Note: Stay healthy, guys. Hope y'all are all taking precautions and staying safe.

Aofery: Lol yeah, there's still a liiittle bit of drama left before we wrap things up, although we're getting close to the end now. Don't worry, your questions will be answered...in time XD No problem :) Always nice to hear from you.

Chapter 13

(In which not every reunion is a happy one.)

Yukine curled up in the chair he'd pulled up to Yato's bedside, Hiyori beside him in a chair of her own. So far, the god hadn't stirred. Even when Bishamon and her team hurriedly transported him and Kuraha back to Takamagahara, eager to get everyone to safety before the sorcerer changed his mind and launched another attack after all, Yato hadn't so much as twitched. He was breathing, at least, although it was slow and shallow and almost insubstantial.

They'd wrapped his wounds and settled him back in bed, but that was the best they could do for now. He was still deathly pale and gaunt, with blight that wouldn't wash out bruising his skin. He didn't look like someone who would be waking up any time soon.

Kofuku's voice grew loud and sharp outside the door before falling back to a hushed hum. She and Daikoku had appeared a few hours ago, having finally tracked Hiyori down. They had fussed over Yato and Yukine and Hiyori, but they'd been shut in with Bishamon and Kazuma for a while now. Yukine hadn't bothered asking what they were discussing. They wouldn't tell him anyway.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Hiyori asked for what might have been the hundredth time.

She never had gone back to school, nor had she headed home even though it was nearly nine in the evening. She had only left Yukine's—and, by extension, Yato's—side once during that time, and that was to check on Kuraha. She had reported back that he was out of sorts but stable after a good cleansing and improvised ablution, which Yukine was glad to hear. But after the initial relief, Yukine sank back into his anxiety.

"Yes," he mumbled.

Hiyori did not look convinced. "He'll be okay, you'll see."

"Will he?" he murmured, equally unconvinced. "I mean, he was a mess last time. Whatever his dad and that ayakashi did, they really shook him up."

"He's resilient," Hiyori said, but the lines of her face were tinged with doubt now too and her eyes were sad as she studied Yato.

"He might not be the same."

She was quiet for a moment. "Maybe not," she said finally. "But maybe we won't be either."

Yukine flinched, even though the words weren't meant to be weapons. No, they wouldn't be the same. Not Hiyori, who had been forced to watch helplessly as Yato faded and whose involvement in their world was putting her and her family into more danger than ever before. And not Yukine, whose choices would haunt him forever. The extra name burned the back of his hand, even though he'd long since cleansed his blight.

"Maybe not," he conceded.

Hiyori sighed, long and low. "I wish I could have done something."

Yukine tore his gaze away from Yato to eye her in disbelief. "Are you serious? You jumped out of nowhere like a crazy person to get the brush away from Yato so that we had a chance to cut the ayakashi out. You kept me sane this whole time, while I was falling apart." He frowned and looked down at his hands as he thought back to his behavior before Yato's second possession, prickly and distant as he yelled and raged and hated. "And…you were with him the whole time, even when I wasn't."

"…Yeah. I guess sometimes it's just that no matter how much you do or how hard you try, it's never quite enough." She lapsed back into silence, and Yukine grunted in agreement. "But we won!" she said more brightly. "We saved Yato, and he'll be okay once he wakes up. Everything is working out. Why worry about the past when we have so much to be thankful for?"

Yukine couldn't summon up adequate enthusiasm. He knew he should let it all go and just be happy that Yato was safe, but there were too many concerns still weighing on his mind. This wasn't over, not by a long shot.

"Yeah," he mumbled anyway.

Hiyori's eyes softened back to something sad and regretful. She leaned over and took Yukine's hands in hers, making him flinch in surprise.

"I know there's still a lot of things to work out." She searched his face with wide, solemn eyes and squeezed his hands tighter. "But it will be okay. Yato will understand. And he'll still love you just the same. You'll see."

Far from being comforting, the words set Yukine's stomach churning again. He did not want to consider Yato's reaction when he woke up, even if it was all he could think about. He didn't want to see the betrayal in Yato's eyes. He didn't want Yato to hate him. And he wasn't sure he wanted Yato to just forgive him so easily either, because he didn't deserve that. He couldn't come up with any scenario that would make him happy. Even the best possibilities tasted salty and bittersweet on his tongue.

