die. You think his dad went too far this time, right? You have to help him."

A painful spark of hope fluttered in his chest like a butterfly with razor-sharp wings beating at his ribcage. There was nothing he could do for Yato now but this. Standing back and watching his master wither away was a slow death of the heart, and helplessness was the most excruciating feeling of them all.

His desperation to do something—anything—was the only thing that could have driven him here. And what had driven him into Nora's arms and thrown him against her mercy was that however screwed up she was, however twisted her affections, she cared about Yato in her own strange way. He remembered the look in her eyes when she had said their dad went too far, the mute disagreement burning black behind a veil of obedience. He remembered the look on her face, carefully concealed behind a blank façade, as she watched the ayakashi jerk Yato around like a puppet on a string.

She was the sorcerer's pawn and untrustworthy through and through, but Yukine was hoping things had gone far enough that she might side with Yato this time.

She pursed her lips and her eyes glimmered like polished obsidian as she half-turned away from him. "I can't tell you where the ayakashi is."

Yukine's heart sank like a stone, and a heavy, nauseating weight sloshed in his stomach. Of course. He was foolish to think that Nora would side with them after everything.

"Then do something," he pleaded anyway, hating the desperation dripping from every word. He hated to beg, but what other option did he have? "Can't you do anything? He's dying."

The words slapped him hard across the face as they left his mouth, as if he was truly comprehending them for the first time. Despite all the hopelessness and worry and fear, he realized that he still hadn't quite believed Yato might actually die.

"He's dying," he repeated in a small voice.

The silence was deafening, but then Nora's breath escaped her lips in a soft, almost inaudible puff. "I can't," she said. "Father always gets his way. He can save Yato, but only if he comes back."

"But it's too cruel to–"

"I guess it's up to Yato to decide how much life is worth to him—if it's worth an ayakashi taking it over in order for him to keep any little bit of it at all." Her eyes traced loops on the ground. "He won't be himself, but he also won't be dead. You would have to decide if it's worth it. But he would live and, theoretically, if you were still looking for a way to free him, you would buy some time. It depends on if you're ready to give up or you want to keep fighting."

"Of course I want to keep fighting," Yukine snapped, stung. "But to hand him back over to his dad is…"

Nora shrugged. "You thought it would be easy? Black and white? You're still so young, naïve. Sometimes it takes hard choices to win a war."

Yukine opened his mouth, closed it again. Handing Yato back over to his dad would be unimaginably cruel. Yukine wanted to save him, but at what cost? Could he really justify sacrificing dozens of lives and turning Yato into a slave to keep him alive? And even if he did, what if he never found a way to free his master?

He shook his head. In the end, he knew it didn't matter.

"He won't do it," he said. "He said that he would rather die than go back, and he meant it. He would never agree."

Nora looked up then, piercing gaze peeling back his ribcage and scouring his heart. "Then convince him."

Nora's words burrowed deep into Yukine's brain and played on a loop in the back of his mind. He had never really considered convincing Yato to go back to his dad. For obvious reasons. Being possessed by an ayakashi might be a fate worse than death, and the risk posed to the world at large would be astronomical.

Still…

Yukine hadn't made a final decision and he knew it would be a terrible plan steeped in catastrophe, but for the first time it was on the table. Even considering it was an uncomfortable itch on his conscience, like he was betraying Yato just by pondering the possibility, but just thinking couldn't do any harm, right?

"I think we should do something," he blurted out before he thought better of it.

Yato fell silent, his mouth frozen mid-word, and Yukine flushed as he realized he hadn't heard a word the god had said in ages. Probably not since Kofuku and Daikoku had left again. Yato had been rambling about something or other while they waited for Hiyori to get out of school and Bishamon to give up on ayakashi hunting for the day, but Yukine had been so busy fighting his own thoughts and worrying over the fact that Yato hadn't even tried to get out of bed today that he had barely noticed.

He picked at his sleeve and straightened in the chair he'd dragged over to the bedside. Yato refolded his legs beneath the covers and brightened considerably.

"Like a game?" he suggested. "Ooh, we could–"

"No, I mean… Like, do something to take care of the whole blight problem."

Yukine still wasn't sure of this course of action, but he couldn't stand to sit here and pretend everything was okay for another minute. Yato was ashen and feverish, with dull eyes smudged with shadows like bruises and a semi-permanent crease of pain between his brows that took obvious effort to smooth away when he smiled. How could he still joke around and ignore the issue like nothing was wrong? That wasn't right.

Now his smile faltered a little. "Bishamon and Kazuma are out searching. We just have to wait for them."

