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Chapter 10

(In which Yukine is not adjusting well, Bishamon is trying her best, and they take their best shot at rescuing Yato together.)

Yukine stormed out of the makeshift training room—too many people were liable to see him in Bishamon's hands like the newest pet added to her collection if they tested his new form outside, so instead they'd picked the biggest, most private room they could find inside the mansion and locked everyone else out—and left Bishamon and her shinki shaking their heads after him. He didn't care what they thought.

Hiyori followed, hurrying to keep up with his brisk pace. "Yukine…"

"I don't want to talk about it," he growled.

He shook his head as if he could shake Bishamon right out of it, and the resulting failure only soured his mood further. That Bishamon hadn't been on board with this idea from the beginning and he'd had to practically beg her to name him did nothing to soften his uncharitable thoughts.

Hiyori sighed and followed him back to his room, still gnawing on the inside of her cheek. "Just–"

"Who do they think they are?" he burst out, slamming the door shut behind them and clenching his hands into fists. "Where does Bishamon get off acting like she owns me? Or Kazuma acting like he can just tell me what to do? Like I'm one of them?"

The session had been nothing but disastrous from start to finish. Yukine quickly grew frustrated with Bishamon trying to wield him strangely and the other shinki getting in his way and Kazuma ordering him around.

"I'm not Yato," Bishamon had cautioned. "That's why shinki take a form useful to the god. I'm not going to use you the same way. You have to learn to be part of a team. And you might be Yato's exemplar, but Kazuma is mine. While you work with us, you follow his instructions. He has the authority under me. If you want us to help you help Yato, you have to do it our way."

It left Yukine seething. He didn't belong to them, and had no intention of blindly following Kazuma's orders after everything. He would save Yato himself. This was only a temporary measure. He only needed them to keep him out of Yato's grasp until the ayakashi was killed. He still belonged to Yato—he wasn't one of them.

"But Yukine," Hiyori said in a voice that was almost a whisper, her eyes shining with pity, "you are now, aren't you?"

Yukine drew up short, his relentless pacing effectively stilled. Even his breathing seemed to stop. Maybe the world even stopped turning.

He could complain all he wanted, rage against the unfairness of it all, but no extenuating circumstances could change what he had done. What he had become. He was still a nora, no matter how pretty his intentions. Even 'temporary' left scars.

"Yukine? Yukine, breathe!"

He blinked at Hiyori in bewilderment as she appeared in front of him as if by magic and shook him gently by the shoulders. Why did she look so worried?

She guided him to sit down on the bed, and only then did he realize that he wasn't still after all but trembling like a leaf in a windstorm.

"I don't know if I can do this," he rasped. His voice grated along his throat like sandpaper.

"Of course you can." The worry on Hiyori's face was replaced with steely determination. Her grip tightened on his shoulders and she held him firm. "We already talked this through. This is the best chance we have."

"I–I know that, but…"

Her eyes softened. "You told me not to let you back out, even if you started having second thoughts. It's hard, I know, and you're sacrificing so much to make this work. And if anyone can do it, it's you. You've been so brave this whole time, and now we're so close."

"I don't feel brave," Yukine mumbled. Hiyori blurred and wavered, and he blinked fast. "I…I'm terrified."

"Of course you are," she said. "You'd be foolish not to be. The bravest people aren't the ones who don't feel fear, but the ones who overcome it. Things are going to finally start going our way—I can feel it. Just you wait. You just have to work with Bishamon a little, and tomorrow you'll save Yato and you can have Bishamon release you. Just like that. This won't last much longer—we're going to win. We're going to be okay. All of us."

Yukine wanted to believe her. He wanted to get caught up in her determination and faith. He wanted to forget about Yato's plight and his new status as a nora and all the people who were dying and the fact that even if they could save Yato now, the heavens would continue to target his dad. He wanted that black-and-white optimism.

He wanted to be able to hide his worries as well as Hiyori, because he knew that she knew all of these things too.