"How much do you think he'll remember?" he asked in a thin, reedy voice. "Maybe he won't really remember that much since he was so out of it. If Bishamon releases me before he wakes up and–"

"Yukine." Hiyori looked so sad that Yukine snapped his mouth shut. "He's going to know. Even if he doesn't remember, all of this isn't going to stay secret forever. And really, it probably shouldn't. You won't feel good hiding it all from him, and… He honestly deserves to know, don't you think?"

Yukine pulled his hands out of Hiyori's and hunched down in his seat, his shoulders poking up around his ears. He stared glassily at Yato's slack face, still graced with the innocence of sleep. No, it wouldn't be fair to lie to Yato anymore. And these weren't secrets Yukine could keep, even if everyone else involved somehow kept their mouths shut. He'd probably end up blighting Yato…again.

"I know," he mumbled. "I just…don't want him to know, even though I know he has to."

"It will be okay," Hiyori said again. The shadows didn't clear from her eyes. "The worst is already over. We just need a little time to recuperate, that's all. We all did what we had to, and these are the results we got. It could have been a lot worse."

Yukine nodded to himself. "It could have."

He latched on to that with all his strength. It was true, the outcome could have been much worse. However bad things seemed, however rocky the path ahead might be, they had rescued Yato and Hiyori was still here and Bishamon and all her shinki had survived. That was something to be grateful for. At least his awful choices hadn't been for nothing.

They sat in silence for a long time, watching Yato as if he might wake up at any moment and make their little family complete again. They had already said all the words that could make a difference at this moment—now they just had to wait and see.

Yukine's fingers twitched and curled in his clothing, every shallow rise and fall of Yato's chest setting him on edge. He tried to write out his apologies in his head, but even though they were burned into his heart already, they felt brittle as if they'd crumble to ash the second he opened his mouth and let the words hit the air. All the planning in the world was not going to prepare him for this.

The door creaked open, and they both twisted around. Bishamon stepped inside, followed by Kazuma, Kofuku, and Daikoku. Daikoku closed the door behind them.

"You're still here," Bishamon observed with a frown that said she wasn't entirely pleased but wasn't surprised either.

"How's Kuraha?" Yukine asked.

Her frown deepened, but relief glimmered in her eyes. "Not feeling great, but he's stable. We had a hell of a time figuring out how to leverage an ablution to cut out the blight we couldn't cleanse normally. He's lucky we took care of it quickly. I don't think he would have lasted much longer."

"That's good. Speaking of ablutions, we need to hold one. I'm afraid that the blight is making it harder for Yato to recover."

"I don't doubt it, but…" Bishamon glanced sidelong at Kazuma, who pressed his lips together but nodded. "We think it would be better to wait until Yato wakes up. Ablutions are dangerous at the best of times, and Yato is the best one to guide you through it. I think you'll need him there, because this all ties back to him."

"But–!"

"As much as I'd like to have an ablution right now to cleanse Veena, you would just blight her again," Kazuma said. "Until you work things out with Yato, the guilt is just going to keep coming back. You need forgiveness from your master before you forgive yourself, and the absolution of your peers will not be able to substitute."

Yukine opened his mouth, closed it again. He understood where they were coming from, but how could he just sit around and wait? Didn't Yato have enough hurting him without the blight on top of it? Yukine didn't want to slow his recovery any more than he already had.

"Yato-chan is strong," Kofuku said, although she still sounded much more subdued than her normal sunny self. "He'll pull through and you can have a proper reunion to work things out. Wouldn't you rather talk to him first?"

Yukine wasn't sure he wanted to do any such thing, but he was afraid he would have to. It was inevitable, but he would do his best to ignore it until the time came.

"Well," he said instead, turning back to Bishamon, "if you aren't going to help me do an ablution, you might as well release me now."

Suddenly, Bishamon was looking anywhere but at him. "I, ah, think we should talk to Yato first."

That was the exact opposite of what Yukine wanted.