"They're getting nowhere," Yukine said dismissively. "We can't keep relying on them. We should do something about it."

Yato sighed and slouched over, his shoulders hunching around his ears. "We can't leave," he said as he plucked listlessly at the blanket stretched across his lap. "Father would be all over us the instant we set foot outside of Takamagahara."

"Have you…? Have you thought about doing it?"

"The risk of getting caught is too high. It's not worth–"

"I mean, have you thought about…?" Yukine swallowed convulsively and licked his chapped lips. "Have you thought about just going back with your dad?"

Yato went so still that he seemed frozen in time, and the disbelief shining in his eyes bordered on betrayal. "What?"

Yukine winced, but he didn't know how to soften that particular inquiry. It seemed unbearably ugly no matter how he looked at it.

"I just mean… If we can't kill the ayakashi in time, have you thought about maybe letting your dad save you?"

"Of course not," Yato said. The sharpness of his gaze could cut diamond, and he regarded Yukine with a coolness the shinki was unfamiliar with.

"Just…" Yukine's swallow rasped along his dry throat. "I mean, it would be horrible, but… At least we could buy some time to find another way?"

His voice grew smaller and smaller and ended in question, and the defensive fire in Yato's eyes faded.

"It's not worth it," the god said more gently. "He can do too much damage, even in a short time. And I… I don't want to go back. Not again. Not to this."

"It doesn't even have to be that," Yukine mumbled. "Just… Can't we do something?"

"We can't leave. We'll just have to wait for Bishamon."

"But you don't even think she's going to find it. You said so from the beginning. If we want to fix this, we need to do it ourselves."

Yato looked so tired slumped over on the bed, so resigned. "There's nothing else we can do right now."

Yukine stared, disbelief bubbling up in his chest and etching his throat with acid. He didn't understand. Yato had always had so much fire, had always fought tooth and nail to win. To live. The Yato of the past few days was painfully unfamiliar, and no amount of halfhearted teasing and joking could eclipse that.

And suddenly, Yukine was angry. That disbelief burned like fire, scorching him from the inside out.

"You're just going to do nothing?" he demanded. "You're just going to sit back and die?"

Yato winced. "Yuki–"

"You're just giving up?" A flash of understanding struck Yukine like lightning, and he gawked at the wilted god. "You already gave up. You gave up from the very beginning. You haven't done anything ever since we found you."

Yato's face was pinched tight, and his eyes dulled to the murkiness of unpolished sapphire. "I–"

"You're so selfish!" Yukine seethed. "What are Hiyori and I going to do, huh? Have you even thought about that?"

Yato's shoulders hunched under the weight of the world. "You'll be okay."

Yukine couldn't deny that he had hit and otherwise maimed Yato many times over the year they had known each other. He was easily fed up with the god's antics, and Yato deserved to be pushed around sometimes. But now he wanted to hit the idiot like he never had before, hit and hit and hit until he couldn't lift his fists anymore. Hit him until there was nothing left and the whirlwind of broken glass swirling inside his chest died back down to a lull.

Because what the hell was that supposed to mean? What made Yato think that Yukine and Hiyori would just be okay?

Yukine couldn't hit Yato now, not when he was fast succumbing to his injuries, but he could do the next best thing.

"I hate you!" he yelled. Everything was red and hot and hurt. "How dare you? I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

He could have kept going forever, but that was when the door flew open behind him. He was so caught up in the storm that he barely registered Bishamon trying to calm him down. When she tried to take his arm, he jerked away and stormed back out of the room.

"If he wants to kill himself, then let him kill himself," he spat. "See if I care." He paused and looked back at Yato, small and lost and listless hunched over in the bed. The whirlwind of rage calmed to something sharp and bittersweet. "See if I care," he repeated more quietly.

He didn't stick around to see how deeply the words had cut. Leaving Bishamon to deal with Yato, he pushed past Kuraha and Kazuma lingering in the doorway and stomped off down the hall. He got a few wide-eyed looks from shinki dotted around the hallway and wondered exactly how loudly he'd been shouting.

He didn't want to deal with any of it, so he wandered off to lose himself in the maze of hallways and find a dark corner to hide in. His hidey-hole turned out to be a linen closet buried somewhere deep in the heart of the mansion. He crawled inside, curled up in the stacks of folded blankets and sheets, and stewed in his own impotence and Yato's selfishness. He left the door ajar to let in a sliver of light, but the dark was the farthest thing from his mind.

Yato didn't want to be helped, and Yukine was tired of trying to carry him. He didn't want to think about Yato at all. He was tired of thinking about Yato day in and day out, worrying all the time when the god wasn't even going to try.