"Yeah," he said with a wobbly smile. "I'll save him for sure."

He didn't have any other choice. This needed to be done, no matter the complications hovering at the periphery. Failure was not an option. Neither was turning back.

Hiyori smiled back, and if her smile was a little wobbly too, he pretended not to notice. "Of course you will."

Yukine swallowed hard and nodded, and Hiyori sat with him quietly while he worked at calming himself. He focused on his breathing: in and out, in and out. Gradually, it slowed, along with his heartbeat. As the tension eased from his muscles, heavy exhaustion took its place. Being so wound up constantly seemed to sap his energy when he wasn't paying attention.

His hand dipped into his pocket, and his fingers ran idly across the phone tucked away there. He pulled it out and stared down at the tangible reminder of the god he needed to save. More than anything, he wanted to give this back to its rightful owner.

He flipped it open and fiddled around with it, remembering how Yato spent afternoons glued to the screen while harassing Hiyori or answered calls with enthusiasm for his silly jobs. The screen flickered to life, and his eyes widened as he read the time there.

"It's almost ten!" he said. "Your parents are going to be worried!"

Hiyori smiled a little sheepishly. "It's easy to lose track of time up here, huh? It's okay. I wanted to stay and make sure you were okay."

Yukine pressed his lips together and swallowed down the lump in his throat. "Thanks," he mumbled. "I'll be fine. You should go home."

She squeezed his hand before sliding off the bed. "I guess so. But you have my number. Call me if you need anything."

Yukine followed her out of the room, feeling a bit like a lost puppy as he trailed after her down the hall to pick up Kinuha, who was still playing bodyguard. He avoided the eyes of everyone he passed and wished he was back in his room, but he also wasn't quite ready to be alone. Maybe Hiyori realized that, because she bit her lip and lingered in the doorway until he forced a smile and said goodnight.

He hated watching her walk away. It was bad enough that Yato was gone. He wanted her to stay.

He slunk back to his room with his tail between his legs and flopped down on his bed with his face buried in the blankets. There was something satisfying about having to fight just a little for each warm, stale breath past the fabric bunched around his mouth. It gave him something to focus on, maybe. It hurt.

Not the breathing, really. Just everything.

He wondered if that tight ache in his chest was what Yato felt when his shinki's emotions started going haywire, if that was what he meant when he fisted his hand absently above his chest and looked at Yukine and said, What's wrong? You're being a real pain today.

That hurt too, so Yukine focused on his muffled breathing—in and out, in and out—and let it lull him halfway to sleep. That hazy place somewhere halfway between wakefulness and sleep was not usually comforting, except that he was half-convinced he could feel Yato sitting on the bed next to him, swinging his legs like a child and scrolling idly through his phone while rambling about capypers and looking for messages from Hiyori.

He was startled out of his half-formed dreams by a knock, and the door was swinging open before he had the chance to sit up and blink at the intruder groggily.

"You should eat something," Kuraha said. Leaving the door open, he crossed the floor to put a tray of food on the bedside table. "It's been a long day, and you'll need your strength for tomorrow."

A queasy sort of feeling roiled in Yukine's stomach as he eyed the food with distaste. "I'm not hungry."

"Eat," Kuraha advised. "You'll thank yourself for it later. Besides, if your master is still aware in there somewhere, you wouldn't want to worry him, would you?"

He looked like he wanted to say something else but bit it back with some difficulty, which meant he had more self-restraint than Kazuma on the topic. It undoubtedly had to do with Bishamon, but Yukine didn't want to think about her. She wasn't his master, not really. Not for long.

Still, Kuraha knew how to get his attention. Yukine didn't know how much Yato could feel from him anymore, but he definitely didn't want to make this any worse than it had to be. He passed over most of the food, but took the roll from beside the bowl of soup and began picking at it.

Kuraha nodded his approval and turned away. He made it to the doorway before turning back.