"I'd rather take care of it before he wakes up," he said. "You said you would release me when it was over."

"And I will," she said a little defensively. "But we'd better make sure it's over first. We'll see how he is when he wakes up."

"But–"

"Once I release you, I can't name you again." She met his gaze and tilted her chin up defiantly. "The sorcerer is still at large and has the brush he used to possess Yato in the first place. If something happens and he gets his hands on Yato, I won't be able to just name you again so that we can rescue him like last time."

That gave Yukine a moment's pause. It did seem a little risky to cut off their backup rescue method so completely, but the thought of keeping Bishamon's mark just in case didn't sit well with him.

"Well, it's not like he'll be leaving Takamagahara any time soon," he reasoned. "He should be safe."

"He's never going to leave Takamagahara again?" Bishamon asked skeptically. "The sorcerer might have suffered a serious setback, but he's not finished. We'll try again, of course, but we need time to recover first and I don't know how long it might take to locate him. I agree that you and Yato should stay here for a while, but it can't be forever."

Yukine's nails dug half-crescent welts into his palms as he clenched his fists tight. He didn't like where this was going. He had been so preoccupied with the past and its very immediate consequences that he had neglected to consider much after the point when Yato finally woke.

What were they supposed to do? He was afraid of killing the sorcerer, but would Yato ever be safe with his father on the loose? Would Hiyori? They couldn't hide up in the heavens forever, but could they live peacefully on the Near Shore? Maybe they'd be safe enough if they stuck together and kept their eyes open, but sooner or later their guard would slip and the sorcerer would have his chance to strike.

The future seemed like a big, nebulous blob, where mere weeks ago he had taken it for granted that he'd wake up in Kofuku's attic every day with his master beside him and visit Hiyori and work in the shop and go on dumb jobs with Yato. The normal and mundane suddenly seemed far away and hard to grasp. They were trapped in limbo, too afraid to take the next step when every option seemed treacherous.

But still, he was so desperate to get rid of the scar tissue marring his hand that he didn't want to listen to what-ifs. He wanted it gone. He couldn't live constantly torn between two masters, praying Yato wouldn't give up on him.

"I can't," he said in a thin voice. "I–"

"I promised Yato." Sympathy shone in Bishamon's eyes, but her gaze was firm and unyielding. "I promised him that I'd take care of you if anything happened to him, as you pointed out when you convinced me to name you in the first place. If I release you now and something happens to him, I can't offer you another name. I want to talk to him first."

Yukine's heart sank. Bishamon had too much honor to break a promise, especially one he'd already used against her. Yukine had betrayed Yato so many times in the past couple weeks that he couldn't bring himself to take even a secondhand role in another one.

"Whatever," he said hollowly.

Hiyori snuck a surreptitious hand over to curl around his fingers. He didn't look over, but he squeezed back.

Bishamon sighed. "Hiyori, you should go. It's late."

Fabric rustled as Hiyori straightened up in her chair. "But–"

"Your parents will worry, especially since you skipped half the school day. And it's not good for you to be separated from your body for so long. Aren't you already starting to feel the effects? You can come back tomorrow. It's even Saturday, so you can come whenever you want."

Hiyori's reluctance was palpable, thickening the air, but she was too smart not to see the truth in it.

"It's okay," Yukine said quietly. "I'll call you if he wakes up."

"Alright," she said. When he glanced over, her face was set in tired, unhappy lines. "Let me know if you need anything. I'll be back in the morning."

"Yeah."

"We'll take you home," Daikoku said. "And we'll shadow you for a while, just in case."

"Thank you," Hiyori mumbled.

"Don't worry, Yato-chan will wake up soon!" There was an emphatic exclamation point to Kofuku's words, but her eyes were shadowed. "And then we can have a big party and celebrate!"

Yukine looked away. It didn't seem like anyone much felt like celebrating, even though they had 'won'.

He submitted to a bone-crushing hug from Kofuku and gruff "good night, you'll be alright, kid" from Daikoku and watched as they ushered Hiyori out the door. She looked over her shoulder as she went, worrying her lip as she took one last look at Yato and offered Yukine a wobbly smile.