It was a small eternity before the door creaked the rest of the way open and he had to squint against the influx of light. He opened his mouth to chew out whoever had dared disturb his sanctuary, but the words died in his throat as Hiyori's worried face came into view. He wondered how she had found him—if she had searched high and low or someone had monitored his escape and reported back.

"I thought you were in school," he croaked.

"School's out," she said. "Yato called and said I should find you because you were upset."

"I'm angry," he muttered, wondering what the hell Yato thought he was doing.

Hiyori hesitated, chewing on her lower lip, but then sat down with her back to the wall right beside the doorway. Her cord peeked out from behind her as she pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

Yukine waited for her to offer any of the many platitudes people were supposed to offer. To tell him that she understood or things were going to be alright or he shouldn't be mad at someone who was dying.

"Why?" she asked instead.

He blinked at her uncertainly and then scowled at the ground again. "Because he won't do anything to help himself and he won't let us help him either. He just gave up. He's just, like…waiting to die. He's so selfish and I'm so angry at him."

Hiyori sat there quietly for a few moments and then murmured, "Yeah, me too."

Yukine looked up in surprise, then crawled out of the closet to sit next to her against the wall. "You are?"

"Yeah." She huffed out a shaky laugh. "I'm mad that he ran off on his own and tried to kill his father and isn't coming up with some crazy plan to save himself. How dare he just give up after everything, you know? But he doesn't usually give up, so I have to wonder… I have to wonder what happened to him with his dad that made him decide it wasn't worth it to keep fighting."

Yukine looked at the ground. He didn't want to hear that, even if it had been a suspicion already chewing at the back of his mind. He would rather be angry.

"I can't handle him right now," he muttered.

"I know it's hard. It's been hard on all of us." Hiyori sighed, and Yukine noted the pinched look tightening her features. She looked as pained and worn out as he suspected he did. "All we can do is help out however we can and hope for the best. We aren't giving up." She straightened up a bit and smiled at him. "By the way, Bishamon and Kazuma suggested we go out front for a while. Get some sun and all. Yato seemed pretty excited about it—being cooped up is driving him crazy, I think. We'll stay on the grounds, so it should be fine."

"That's okay. You go."

Hiyori huffed out a breath. "You can't hide in the closet forever."

Watch me.

"I don't want to deal with him right now."

Hiyori stayed quiet for so long that Yukine wondered why she didn't just leave, but then she said, quietly, "You might not be able to deal with him for much longer." A nauseous feeling sloshed in Yukine's stomach, but she continued on. "We shouldn't avoid him, even when he's being a pain. We should be there to help when an opportunity presents itself. And if it doesn't… If it doesn't, we should be there while we can."

Yukine didn't say anything, but he hunched his shoulders and pulled himself to his feet and followed Hiyori back through the halls and out to the grassy lawn in front of the mansion. It was a beautiful day, just like all days in Takamagahara. Warmer than Earth's winter would suggest, sunny, everything vibrant and colorful. Yukine would have killed for a storm cloud to mar the too-blue sky, or even just a bit of overcast gray to dull it all down. Such nice weather made him want to feel good, and he was feeling anything but good.

Yato was sprawled across the grass on his back, grinning up at Bishamon as she stared down at him, eyes twitching. A few other shinki were enjoying the weather as well, but they didn't wander over. Yukine had snapped at most of them at least once over the past few days, and they were learning to leave him alone.

His footsteps faltered, but Hiyori nudged him with her elbow to encourage him a step or two further. That was the moment Yato noticed them and propped himself up on his elbows to grin in their direction. He shifted his weight to one arm in order to wave enthusiastically, and nearly lost his balance and toppled over.

"Heeey!" he called. "Look who it is! Now that you're done playing hide and seek, let's have a picnic! It's such a nice day, isn't it? Been way too long since we've had some fresh air."

Yukine drew to a stop. Yato still looked like death warmed over, but there was a little more color to his face, like the fresh air really was doing him some good. Was that enough to erase everything from earlier?

Of course not.

Yato's eyes were still ringed with shadow, murky and closed-off. If eyes were the windows to the soul, Yato's were closed and covered with blackout curtains. The pain was well-hidden beneath the smile, but it lined his face despite his best efforts. He was a mess.

But he was going to laze around and pretend that everything was okay? He was going to ignore Yukine's behavior and his own pain and impending death to carry on like nothing was happening? Yukine was so tired of it. The only thing Yato hadn't given up on was acting like everything was normal. Who did he think he was fooling? Himself?