"I know…it's been hard," he said, choosing his words carefully. "And turning to us for help wasn't easy and wasn't your first choice. But we'll help you, you know. It's okay to work with us instead of fighting us every step of the way."

Yukine grunted a sound of acknowledgement and poked at the bread until Kuraha sighed and slipped back out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

Yukine nibbled at the roll and squished fluffy bread between his fingers until it coalesced into a doughy lump. The bite stuck in his throat as he remembered smuggling bread to Yato's room just days before.

"I feel so special, getting dinner in bed."

Yukine swallowed the memories down with his halfhearted snack, but it still felt a little like he was choking. He burrowed beneath the covers and curled into a ball. The hard crust of the roll crunched in his fist, sprinkling the sheets with a liberal helping of crumbs.

It was too much remembering Yato like this, worn down and upset from his dad's phone call but smiling like his life depended on it. A choked, animal sound shuddered in Yukine's chest and crawled up his throat like a living thing, and he curled ever tighter. He shouldn't cry, it would hurt Yato, but he didn't even know if Yato was still himself buried deep down somewhere beneath the ayakashi. He didn't know if Yato could feel him at all anymore.

"I can't tell if he's upset or it's just the blight eating at me. It hurts too much to feel his pain past it anymore. I can see it in his face, but I don't feel it the way I used to. It's lonely."

Oh, but it was. Sometimes it had been quite annoying that Yato could feel his emotions, sometimes a touch invasive, but now that it was—or might be—gone, it left Yukine feeling like a piece of himself was missing. Like he was entirely alone now, when before there had always been someone there.

But that was almost preferable to imagining Yato trapped inside his own body, able to feel everything and helpless to do anything about it.

"I would rather die."

Yukine couldn't bear to think what Yato's dad might be doing to him now. And of the people who were dying because of his decision. And of Hiyori, threatened and in danger.

And the fact that he was a nora now, had betrayed his master again and again and finally taken on a new name to seal the deal. He was a broken shinki. He didn't want to know what Yato would think when he realized what he'd done.

"I hope you don't find someone you like better than me!"

What if it was all for nothing and Yukine couldn't even save Yato after all this? What if Yato was gone? Gone for good? What if he couldn't be rescued from the ayakashi or Bishamon killed him?

What if they saved him and he died anyway when the heavens found his dad?

"I don't think this is going to end well… But you're a tough kid. You'll be okay."

Yukine was afraid that only one of those things was true.

So he wrapped himself up in his blanket cocoon and cried, with only a crumbly bread roll for company. He wanted to believe, to have faith that things would be alright, but Yato was the one with the stupid, childish optimism and the world was looking gray and bleak without it.

He cried for a long time before someone knocked on the door. By that point, he had been reduced to sniffles and that empty ache that came when the tears ran out but the pain was all still there.

"Yuki?" Bishamon asked hesitantly, her voice muffled by the door. "Can I come in?"

Yukine pulled the blanket over his head and didn't answer, hoping she'd go away. Unfortunately, he heard the door creak open and then shut again. He stayed still and hoped she'd think he was asleep. Sure, the lights were still on, but everyone knew he was afraid of the dark.

"Are you okay?" Bishamon let out a breath. "No, that's a silly question. I know you aren't."

Right, because he had let her name him and now she could feel him too. Something sharp and bitter welled up in his chest.

"Go away," he rasped.

He had the presence of mind to feel a little bad about hurting her, but it was hard to care too much about a few aches and pains when Yato was…

Was what?

Yukine would have given anything to know.

"I can't do that," Bishamon said quietly. Her footsteps tapped across the floor and paused by the bed. "I know you're upset." When he didn't answer, she sighed. "I know you want Yato and you don't want to belong to anyone else, but…for as long as you're my shinki, I also have a responsibility to you. Whatever the circumstances, whatever our differences, we're family now. So let me stay with you."