"See you tomorrow," she said.

Yukine just nodded and frowned back down at Yato.

"You too," Kazuma said. "You need to eat something and get some sleep."

"No."

"You aren't doing yourself any good, or Yato and Veena. You still need to take care of yourself."

"Not now."

"Yu–"

"That's fine for tonight," Bishamon interrupted. "We'll leave you to it. Come, Kazuma."

Kazuma whispered a harsh protest, and Yukine glanced back to see Bishamon steering him out of the room with a firm hand on his arm.

"It's good that you worry about him," she whispered under her breath as she propelled him out the door, "but he's not in any state to listen to good advice right now, especially not from us. Leave him alone tonight. Maybe he'll feel better tomorrow."

The door clicked shut behind them, cutting off the rest of the hushed argument. Yukine shrugged to himself, dropped his chin onto his knees, and resumed his vigil. It was going to be a long night.

Yukine woke slowly, groggily, and scraped grit from his eyes. A blanket had been draped over his lap and tucked in about his shoulders. His first thought was that Yato had done it—the god had done such embarrassingly caring things before, usually while Yukine was safely asleep and couldn't hit him for them—but he was still lying as still as death in the bed.

Hazy snippets of memory filtered back: stirring as a blanket brushed his skin, the soft murmur of unremembered words, a bleary smear of lavender and gold before he sank back into sleep. He thought about tossing the blanket aside, but instead pulled it tighter and settled back down to keep watch again.

It was a boring, thankless task. No matter how hard he stared, Yato didn't stir. Whatever Yukine's reservations, he would give anything to see Yato's eyes open right now. He wanted them to open and sparkle with life again, to reassure him that the ayakashi was truly gone.

When Bishamon marched in a few minutes later carrying a breakfast tray, Yukine bit his lip and looked down at the blanket in his lap and accepted the food. Bishamon practically beamed, even if he only managed to choke down half of it.

Hiyori turned up not long after that, Kofuku and Daikoku trailing on her heels. Although Yukine didn't feel much like talking, he appreciated her comforting presence and let Kofuku's bubbly chatter lift his spirits just a little.

Throughout it all, Yato stayed stubbornly asleep. Yukine imagined he was looking a little less ghastly today, breathing a little deeper, looking more asleep than dead. But he didn't wake up. If Yukine wasn't sure everyone would jump on him and shower him with disapproval, he might've given in to temptation and shaken the god until his bones rattled and he had to wake up.

Instead, he sat and watched. His melancholy and nerves were starting to morph into impatience. He didn't like waiting games.

No matter how antsy he got, he didn't leave until Kuraha poked his head into the room around two o'clock.

"You're up!" Yukine said. "How are you feeling?"

Kuraha smiled wanly. There were shadows beneath his eyes and he was a little pale, but other than that he seemed well enough.

"I'm fine," he said. "Although it was a close call there." A shadow passed over his face as his gaze slid past Yukine to rest on Yato, still lying motionless beneath the covers. "At least the sorcerer couldn't dance me like a puppet. I don't envy your master."

Yukine swallowed hard. "Yeah."

"Why don't you come get some lunch with me, Yukine?"

Yukine hesitated and cast a glance back at Yato.

"You can go," Hiyori said. "I'll be here in case something happens. I'll get you if Yato wakes up. Anyway, you've been hiding in here for way too long. You should stretch your legs for a minute and get something to eat."

Yukine wasn't entirely convinced that he wanted to leave, but staying here was driving him crazy. And he wouldn't feel good about turning Kuraha down after everything. Anyway, he'd just be right down the hall and could be back at a moment's notice.

He pulled himself to his feet and nearly toppled back over as his legs exploded in pins and needles of excruciating intensity. Hiyori stood up so fast that her chair scraped loudly against the floor and grabbed his arm to steady him.

"Yato wouldn't be happy to see that you aren't taking care of yourself," she said with heavy disapproval.

It had been a while since Hiyori had chastised him so bluntly, had dared to when he was on the verge of cracking apart, but he realized it was probably something he needed to hear. He mumbled a halfhearted apology and shook some feeling back into his legs before following after Kuraha.

