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Chapter 15

(In which Yukine is absolved of his sins, more or less.)

They gathered in the large room where they'd practiced getting used to each other after Bishamon had named Yukine. It had been cramped and much too small for that purpose, and it was really too small for an ablution too. Outside would be the first choice, but there were far too many windows in the mansion and nosy neighbors along the perimeter of the property. An ablution would most certainly be witnessed by someone, which in turn would bring up a whole host of questions that they'd rather not answer. They had just about pulled off an impressive web of deceptions, and there was no point stumbling at the finish line.

Kuraha had insisted on joining Kazuma and Daikoku for the ablution, even though Bishamon—and everyone else, really—thought he'd be better off recovering in bed like Aiha. Yukine didn't kick up nearly as much fuss as Bishamon did, because he felt closer to Kuraha than any of the other shinki that could take his place. Kinuha and the twins were off on guard duty, keeping the other shinki away from the room. Hopefully, the ablution would take place quietly and undisturbed with no one the wiser.

Yukine swallowed hard and wished he could sink through the floor. Hard to do when he was positioned smack dab in the middle of the floor and surrounded by people watching and waiting and judging. He was the center of attention, the main attraction, and all he really wanted to do was disappear.

"Might as well get it over with," Kazuma said. "It will make things easier on everyone."

"And I'm sure you'll feel better after," Hiyori added. Her voice was bright, but her eyes were unhappy. Like she knew this was something he needed to do but also understood how hard it was and was sorry for it. "It will be good to get everything off your chest."

Yukine nodded halfheartedly. They weren't wrong, exactly. It did need to happen, sooner rather than later, and it would definitely make things better for Yato and Bishamon once the blight was cleansed. And in theory, Yukine might feel better after giving his apologies and making peace with his sins.

It was just that he wasn't sure an ablution would really be enough. It would get rid of the blight, but would it really change the things he'd done and the consequences he faced because of them? An ablution wasn't going to magically make things okay again. It wasn't going to put the light back in Yato's eyes or make him smile at Yukine again.

Yukine darted a look at Yato from beneath his lashes, through the silvery curtain already separating them. Yato had declined a chair in favor of slumping over against the wall, knees drawn up to his chest with his cheek propped on them. His eyes were closed. He could almost be asleep he seemed so exhausted and worn down, but there was a slight tension in his body that belied such an assumption.

Bishamon had opted for a chair and was looking more than a little exhausted herself. Hiyori and Kofuku hovered nearby, casting anxious glances between Yukine and Yato, while Daikoku, Kuraha, and Kazuma stood at the points of the triangle to maintain the borderlines. It seemed like everyone was preparing for a rough time.

Yukine didn't intend to make it any harder than it needed to be, regardless of how tightly his insides were tied into knots. He'd already done enough damage.

So he stared blankly at the floor and rattled off his sins in a monotone, occasionally wincing or gritting his teeth at the pain as the magic excised the ayakashi growths from his back. He did not pause or stumble or allow himself to dwell on any one of them, just plowed on relentlessly.

He confessed to consulting Nora and lying about what she'd said. He apologized for snapping at everyone and saying he hated Yato and refusing to work properly as part of Bishamon's team. He admitted to failing to protect Bishamon when he'd prioritized Yato's safety above hers. He confessed to masterminding the scheme to hand Yato back over to his dad against his wishes and to condemning dozens of people to die for it. He confessed to asking Bishamon to name him and pushing her until she did, and keeping that name even after Yato was rescued and he should belong to only him.

And when the pain still scoured his back and whistled through his veins, he confessed to one more, the sin he hadn't yet committed but felt guilty for regardless.

"And I'm sorry," he said hollowly, "but I would do it all again."

He thought he understood Kazuma a little better now. They could regret their betrayals, feel remorse for their sins and all the people they sacrificed along the way, but they wouldn't change a thing if it meant they saved their masters in the end. Their apologies always had a sharp edge, because they might be sorry but they wouldn't take it back. And maybe that was why they eyed each other so warily now, because they recognized that steely edge in each other. However much they could be friends when things went well, they knew how fast they could turn. Their brand of all-consuming loyalty could make them the most trustworthy people, but also the least. Both to their allies and their masters and themselves.

Maybe Yato had finally recognized that as well, and that was why he couldn't look at Yukine the same way. Why he couldn't quite trust him again.