Yukine pulled the covers up just a little and peeked out, sharp words building on the tip of his tongue. Bishamon winced at the expression on his face and stepped away from the bed. Instead, she pulled up a chair from the small table across the room and sat herself down in it a couple paces away.

"I'm not trying to take his place," she said. "I'll stay over here. But for as long as you bear the name I gave you, however unwillingly, I will be here."

Yukine didn't know what to say to that. That kind of intimacy felt uncomfortable, like he was betraying Yato again by accepting it. He didn't like it. But there was also nothing he could do about it yet, so he said nothing.

Bishamon seemed to take his silence as encouragement. "Things will get better," she said with confidence Yukine felt was unwarranted, especially given her overall pessimistic view of the situation that she hadn't bothered to hide up until now. "Tomorrow is the best chance we'll have. We finally have the element of surprise. You're our secret weapon. We'll get him back, and then…"

She trailed off. And then what? She'd release Yukine and Yato would be magically okay and everything would go back to the way it was before? She would leave Yato's dad alone and he would leave Yato alone? Just like that?

Yukine could see, from the hesitation in her eyes, that she didn't know how to end that statement either.

"What a mess," she mumbled under her breath, deflating a little. She caught him looking and smiled halfheartedly. "I guess you don't want to hear that unless it's true, huh? But it could be. It is our best shot. We're going to do our best."

If Yukine felt like talking to her, he'd say that she had been claiming to do her best this whole time and hadn't managed to accomplish much.

"You're going so far, giving up so much… If anyone can help us finally win, it's you." Why did she sound like she was trying to soothe a wounded animal? Especially when she thought all his choices were wrong in the first place? "It's okay to be upset. You've been through a lot. But you're being so brave and–"

Yukine sat up in a flurry of blankets and glared. Bishamon's mouth snapped shut with an audible click.

"Everyone keeps saying that," he said angrily. His fists tightened into balls, crumpling sheets and crunching stale bread. "You say that, but you're forgetting that it's because Yato is. He's the one who almost died to save me from myself in the beginning, who burst right into your deathtrap to rescue Hiyori when he thought you'd kidnapped her, who never told you the truth about what happened to your shinki to protect Kazuma, who stood up to the heavens for you. Of course I would do anything for him—he would do anything for me. For us. No matter how annoying he is and how self-centered he can seem, he's always sacrificed himself for us. But when he's in trouble, suddenly things are too hard or complicated. It's not fair."

Bishamon leaned back in the chair, her brows knitting together in an absent frown as she studied him. She was quiet for a long time, thoroughly uncowed by his glower.

"Even Yato has his limits," she said finally. "He can be an idiot, but he's not stupid. There are things he wouldn't do for us. But I guess that's irrelevant to your real point. To be fair, we do help him. You became his hafuri and have protected him more times than I can count, Hiyori made him a shrine and is constantly looking for ways to help, Kazuma tried to support him on and off for centuries while hiding it from me, and I went to Yomi to try saving him. It isn't that we don't—or won't—do everything we can for him when it comes down to it.

"But you're right. He's done a lot for us, and he deserves to have us do the same for him. I know it seems like nothing is happening because you aren't seeing results, but we have been doing our best."

"Maybe that's not good enough," Yukine said, but his voice was small and brittle now.

"Maybe it's not," Bishamon conceded. "But it's the best we've got. And now we've got one shot to hit the sorcerer hard and take him by surprise. If we mess this up, it might be over, even if we keep trying. But if we get it right, we have a real chance. You can't go into it believing the worst. This is the best chance we've had since we lost him again. The best.

"And… Even if… If things don't work out…I promised Yato that I would take care of you."

Yukine bristled at the idea of a decidedly temporary state of affairs becoming distressingly permanent. "I don't need you to take care of me," he snarled.

"Maybe it's just wishful thinking. I want to think that he'll be okay, even when I'm gone."