As he slipped out the door, he caught a glimpse of Kazuma's raised eyebrows and Bishamon's half-smile. Remembering Bishamon's word of caution to Kazuma last night, he wondered if she had suggested such a venture to Kuraha.

Kuraha was limping a little—from the injuries Yato had inflicted on him or the aftereffects of being forcibly pushed across the line to join an ayakashi, Yukine wasn't sure—but set a steady pace toward the kitchen. They drew looks from the shinki they passed in the hall, and more than a few polite queries. Everyone wanted to ask if Kuraha was feeling better and then follow up by asking Yukine how Yato was doing.

Most of them had no idea what was actually going on, but Yato's collapse outside in front of everyone hadn't exactly been easy to hide and no one had missed Bishamon rushing a blighted and unconscious Kuraha through the halls yesterday. The story was still nebulously centered around the troublesome sorcerer and his unnatural ayakashi, and Yukine had heard from Hiyori that Bishamon had told everyone they'd scored a victory against the sorcerer and slain the ayakashi that had been plaguing Yato. Close enough. Of course, as far as most everyone knew, Yato had been locked in his borrowed room for a couple weeks now after his collapse, hovering on death's doorstep and experiencing long bouts of unconsciousness.

"He's doing a little better," Yukine told anyone who asked, and he let just enough optimism shine through to believe it. After all, things could only get better from here, right?

Lunch was a simple affair since it seemed everyone else had already eaten and cleared out, and Kuraha talked about everything but Yato and the sorcerer. Yukine was impatient with the small talk. Being so preoccupied with Yato didn't leave room for much else, and he was too jittery for real conversation.

But gradually he relaxed a little bit. Somewhere along the way, Kuraha's chitchat had lulled Yukine back into some semblance of normalcy and unwound some of the knots twisting up his insides. For a few minutes, all the betrayal and uncertainty and fear seemed a little farther away. Maybe he had needed a few minutes away from it all.

He stayed away maybe a little longer than he'd intended to, but he reasoned that everyone kept telling him to take a break anyway. Apparently that was a mistake, as Kofuku came bursting into the kitchen right when they were starting to wrap things up.

"Yukki!" she said. "Yato-chan's awake!"

Yukine lurched to his feet. "What? Really? How is he?"

A shadow passed over her face in the form of a faint frown and knitted brows. "He's…awake. You should come. He asked where you were."

She spun on her heel and hurried back down the hall before he had the chance to answer. He rushed after her but she was faster, and he caught a glimpse of pink curls disappearing through the doorway to Yato's room as he turned the corner.

He hustled down the hallway and came to an abrupt stop just a few steps away. He could hear everyone talking inside, a feverish hum of voices blending seamlessly between excitement and worry. And then just a snatch of Yato's voice, too low and quiet to make out.

Yukine leaned forward in anticipation, but he couldn't lift his foot to take the next step. He might as well have walked straight into a borderline. All of his fears and doubts and guilt flared up again all at once, strangling him helpless.

"Don't you want to see your master?"

He turned and blinked at Kuraha owlishly. He'd completely forgotten about him in all the excitement.

"I do, just…"

His heart careened about his chest, bouncing from rib to rib to tap out a drumbeat of fevered pitch. He thought he might be sick, and then he thought he might just run away instead. Run and run and run until his side was in stitches and he couldn't breathe and he'd somehow outrun the past.

Kuraha frowned, his good eye clouding over. "You've waited long enough, don't you think? I'm sure he wants to see you too."

"Yeah, just…" Yukine swallowed, his desert-dry throat aching. "I just need a minute."

Kuraha studied Yukine like he was a puzzle that needed solving, but then his face cleared and he nodded. "Okay. Come in when you're ready."

He hobbled past Yukine to disappear into the room. Yukine waited a few seconds, still wavering between running to and away from Yato, then stumbled back a few steps to lean against the wall and close his eyes as he tried to collect himself. He didn't know how to walk in that room as easily as Kofuku or Kuraha. Just the thought of it made him sick to his stomach.

He slumped back and tried to think of anything he could say to Yato to make this better. He came up blank.