"Forget it," Yukine growled. He spun on his heel and marched off to sulk on the opposite side of the lawn.

"Yukineee!" Yato wailed after him. "Where are you going? Let's have a picnic and play games!"

Yukine wanted to do no such thing, and shrugged off Hiyori when she tried to protest. Yato called her and she reluctantly headed over after giving the shinki one last look. No one came after him, so someone must have an idea that he would rather be left alone.

He did his very best to ignore Yato entirely, but still found himself darting looks in his direction more often than he'd like. Occasionally he caught Hiyori looking back, worried and unhappy. Whenever Yato caught him looking, he just grinned and waved and yelled for him to come over.

Yukine ignored that, but watched through sidelong glances and quick peeks as Yato picked himself up off the ground and made a nuisance of himself. And if he seemed a little too sluggish and not quite as active as usual, who could blame him?

Because Yukine was watching from afar, he caught the moment when everything fell apart.

The smile froze on Yato's face and his eyes went glassy. He stopped mid-word, freezing in place and teetering on the edge of a step not taken. And then he pitched forward. Someone screamed as he hit the ground, but Yukine stood rooted to the spot. He watched in horrified fascination as the god's body spasmed and a pool of crimson clotted the grass and crept ever further like spilled ink.

It was surreal, like it was happening to someone else, and everything had a muffled sort of quality like it was playing out underwater or on a movie screen.

And then reality crashed down over him like a tsunami, and suddenly the noises were loud and blaring and everything was knife-sharp in its clarity. It was all so much, so totally overwhelming, but Yukine's shock quickly bled into cold panic. He took off at full speed as Hiyori and Bishamon crowded around the convulsing god, followed by a ring of alarmed shinki.

"What do we do? What do we do?" Hiyori repeated in a high-pitched voice as she hovered over their friend, white-faced and wide-eyed. "Yato? Yato?"

Yukine dropped to his knees in the grass and grabbed Yato's shoulder to flip him over. He changed his mind as the god promptly began choking on his own blood, and shoved him onto his side instead. Yato's eyes were vacant, and red smeared his pale skin. He shook like a leaf and curled up partway as the coughs racked his body.

"Yato!" Yukine said, voice sharp with fear.

Yato didn't respond. He jerked again, and Yukine pulled his hand away. His fingers grazed feverish skin, and fire exploded across his hand.

He scrambled back with a sharp intake of breath and looked down at his hand. Purplish-black stained his fingers, slowly spreading up his hand. His heart jumped into his throat as he looked back at Yato.

Blight was creeping out from under Yato's collar, staining his neck and creeping along his jaw, and poking out from beneath the cuff of his sleeve to eat away at the back of his right hand.

"What happened?" Aiha demanded, backing up a few steps.

So much for hiding Yato's condition. The first time they took him outside, he collapsed in front of everyone. Figured. That was Yato—always causing problems. A hysterical laugh bubbled in Yukine's chest, but it stuck in his throat before hitting the air.

"Kazuma!" Bishamon called, looking around. "Where is he?"

Kuraha didn't wait around for Kazuma to make an appearance. He bent over and scooped Yato up, holding the thrashing god tight.

"Be careful of the blight," Bishamon warned.

He gave her a flat look and strode quickly across the lawn. Yukine scrambled after him, and Hiyori was even faster in her desperation. Bishamon waved off the crowd of worried shinki without even an attempt to be reassuring as she rushed after them.

Yato convulsed once more and went limp. His eyes slid shut, and his breathing was shallow and quick. Blood dribbled down his chin, but at least he wasn't coughing it up anymore. Not that there was much left to cough up, if the crimson puddle soaking into the ground behind them was any indication.

Yukine trotted alongside Kuraha to poke at Yato and ask shrill questions, but Yato was well and truly unconscious despite his and Hiyori's best efforts.

"His room," Bishamon was saying to Kuraha. "Just take him to his room for now. There's not much else we can do. If only we still had a doctor… Where is Kazuma?"

When Kuraha shouldered his way into the spare room and put Yato down on the bed, the god didn't move. He was so still and lifeless, and the smeared blood and blight only added to the aura of death.

"You should go," Bishamon said tightly.

Yukine shook himself out of his stupor to draw himself up to his full height and glare at her. "No way! You can't make me!"

"The blight. You need to cleanse the blight."

He looked down at the blight creeping along his hand. It stung, but it was nothing compared to what Yato was enduring. How could Yukine just leave, even for a few minutes? What if he left and Yato died?

"Later," he said.

Bishamon blew out a breath and softened her voice with obvious effort. "You need to take care of it before it gets worse. Kuraha will go with you."