Yukine didn't want another master, didn't want anyone else trying to take care of him. If Yato was gone, then…

Yukine didn't know what then.

Bishamon seemed unfazed by his outburst. "I know you don't want to think about that," she said gently. "It's a scary what-if. And you don't want some new master barging in to take his place. I get it. But if something does happen, you'll have to pick yourself up and move on, even if you're grieving. It's hard to think about, but… It wouldn't be a betrayal to Yato, you know, to take a new master once he's gone. It's not a betrayal to him to keep living and learn to be happy again. He would understand. He would want that for you.

"So if it does come to that…" She leaned forward, amethyst eyes sparkling earnestly as she searched Yukine's face. "You already have a place here, now. I'll release you if we get Yato back. But if things go wrong, you can stay. You will still have a place here, with us. I know it's not what you want and I know it wouldn't be the same, but it would be yours."

The urge to scream or slap her or run away faded to a dull ache behind Yukine's eyes. Her face was too earnest, too open and honest. As much as it wasn't what he wanted to hear, she meant it. And although he still didn't quite trust her all the way, he couldn't help a grudging kind of gratitude and respect. In this moment, she reminded him a little of Yato.

"You're going to live. And you're going to find a new master to take care of you, and you'll learn to love them too and make a new family."

Yukine's lips trembled and hot tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He bit down on the inside of his cheek until he tasted the copper tang of blood, hoping to quell the traitorous tears. It was a kind offer—especially considering that taking him as her shinki had not been Bishamon's idea in the first place—but it only reminded him of what he stood to lose. Of the person who was missing, the one who had made that promise first and kept it the best.

He hesitated, but then reached out and slipped his hand into hers as an olive branch. The best peace offering they were going to get in this room tonight.

"You're right," he said, his voice wavering. "It wouldn't be the same."

"You're going to move on and be happy with someone else, but don't you forget that I loved you first. And I loved you the most."

"But thank you."

Yukine stood stiff and still and silent out in a grassy lawn tucked in the furthest reaches of the park. The rain—not that he'd known it had been raining constantly, since he hadn't been allowed down to the lower realm and Takamagahara's weather was anything but inclement—had left it a bit marshy, which was probably why no one was hanging around. Just as well. Near Shore bystanders would only get in the way. It was better than setting the stage for a confrontation in the streets, where there would be scores of oblivious pedestrians strolling through the line of fire and lots of buildings and side streets for Yato's dad to set traps or hide ayakashi. Better a wide open playing field that wouldn't be hiding any surprises.

Not that Yukine could take credit for choosing the terrain. He hadn't particularly cared where they faced off against Yato's dad, as long as they had the chance to get Yato back. Bishamon and Kazuma had been the ones to plan strategy.

He cast a sidelong glance at Bishamon, who had positioned herself to his right, already equipped with the shinki she'd brought into the scheme. Her head swiveled back and forth as she scanned the area with Kazuma's help, on high alert for Yato's dad. She was too busy keeping a lookout and muttering to Kazuma to look his way.

When Yukine had woken up this morning, stiff-necked and exhausted, she had been gone. He would have thought that he dreamed the whole encounter, except that the overhead light had been turned off and the lamp turned on, and the battered bread roll had been pried out of his fingers and removed along with the tray of cold, untouched food.

He didn't know how he felt about it, honestly. It was an uncomfortable itch under his skin. But Yato would be back soon, in just a few more minutes, and it wouldn't matter anymore.

"Are you sure they'll come when we're here?" Kuraha rumbled from where he was lounging in lion form on Yukine's other side. If you could call it lounging when he looked ready to pounce at any second. "They might try waiting to get him on his own."

Yukine made an impatient sound in the back of his throat. "They'll come."

It had only been a few minutes, really. He could almost feel the prickling sensation of eyes watching him already. Oh, Yato's dad knew they were here. Nora had been nothing if not implacable in her surveillance. Given how infrequently Yukine had left Takamagahara over the past weeks and how badly they wanted to get their hands on him, there was no way they would pass up this chance.