"Yukine?"

His eyes flew open and he saw Kazuma step out of the room.

"What?" he asked defensively. He could practically feel Kazuma judging him.

"Don't you want to see Yato?"

And there it was.

"In a minute," he grumbled, crossing his arms tightly across his chest and glaring at the floor. He realized that Kuraha had almost definitely sent Kazuma out to talk to him, which withered up his charitable feelings.

Kazuma hovered uncertainly but then said, "He wants to see you too, you know. You have to face him eventually."

Traitorous tears pricked fire-hot at the corners of Yukine's eyes. "I don't know how," he mumbled in a wobbly voice, his anger melting away under the stomach-churning storm of guilt and fear.

"I know it's not easy, but we all have to face up to the choices we make. You two will work things out."

"How?" he asked miserably. "How can I face him? I did literally everything he asked me not to. I gave him to his dad and left him a puppet for weeks. I bargained with the enemy and faced his dad when he told me to stay put. I took another god's name. I threw away the name he gave me."

"And you saved his life," Kazuma said gently. "When no one else dared to."

"But I betrayed him. Over and over again." The tears were coming hot and fast now, choking Yukine's voice into a strangled croak, and he scrubbed at his eyes furiously as if he could hide the evidence. "After everything he's done for me. I can't–I don't know how–I–I…"

He trailed into snuffly silence and tried to pull himself together. It didn't work. The looming encounter with Yato had been weeks in the making, and every passing day had only added to the strain. Yukine was stretched so thin that he felt ready to snap.

"Yeah," Kazuma said after a long pause. "I didn't know what to do either."

Yukine swiped his hand across his eyes and eyed the older shinki curiously. "What do you mean?"

Kazuma wasn't looking at him now, but away at some nondescript patch of floor. His eyes had clouded over, swimming with memories Yukine wasn't privy to, and his voice grew low and husky.

"I betrayed Veena too, remember? By begging Yato to kill my clan. And I hid it from her for years…centuries. Even though I knew I should tell her, I let her hate Yato because it was easier. And maybe it was better for her too, at first, to still have one shinki to rely on when she'd lost everything. But I should have come clean so much sooner instead of piling lies on top of secrets.

"It's not going to do you any good to hide things from Yato, even if you could expect that he wouldn't find out from someone else." Kazuma looked up and met Yukine's gaze squarely. His eyes blazed a brilliant but shadowed emerald. "The guilt will eat you alive, mark my words. And the truth always comes out sooner or later. It's worse when they find out you've been lying to them all along instead of being honest from the start.

"It looks bad now, but that doesn't mean things are unfixable. Sometimes when you betray someone, you've wrecked the relationship for good. And I'm sorry for that, because I didn't want to wreck what we had. But Yato isn't me…and he isn't you. He'll still forgive you. So come in and let him. I'm not saying it will be easy or that it won't take some time to rebuild that trust, but at least you can work on it.

"Take a minute if you need to, but you can't hide out here forever. Come in when you're ready."

He turned on his heel and marched off, shoulders squared. He didn't look back.

Yukine lurched a step after him, his feet moving of their own accord, and then ground to an uncertain halt. "I don't… You aren't…"

He hadn't forgiven Kazuma, not yet. Maybe not ever. But maybe…

Kazuma looked back with a melancholy kind of half-smile, but his eyes were clearer than they had been. "Well, we still have time to work things out too. But let's take care of this first."

But maybe someday.

Kazuma stepped back to take Yukine by the elbow and steer him gently towards the doorway. He paused, his steps faltering, and a frown pinched his brows.

"I don't know if Kofuku warned you, but he's still not really himself."

Yukine's heart jumped back into his throat and he wanted to ask what that was supposed to mean, but Kazuma was already leading him inside.

Everyone was already gathered around, even Aiha and the twins. The babble of voices ran in one ear and out the other. Yukine only had eyes for Yato, who was sitting up now and offering terse, monotone replies to the inquiries about his health.