And Yukine was sorry for that and would do almost anything to fix it, but he knew that he wouldn't take it back and would do it all again if he had to. If he lost Yato's trust, that was just one more sacrifice he would have to make. His loyalty was so strong that he would betray Yato as fast as he would betray anyone else if it would save him. He was smart enough to know that made him dangerous, even if they were all just now realizing exactly how much so. Maybe the others were right to be wary of him.

He gritted his teeth as the magic scraped off the last of the blight.

"Much easier than the first time around," Kazuma said, although his good cheer fell flat. "You've matured a lot."

"Are you okay?" Hiyori asked. She wrung her hands together.

Maybe they found his display so unsettling because he always got ridiculously emotional about things, one way or another. He could feel all those emotions swirling deep down inside him like a storm waiting to be set free, but he kept them caged. Kazuma had taught him how to do that: don't feel too much, don't show it when you do, don't hurt your god.

Yukine wasn't ready to face any of it just yet. He had been right: the ablution hadn't made him feel any better. He knew it was a relief to get rid of the eyeballs, he knew he was glad that Yato and Bishamon weren't suffering his blight anymore, and he knew that it should feel good to be absolved. He knew a lot of things, but he wasn't feeling very many of them.

Hiyori had stood by him the whole time and done her best to support his decisions. He appreciated that more than he could ever express, and was eternally grateful to have such a staunch ally when everything else fell apart. And Bishamon was trying to be supportive too, even though they didn't agree on a lot of things, and he appreciated that as well. And the shinki gathered here, ex-friends and old friends and new friends, had judged him by virtue of their humanity and absolved him of his sins, and he appreciated that too. Human forgiveness for human folly.

But as wonderful as all of that was, he was missing the most important ingredient. Yato was the one he had sinned against the most egregiously, the one he had sinned for, and the one he had sworn eternal loyalty to. Yato was the one who had found Yukine as a lost little soul and taken him under his wing, the one who had tolerated his sins time and time again and always forgiven them, the one who had shown him how to appreciate this new life of his and given him a place to belong in it.

If Yukine needed forgiveness from anyone, it was Yato.

But he wasn't going to beg for it. Maybe he was too proud. Mostly, he didn't think it was fair to Yato.

He squared his shoulders and finally worked up the nerve to dart a glance at his god.

Yato was picking himself up off the floor with slow, deliberate movements. He hovered there, head bowed, not looking at anyone. Then he straightened up and met Yukine's gaze with eyes that were still too dull but maybe just a tiny bit clearer. He crooked a finger in a come here gesture.

Yukine hesitated, taken aback. Hiyori smiled a little uncertainly and nodded encouragement.

Yukine took a tentative step forward, hesitated, and took another. He walked slowly across the room, feet dragging along the floor, and drew to a stop a good two feet from the god. They stared at each other while Yukine's heartbeat ticked off the seconds. He fought the urge to squirm under Yato's gaze.

Then Yato stepped forward, closing the space between them, and wrapped his arms around Yukine. Yukine went stiff as a board and his breath caught in his throat. He didn't know how to respond, so he didn't. He just stood there stiffly, hardly daring to breathe.

"We'll be okay," Yato murmured into Yukine's hair. "I forgive you too."

And just like that, Yukine was sobbing again. He clutched at Yato tightly and cried into his chest, shaking like a leaf.

He wanted that olive branch so badly. He wanted Yato to still be there despite everything. He wanted to believe that he could be forgiven just like that.

Yato didn't say anything else, but he didn't let go either. He held Yukine for a long time, wrapped around the shinki like the safe haven he'd always been. And for this moment, it was enough.

Yukine cried for all the people who had died because of his choices, for Hiyori having to live with the sorcerer's threats, for Bishamon and Kazuma and Kuraha and the rest caught in the middle and suffering for it, for Kofuku and Daikoku watching helplessly from the sidelines. For Yato and everything he had endured at the hands of his father, for everything he'd been forced to do and become, for waking up to realize that his trusted guidepost had betrayed him. And for himself, because self-pity was nothing new but Yukine knew that he had lost something too, that he had been changed by the experience and would never be the same.

When he finally cried himself dry—for now, at least—he stayed snuggled up to Yato for a few more seconds before drawing in a shuddering breath and stepping back. Yato released him without a fuss, and Yukine eyed him shyly while scrubbing at his face with his sleeves.