"This is the first time they've had a shot at capturing Yuki," Bishamon agreed, her eyes still darting about. "They know that if he slips through their fingers now, they might not get another chance. They'll risk facing us for it. Honestly, they probably don't even think we're a real threat after the last disaster. It's not like they haven't been running circles around us from the get-go. I think the sorcerer is starting to get cocky."

Yukine nodded, because he thought that was true. If he hadn't asked Bishamon to name him, there probably wasn't too much she could do to protect him out here in the open. In theory there was, but previous experience suggested that she and her crew weren't a match for the Yato and his dad in their current condition with their current tactics. And weeks of fruitless searching and guerilla warfare had definitely worn them down. Powerful war god or not, Yukine would put his hard-earned money on the sorcerer's schemes and Yato's uninhibited savagery.

Kuraha shifted and lashed his tail, but didn't offer any protest.

The group lapsed back into silence for a few minutes before Yukine shrugged and turned. "Oh well," he said as he began walking away. "I guess they aren't coming."

"What?" Kuraha asked. "But–"

"Get back here," Bishamon started. "They'll–"

Yukine made it all of five steps before Bishamon broke off and he heard her sharp intake of breath. He turned back and tapped his foot impatiently as Yato's dad and Nora ducked out from behind a small clump of trees and shrubbery halfway across the grassy field.

"About time," he grunted as they sauntered over.

"Keep your guard up," Bishamon muttered.

Yukine didn't need to be told twice. He suspected they'd been watching this whole time, waiting for… What? Just playing games? He didn't know, but he'd had a pretty good feeling that they'd cut it out and show themselves if it looked like he might actually retreat to safety.

"You aren't leaving already, are you?" Yato's dad asked with a cheery smile. He strolled across the lawn, Nora trailing two steps behind him like a shadow, and stopped about ten feet away. "That would be a real shame."

Yukine glared. "Where's Yato?"

Yato had to be here. Unless… His stomach flipped over as it suddenly hit him that maybe Yato wasn't here. Maybe it was going to be just like before, when his dad hadn't brought the ayakashi either. And if Yato wasn't here and Yukine had to go with the sorcerer on his own without Bishamon, there was no way this would work.

Yukine would be just as helpless as before. He was going to fail Yato again.

"Yato?" Yato's dad tilted his head and tapped his finger against his lips in a show of thoughtfulness. "I don't know any Yato."

Yukine stared. "What?"

"But hey, where's Hiyori? Is she going to miss the fun?" The sorcerer pouted, eyes sparkling. Behind him, Nora watched Yukine with dark, expressionless eyes that gave nothing away. "I see you brought Bishamon and some friends instead, though. How nice of you to bring company."

Hiyori was in school despite her protests, watched carefully by Kinuha, Kofuku, and Daikoku. They weren't taking any chances. Having her here would be too much of a risk, especially if Yato's dad decided to take her hostage. Better to have her far away, under guard.

But Yukine had been so worried about making sure she would be protected that he realized he hadn't thought through every facet of this plan after all. What did all those precautions matter if he didn't even have the chance to save Yato?

"Where's Yato?"

"I already told you," the sorcerer said with a sly little smile, "I don't know anyone who goes by that name."

"What game are you playing?" Bishamon demanded.

Game. That was right.

The knot in Yukine's stomach unclenched, and the tiniest flicker of hope sputtered back to life in his chest. "The ayakashi, then," he said, because he wasn't going to play that game. "Where is it?"

The sorcerer's face cleared in mock realization. "Oh!" he said brightly. "You mean Yaboku? Come on out, kiddo."

Yukine scrunched up his nose. He hated it when Yato was called that and couldn't imagine the name on his tongue. Not when Yato hated it so much. Not when it was the name of the person he'd tried so hard to outrun.