Yukine's feet dragged to a stop as Yato's gaze slid to meet his overtop Hiyori's head. Yato's eyes weren't soulless and dead anymore, thank goodness, but they weren't vibrant and bursting with life either. They were dull like brackish puddles instead of clear and bright as wide-open sky. They gave nothing of his thoughts away, and his neutral expression didn't change at all. He said nothing and Yukine couldn't dredge up any words either, so they eyed each other in silence.

Then Hiyori twisted around in her seat to follow Yato's gaze and smiled a little shakily at Yukine. "There you are! Come on in, Yukine."

"I told you he was fine," Bishamon added.

Kazuma nudged Yukine in the back, prompting him to inch forward a couple steps. Hiyori patted the chair next to her and crooked a finger, and he crept over to perch on the very edge.

Yato's gaze followed him the whole way, unchanging.

"I'm, um, glad you're finally awake," Yukine managed, wincing at how squeaky his voice sounded. "Are you, you know, okay?"

Yato tilted his head and regarded him with that flat stare. "Okay," he repeated with an odd inflection, like he was testing the word. His voice was rough and husky like old sandpaper, creaky with disuse. "Sure. I'm okay."

Not the most convincing reassurance ever.

Yukine twisted his hands in his lap. "How…? How much do you remember?"

His heart crawled into his throat and lodged itself there. What did Yato remember that left his eyes so lifeless? Did he remember the feeling of the ayakashi setting up camp inside him? Did he remember the shock and betrayal when Bishamon summoned Yukine out from under him?

"…Bits and pieces." Yato dropped his gaze to his hands resting in his lap. His fingers bunched the blanket draped across his legs. "It's pretty hazy. Might take some time to fit all the pieces back together."

"O-oh…"

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he swept his gaze across the ring of faces gathered around the bed. "What did happen?"

Yukine hunched his shoulders around his ears and tried to scrunch himself up as small as possible. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, blocking any words he might have said.

There was an awkward pause and the air thickened with tension. No one seemed to know how to respond.

Finally, Bishamon cleared her throat. "We, ah, outmaneuvered the sorcerer and killed the ayakashi he was possessing you with. So you aren't linked anymore. You should be okay as long as he doesn't get his hands on you again."

"…I guessed that much myself." The peculiar flat sheen to Yato's eyes didn't waver as he surveyed them. He did not appear to be fooled by their dissembling, but it was impossible to tell what he was actually thinking. "It explains nothing."

Bishamon hemmed and hawed and looked to Kazuma for help. Kazuma looked just as uncertain and didn't offer any advice.

"I think that's Yukine's story to tell," Hiyori said finally. She reached over to grip Yukine's hand tight and gave him a sidelong glance. "And if you want," she added ever so quietly, "I'll be here when you do."

He wanted to throw up again. He didn't want the responsibility of telling Yato the whole sordid tale. It would be easier if someone else did it. But maybe it was also a gift, to tell it his own way instead of relying on someone else. And maybe also his responsibility.

At least Hiyori was offering to stand by him. He would need the support, because he didn't know how he could do it alone.

Yato's gaze slid almost leisurely back to Yukine, and the god watched him unblinkingly for a few moments. Yukine squirmed and looked away. His lips trembled and he could feel his eyes getting hot again.

Yato still wasn't being himself, after everything. Yukine shouldn't be surprised that things hadn't magically bounced back to normal, but he would have given anything to see Yato's normal grin right now.

Hiyori squeezed his hand tighter, and he tried to disguise his sniffle with a surreptitious cough. Yato said nothing, and the unusual silence was louder than any words he might have said. Yukine could almost feel the condemnation dripping from it.

"Come here," Yato said finally.

Yukine hesitated, paralyzed. He darted a wide-eyed, pleading look at Hiyori, and she gave him another one of those wobbly smiles and nodded. He scooted to the very edge of his seat and stopped. Was this close enough? Could he stand to get any closer?

He darted a quick glance up at Yato and dropped his gaze again. The god's face was as stony as his silence. Hiyori prodded him in the back and he leaned forward to escape.

"Come here," Yato said again.

Yukine hopped over to sit on the edge of the bed, still darting glances at Yato's face before his gaze skittered away, never able to hold his eyes. His heart bounced back and forth along his ribcage at breakneck speed.