Yato still wasn't smiling, still looked beat down and exhausted and blank, but his eyes were a little softer than before. He jerked his chin in Bishamon's direction. "And now Bishamon."

Yukine blinked at him in confusion. He didn't know what…

Then it hit him, and he swallowed hard. Bishamon was as much his master now as Yato was, at least technically. Yukine could try to ignore it all he wanted, but it didn't change that. And by agreeing to keep the name she'd given him a little longer, he'd obligated himself to accept her.

Stepping across to where she was still sitting in the chair against the wall, he shuffled his feet and looked anywhere but at her. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"It's okay," she said. He snuck a glance up to see that she was watching him with unbearably gentle eyes. "We're fixing things."

He nodded. An ablution was all well and good, but it was just the first step. There was a lot of work left to do if he wanted to fix things with Yato. And frankly, he had been chipping away at his relationships with the rest of his friends as well. He would have to earn back that trust one step at a time.

He looked back over, but Yato had tilted his head away and was frowning at the ground. Yukine wondered if it bothered him more than he let on. Yato might have given Yukine the choice, but that didn't mean he wanted to share his hafuri with Bishamon.

Yukine swallowed down his guilt—no time for that right after an ablution—and resolved that this state of affairs wouldn't last long. And he promised himself that he'd make it up to Yato somehow, even if it took a hundred years.

The other shinki, still looking relieved that the ablution had been relatively painless, drifted over to join the group. Kuraha dropped a heavy hand on Yukine's shoulder while Kazuma and Daikoku joined their masters.

Hiyori, evidently reassured that Yukine would be okay now that he'd made up with Yato, turned her attention to Yato instead. She reached out, but her fingers had barely grazed his arm before Yato jerked away. His head whipped up, and he bared his teeth and made a strange sort of hissing sound that seemed more ayakashi than god.

Everyone went still, watching wide-eyed and with bated breath. Hiyori stood frozen with her hand outstretched and hovering uselessly in the air. Fear coiled low in Yukine's belly again.

Yato glared at Hiyori for a few more seconds before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "Sorry," he said stiffly. "You caught me by surprise."

Hiyori lowered her hand slowly, desolation spreading across her face. "Oh, Yato," she murmured in a soft, breathy voice that sounded like heartbreak. "What did he do to you?"

"Nothing." Yato looked away, every muscle taut.

Yukine could read it in the stiff set of his shoulders and hard glint in his eyes and closed-off expression. Yato would never talk about what had happened to him while he was possessed. They would always have to wonder.

Hiyori looked like she wanted to protest but didn't know how. Yato's stubbornness was legendary. And given the incredible degree to which he'd shut down—shut them out—since being rescued, it was unlikely they'd be prying anything out of him soon.

No one knew what to say to such an obvious lie, and the air was thick and clotted with tension. Just as it was becoming unbearable, the silence was shattered by a shrill chime.

Yukine jumped about a foot in the air and looked around for the source of the sound like everyone else before remembering the phone still tucked in his pocket. He'd meant to give it back to Yato, but he hadn't been able to work up the nerve.

Now he pulled it out of his pocket, but hesitated when he glimpsed the name scrawled across the screen: Father.

"Should you answer that?" Hiyori asked. Maybe looking for anything to break the stalemate. If they were at an impasse, the next best thing was to look for a distraction. "Or Yato?"

"Ah… No…" Yukine cleared his throat and avoided everyone's eyes as he made for the door. "Excuse me for a moment."

He could feel Yato's gaze burning into his back, but he didn't look up for fear that the god would be able to read the truth in his eyes. He sidled past Kofuku and slipped out the door before anyone thought to ask more questions. He shut the door behind him, relaxing ever so slightly now that he'd escaped everyone's curious gazes. Then the phone rang again, and all the tension came flooding back.

The hallway was empty—Kinuha and the twins must still be at work directing everyone away in case he made a scene—but he wasn't taking any chances. He ducked into the room next door—also empty, thankfully—and hesitated. The phone rang one last time and went quiet.

Yukine let out a breath. Probably for the best. In all honesty, he probably shouldn't risk becoming any more entangled with Yato's dad than he already was.

And then the phone lit up and started buzzing in his hand again, and he hit answer before he thought better of it.