There was a flicker of movement behind the same tree where Yato's dad and Nora had been lurking, and Yato shambled out to join them. Yukine sucked in a breath. Yato had the same unnatural stiffness to his bearing as before, his eyes were just as dull and devoid of life, but even beyond that he looked terrible. There were dark smudges like bruises beneath his eyes, he was looking gaunt bordering on skeletal, and there were a number of obvious injuries littering his skin.

"What happened?" Yukine asked.

"Some of it was from your friend Bishamon, of course." The sorcerer sighed dramatically and gave Yato a once-over. "But we seem to have run into a new set of problems, namely that ayakashi don't bother with things like food and sleep and are reluctant to learn no matter what body they're in. Technically Yaboku doesn't need those things either, but it takes a toll on him. And to be honest, gods and ayakashi aren't compatible at the best of times, and they don't seem to be getting along. I should think he's got enough left in him to help me finish things up before he tears himself apart, but there's no point wasting any more time. You've delayed us long enough."

"You said you could save him," Yukine said in a small voice.

He couldn't tear his horrified gaze away from his master. He couldn't stand seeing Yato's eyes so empty, like he was gone and only his hollow body was left. Like he was already dead and something else had wormed its way into his body and taken over.

"Oh, don't worry," the sorcerer said cheerily, patting Yato on the arm in some cruel mockery of affection. "He's plenty strong enough to do what needs doing, even with the regrettable side effects. I'm still looking for a way to perfect the possession, and then maybe we can finish fixing him up. But he'll last long enough for this."

Bishamon mumbled something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like a curse. Yukine tore his gaze away from Yato just long enough to give her a wide-eyed look of betrayal. She had run into Yato on occasion since his second possession. She must have seen how awful he looked, must have suspected something was wrong. And she hadn't told Yukine anything. Neither had any of her shinki. Neither had Nora.

When he met Nora's gaze, she held it coolly for a moment before dropping her eyes to the ground.

"Give him back right now," Yukine said, hating how his voice wavered.

Yato's dad smiled and shook his head. "No, you're coming with us, remember? Very kind of you to protect Hiyori and give Yaboku some company."

"I won't–"

"You will. Now that you've left your hidey-hole, it's too late to back out. You really thought you could pretend to cooperate to lure me out and then bring Bishamon along to kill me? Please. It wouldn't be that easy to start with, and you're overlooking something." He leaned forward a little, grin widening. "When Yaboku calls, you come. Maybe you've refused his call before in a fit of teenage rebellion so you think you can resist it again, but a god's call is absolute if they want it to be. You shinki think you have so much power, but that's only if your god gives it to you. Yaboku could always force you to come if he chose to. He's grown soft and coddles you, but this time you won't have a choice. And once he has you, his dear hafuri, taking care of Bishamon will be nothing. She's already looking the worse for wear.

"It's game over, dearest Yukine." Triumph sparkled in his eyes like stars. "You're mine."

"Never," Yukine croaked. His heart beat against his ribcage wildly until he could barely breathe, and his vision tunneled until all he could see was the sorcerer's smug face.

Yato's dad only chuckled. "We'll see. Yaboku, call your hafuri, won't you?"

Yukine's gaze snapped to Yato's face. Fight it, he pled silently. You fought him off before. Can't you refuse again? Snap out of it, Yato.

There was a beat of stillness, but Yato's cloudy eyes didn't clear. Slowly, his mouth opened and formed around the word awkwardly, like he was tasting it for the first time. His voice was raspy with disuse and held no inflection, and he drew out each sound with painful slowness as if it was difficult to force them out.

"Se–"

Now! It has to be now!

The blood was roaring so loudly in Yukine's ears that he barely heard Bishamon calling him, voice high and rushed, but he felt the summons tugging at his chest. He had a moment to take satisfaction in the shocked look plastered across the sorcerer's face, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide with disbelief.

"–kki."

And then the world exploded, and he was left fighting for his life while he was torn in half.