Yato leaned in and wrapped his arms around him tightly. Yukine went stiff as a board and his breath caught in his throat.

Warm fingers touched the back of his hand and traced a pattern that made his stomach turn over—the name that shouldn't have been.

"I think we'll need to talk," said Yato.

And then all the tears Yukine had been holding back for all this time finally broke free and he collapsed against Yato's chest in the throes of a great, heaving sob. He clutched at Yato desperately, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt.

Don't leave me, he wanted to say. I'm sorry.

It didn't feel quite right, a bit like hugging a stranger or a ticking time bomb, but he held on for dear life. He was afraid that if he let Yato go, he might slip away for good.

Yato didn't say anything else. He let Yukine cling to him and left his arms around him. He didn't ask questions or yell or spout condemnation. He didn't offer any reassurance or comfort either, aside from the fact that he was there and not pulling away.

He let Yukine cry until the tears had finally run out. When Yukine took one more shuddering breath and leaned back, Yato let him go. The god's face was still smooth and blank. When Yukine glanced around for help, he realized that everyone had long since slunk out of the room and closed the door behind them for the sake of privacy. It was just him and Yato.

He scrubbed at his face, wincing at the tenderness of his eyes, and inched back to the edge of the bed to regard Yato uncertainly. Yato regarded him right back. Yukine wasn't used to being unable to read his god at all. Yato was usually so expressive about everything, but now his silence could mean anything.

"I'm sorry," Yukine blurted out, voice hoarse and raspy from crying.

Yato's expression didn't change. "For what?"

"…For everything."

Yukine couldn't stand the silence. He was used to Yato chattering away blithely every waking moment. Now he wasn't, and the silence was an endless gulf between them.

So Yukine told him everything. It was like he couldn't help himself—he needed to fill that awful silence. It all spilled out in a tangled, desperate rush of words: Yato's deterioration, conspiring with Nora, handing him over to his dad, sitting back helplessly and watching failure after failure, throwing himself at Bishamon and accepting a new name, fighting at Bishamon's side to finally kill the ayakashi and save Yato.

Not once during his rambling did Yato look like he wanted to speak, and the total lack of reaction only heightened Yukine's anxiety and made him say more and more to fill the silence until he'd told the whole story in stops and starts. And when there was still no reaction, he rambled some more until he was just repeating himself.

When the words finally dried up and he couldn't think of anything else to say, he hunched over and gnawed at the inside of his cheek and watched Yato anxiously. The seconds ticked by, each one an eternity. Yato finally tore that disconcerting gaze from Yukine and looked down at the hands folded in his lap, expression as blank as ever. He said nothing.

"I'm sorry," Yukine whispered again. His heart had sunk into the very pit of his stomach, and he could feel the last of his withered hope shriveling up and dying. But what had he really expected? He had known that in saving Yato, he might lose him. "I–I didn't want to betray you, just… I just wanted you to be okay."

Yato was quiet for a few more seconds but then said, to his hands, "I trusted you."

Yukine flinched violently and shrank back. Out of everything Yato could have said, those three damning words cut deeper than anything else.

His eyes filled with tears again. "I'm sorry. I asked Bishamon to release me, I did. She said she wanted to talk to you–"

"Not that." Yato's voice was low, but it cut through Yukine's rambling like a hot knife through butter. "You did what you thought you had to. I told you that you'd need to find another master."

"But–"

"I told you that you could. That you should. But I told you that I couldn't go back to my father. I thought you understood."

"I did–"

"You don't understand what he's done to me. Or what I've done. He turned me back into a weapon, a killing machine. I've killed hundreds more. I almost killed my friends. You.

"I was supposed to be a god of fortune." The blank expression on his face stayed, but suddenly he looked and sounded very small and lost and sad. A child lost in the woods. A god led astray by the person he had trusted the most. "You were supposed to guide me. You promised. How can I trust a guidepost that pointed me back to becoming a monster?"

Yukine put his face in his hands and found that he had some more tears after all, and this time there was no one to hold him while he cried.

Note: Poor guys. There's a lot of healing that needs to be done by everyone :(