"Stop calling!" he hissed into the speaker.

There was a beat of silence before Yato's dad said, "Ah, Yukine. I was rather hoping Yaboku was up and about again. I'd thought he was tough enough to be back on his feet by now."

"Of course he is!" Yukine said defensively, before realizing that the bastard might've just been fishing for information and it probably would have been better to give him none at all.

"Oh, good! I'm glad. Be a good boy and put Yaboku on the phone, won't you?"

"No," he said through gritted teeth. His knuckles went white and the hard plastic of the phone dug into his palm. "He doesn't want to talk to you. You've already done more than enough. Stop calling and stay away from him."

"Aw, don't be like that. I just want to say hi to my kid, make sure he's alright and all that."

Yukine barked out a harsh laugh. "Like hell you do. Leave us alone. I'm warning you–"

He yelped in surprise and nearly jumped out of his skin as a hand reached over his shoulder and plucked the phone right out of his grasp.

"Hello, Father," Yato said in a flat voice.

Yukine whipped around and winced. Yato was staring off into space, eyes dull but hard. Hiyori and Bishamon and the others peeked through the doorway behind him.

"Yato–"

"Yes," said Yato without looking over. "Fine…Yes, he was just leaving."

Yukine hesitated. That obviously meant him, but Yato didn't give him a look or shoo him out or tell him to go. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to leave or not. In the end, he didn't. He didn't want Yato's dad talking to him, and cursed himself for answering the damn phone.

"Yes, it's just me," Yato said in a voice devoid of anything resembling emotion, and Yukine exchanged a puzzled look with Hiyori. "What do you want?…Let me guess, kill Bishamon…" Yukine started in surprise, and Bishamon's eyes went wide. "Kazuma too? Is that really necessary?…I suppose so…Now's the best time since I'm stuck here with them…"

Yato went quiet for a few seconds, listening. His expression didn't change once. He took it all with a palpable air of dull exhaustion.

"If you don't possess me," he said. "…Yes. I'll do whatever you want as long as you don't…You promise?"

He fell silent again, for longer this time. His eyes traced lazy circles along the back wall.

"Well, why not?" he asked finally, voice bleak. "What else am I good for?… Honestly, what's the point of running anymore?"

Yukine's breath stuttered in his throat at the tired hopelessness weighing down the god's voice. "Ya–"

Yato's gaze snapped to his face, and his eyes were sharp with annoyance as he flapped his hand in a shushing motion. Yukine snapped his mouth shut, remembering that he wasn't supposed to be here.

"Yes, Father." Yato's lips quirked into a wry half-smile as he said, "Yes, I learned my lesson…No, give me a few days." Annoyance flared bright in his eyes again, although his voice stayed monotone. "Don't threaten her. I'm still recovering. Give me a few days to get back on my feet. It's not like Bishamon is going anywhere…A week…I really think…Fine. Five days. That should be plenty of time. I'll call you when it's done. Don't mess with Hiyori until then. If I don't call you within five days, do what you want. Okay?"

Yato's gaze wandered sightlessly along the far wall, and then he nodded to himself. "Alright. Yes, Father. I'll see you then."

He snapped the phone shut with a sharp click and stared down at it.

"What now?" Bishamon asked from the doorway.

Yukine twisted his hands together. "You aren't actually…"

"Of course not." Yato slipped the phone back into his pocket. "I can't afford to go back, but I just bought us a few days. Hiyori can't just camp out in Takamagahara like we can."

"You think he'll actually honor that?" Kazuma asked skeptically.

Yato shrugged. "He's a bit of a chronic liar so I'd still keep my eyes open, but he doesn't really want to alienate me any more right now or risk doing something that will change my mind when he thinks I'm coming around to the idea of cooperating with him."

"But does he believe that?" Hiyori asked. "You've been pretty stubborn about not cooperating lately…"

"Yeah, well. Things have changed since then. He thinks I've learned my lesson and realized that it's pointless to try resisting. And that I'll cooperate on my own if it means he won't possess me again, although I wouldn't trust him not to try either way. Anyway, he's also pretty smug about everything with Yukine and seems to think we're on the outs. Without a shinki to rely on, conveniently feeling betrayed and all that, I'm more likely to ditch everyone and go back to him. So."