Yukine shot a sidelong look at Kuraha, who had managed to get blight on his hands as well.

"I don't know…"

"I'll stay," Hiyori said in a thick voice, unable to pull her gaze from Yato even long enough to look at him. "He's not going to be left alone."

"He'll still be here when you come back," Bishamon added.

Yukine hesitated, but Kuraha ushered him towards the door.

"Come on," he said. "We'll only be a minute."

"If you see Kazuma, tell him what happened," Bishamon said absently as she leaned over the bed to get a closer look at Yato. "Maybe we'd better tell Kofuku and Daikoku as well."

Yukine got one last glimpse of Yato's unmoving body before being herded out the door, and it left him in a cold sweat. What if this was it?

He rushed down the hall, begrudging every step that took him farther away and every second that dared drag between them.

"What, exactly, is wrong with your master?" Kuraha asked as he cut Yukine off from hurrying down the wrong hallway and redirected him in the proper direction to get to the spring. "I'm guessing there's a pressing reason why we're searching for this ayakashi."

"They're still connected," Yukine said. "It has to be killed or it will keep blighting him. We just don't want anyone else to know about the possession or how bad it's getting. It's been going on for days and he won't do anything about it, just jokes around and smiles as if everything is normal, and I hate him for it."

He choked out a strangled laugh and rushed to splash purification water over his blight. "He's dying and I hate him for it."

Kuraha was quiet as he bathed his blight in the water, and Yukine put his shields back up to deflect the questions he wasn't going to answer.

"No," Kuraha said finally, "you don't hate him. You're scared, that's all."

Yukine opened his mouth to protest, but then snapped it shut again and looked down at his hands. Water dripped off his fingers, and his skin was pale and unblemished again. Like magic. Why wouldn't it work for Yato?

"I told him that I hated him," he said in a small voice.

A damp hand rested heavily on his shoulder, and Kuraha's grizzled features softened. "When you're afraid of heights, you climb. When you're afraid of drowning, you learn how to swim. Sometimes you just have to face your fears."

"But I don't know how," Yukine mumbled.

"You'll figure it out," Kuraha said. "In the meantime… Have you considered that your master is afraid too?"

Yukine scoffed. "Yato? Yato doesn't get scared."

"Everyone gets scared. He hasn't been acting differently lately?"

Yukine opened his mouth to say that if anything, Yato was acting too much the same, but he remembered the terrified look in the god's eyes as he stared at his father and the ayakashi across the borderline. The way he seemed to be giving up when he would normally fight to the last breath.

"He…"

"Perhaps," Kuraha said as he steered Yukine back down the hallway, "pretending everything is normal is his way of avoiding facing his fear, like anger is yours."

Yukine had nothing to say to that. He wondered what else was lurking behind Yato's pained smile and murky eyes.

"I don't want him to die," he whispered.

Kuraha smiled a little sadly. "Neither does he."

Kazuma had arrived by the time they returned. He and Bishamon seemed to be throwing together plans for what they should do next.

"…and in the meantime, we'll just have to tell the others that the sorcerer's attack did more damage than we thought," Bishamon was saying. "Everyone knows about his strange ayakashi by now—maybe it won't be too unbelievable that they're having more devastating effects on gods. The ones who know about the possession will put the pieces together, but we don't have to spread it around to those who don't."

"Yes." Kazuma stayed quiet for a moment, lips pressed together as he frowned down at Yato. "We're running out of time."

The hopeless finality in his voice could have knocked Yukine to his knees.

"We'll figure it out," Bishamon reassured him, but her face was tight.

Yukine pulled up a chair beside Hiyori, who was curled up by the bedside. They sat in silent vigil as Kuraha was ushered out and Bishamon and Kazuma swapped half-baked schemes and speculations. There was nothing to say when they shared the same thoughts and fears.

They sat like that until Bishamon reminded Hiyori that it was well after dark in the lower realm, and even then she was reluctant to go.

"I hate always having to leave," Hiyori croaked.

For the first time, Yukine understood. He had thought Hiyori had it all, living two lives side by side with all the perks that came with them. But at the end of the day, she had to choose one or the other and she couldn't always pick the one she wanted. At least Yukine could stay without worrying about another life that needed tending. Hiyori had another world. Yukine had Yato.

"Call me if anything happens," she added. "Or if he wakes up."

"Of course," Yukine mumbled. "I'll stay with him."

And he did. Even when Bishamon tried to convince him to get some sleep while someone else took a turn sitting vigil, he stayed curled up in the chair by Yato's side, waiting for any sign that things would be okay.