Yukine's heart plummeted down into his stomach again. Of course Yato's dad would think he was more likely to come crawling back after everyone he'd trusted had betrayed him and Yukine had gone to a different god. And it was terrible because Yukine had betrayed Yato and Yato was obviously hurt by it and–

Yato cut a sharp look in his direction. "Enough with that."

Yukine caught Bishamon wincing and realized he was hurting them again. "Sorry," he mumbled, wilting.

Yato waved the apology off impatiently.

"It's okay," Bishamon said. "Just cheer up a little, yeah? We already took care of the ablution and everything. It's okay now."

Yukine nodded, because it seemed safer than saying he wasn't sure if he quite believed it.

"Is it going to be enough, though?" Daikoku asked, still focused on the more pressing issue at hand. "It's good to have a few days to breathe, but it doesn't look like we're going to solve the problem of the sorcerer any time soon. You can't hide up here forever, and Hiyori and her family are sitting ducks."

"We'll protect Hiyori-chan!" Kofuku said brightly. Daikoku shot her a look, and she deflated. "But he's right. We have other duties to take care of, and even while we're looking after her, there's bound to be an opening sooner or later. Especially if she keeps running off…"

Hiyori winced. "I said I was sorry."

Yato shrugged again. "It's better than nothing."

"Just so you know," Bishamon said, "if you do decide to try killing me, I'm going to skewer you."

Yato actually rolled his eyes. "If I decide to kill you, you won't see me coming."

"You wish," Bishamon snorted. Yukine watched them curiously, relieved that the banter had brought back just a flicker of Yato's spark. But then Bishamon sobered. "I think we need to discuss some of the things that have happened and where we're going from here."

And that was how they found themselves arrayed around the table in the boardroom again. Kuraha was allowed to sit in on the war council this time, either because Bishamon didn't have the heart to make him the only one excluded from the party or because she thought he'd earned the privilege after everything.

Personally, Yukine would have preferred if they had their meeting somewhere else. This particular room held a lot of bad memories. Yato had cut the first war council short when he collapsed in a puddle of blood and blight. The rest had been held with a conspicuous empty space where he should have been, and none of the plans they'd crafted had made Yukine feel very good at all. Especially not the last, when he'd demanded that Bishamon name him. Being here brought up memories of choking on magic and betrayal.

Yato gave him a sidelong glance, and he wondered how much of his unease was mirrored in the god's heart.

The meeting got off to a slow start, given that Yato either really didn't remember much from his time as a thrall or was too stubborn to talk about it. No one's questions got satisfactory answers, and soon Bishamon was the only one still trying.

"Are you sure you don't–?"

"I don't know what to tell you," Yato said. "It's all hazy and I'm still trying to piece it together. Nothing I remember is going to be of much use to you."

Bishamon opened her mouth and then clamped it shut again as she glowered across the table. Yato met her gaze evenly, face blank. That was one impasse that wouldn't be broken. Those two were possibly the most stubborn people Yukine knew.

Kuraha cleared his throat. "Did the sorcerer take you back to his hideout? Could you find it again?"

Yato shrugged and looked down at his hands steepled on the tabletop. "I could find it, but he'll have moved by now. He's not shortsighted enough to miss that loose end. I've been to a lot of his residences and 'hideouts' over the centuries, but he's not going to go anywhere I already know about."

"But he thinks you're going to come back, right?" Hiyori asked.

"That doesn't mean he'll take unnecessary risks. Until Bishamon and Kazuma—the most immediate threats on his life—are out of the way and my loyalty is assured or at least less in question, he'll keep a low profile. That's how he's gotten away with everything for so long. He prefers to fly under the radar, although we've kind of ruined that for him at this point. With the threat of the heavens looming and us hunting him, he's being extra cautious."

"Still…" Bishamon said.

"Look, I can tell you where they were if you want. Just don't expect to find him there."

"I guess that will have to be good enough for now."

"And you're sure you aren't still feeling any effects from the possession?" Hiyori asked. "Because–"

"I'm fine," Yato said a little more curtly than necessary. "The connection is severed. Unless he manages to catch me and try it again, I'll be fine."

"If you say so…"

"You don't have any ayakashi minions still floating around?" Bishamon asked dryly.

Yato wedged his thumbnail under a chip in the table and began working at it absentmindedly. "No."

"Oh, that's right," Kazuma said, leaning back in his chair. "There was that one ayakashi that seemed to disappear somewhere in the middle."

Yato met his gaze squarely. "If it was still alive, I'd feel it. It would still be connected to me."

His growing impatience with the questioning was turning into annoyance. Yukine wasn't sure if it was because he didn't know the answers or didn't want to give them or just didn't want to talk about an obviously traumatic experience. Whatever the case, it was clear that they had gotten about all the information out of him that he was willing or able to share.

Kazuma cleared his throat, sensing the mood. "Ah… Yes, I suppose we did a lot of damage. It makes sense that we killed it and didn't notice."

The meeting stalled—another impasse.

"Why don't we call it a day and get some food?" Yato asked after a few more stilted questions and curt replies. He smiled, but it looked too pinched and tight to fit his face. "I'm starved."

"Of course you are," Hiyori said, jumping at the chance to close things out and move on. "You've barely eaten anything lately!"

"Yeah, it's been nice not having you eat all our food," Daikoku grumbled.

They got up and filed out of the room towards the kitchen. Yukine hadn't said a word during the meeting, but he followed Yato down the hall, secretly hoping for some kind of acknowledgement.

Yato didn't look back, and Yukine's heart settled into the pit of his stomach once more.

The only reason Yukine knew Yato was having nightmares again was that he couldn't sleep. Yato wasn't screaming like last time, but he was making some kind of muffled sound—probably mumbling in his sleep again—and tossing about. It was only barely there, possibly only in Yukine's imagination, but he could just make it out in the smothering stillness hanging over his room.

He threw back the covers, slid out of bed, and shuffled across the floor. He doubted his presence would be any more welcome than it had been the night before, but it was better to put an end to things before the screaming started again.

He hesitated outside Yato's door, both because he wasn't sure it was his place and because he didn't hear the noises anymore and had to wonder if his overactive, admittedly sleep-deprived brain had been imagining them. Then he took a deep breath and twisted the doorknob as quietly as possible. He'd just take a quick peek. If Yato seemed fine, he'd just tiptoe back on out with no one the wiser.

The curtains were thrown wide, letting silver moonlight filter through the window. Yukine could clearly see Yato's silhouette lying still in the bed. Everything was quiet and still, and he felt silly for getting worked up about nothing.

Just as he was about to close the door and slink back to his own room, a quiet sniffle broke the silence.

"Yato?"

Yato opened his eyes. He didn't say anything for a few seconds, and his voice was a little too thick when he spoke.

"What are you doing up?"

Yukine shoved the door shut behind him as he rushed into the room and over to Yato's bedside. "Oh no, I'm sorry."

He could feel his own eyes filling with tears, because Yato was upset and crying alone in the dark and it was his fault. He stumbled to an awkward stop by the bed, realizing that he had no idea how to make this right.

"I know," Yato said in a husky voice.

"I didn't–I didn't want to, you know," Yukine rambled. "I didn't want to give you back to your dad or let Bishamon name me, but I–I didn't see another way and… And I wanted to save you."

"I know," Yato said again. He sat up and hunched over with his forearms resting on his knees. Yukine caught a glimpse of the tear stains shining silver in the moonlight before his hair fell across his face. "It's okay. I'm not…happy about it, but…I know you were just trying to help. And you didn't give up on me even when I gave up. It's Father I'm mad at. Just…it's a lot to take in right now. It's like everything changed while I was out of commission."

Yukine felt too terrible to fully appreciate the olive branch. "But we'll figure out what to do about your dad so that you're safe again, and Bishamon will release me and…"

He trailed off, not certain how to end that. It sounded too flippant, like he thought all the damage and betrayal could be erased if they somehow uprooted the source of the problem.

"It's still really bothering you, huh?" Yato looked up and studied his face with a look of consideration. Yukine found himself looking away. "You're not going to relax until we sort out the mess with Father and Bishamon."

"I just…want things to be okay again."

"Hm. Well, we'll take care of it soon. Father's just about finished, and then we'll set everything right."

"Yeah, you said that, but… How do you know? We have no idea where to find him or how to get rid of him without killing you. I don't–"

"Don't worry so much. You'll just have to trust me on this one."

Sudden fear sizzled through Yukine. "Don't do anything stupid."

The barest hint of a grin touched the god's face. "I'm always doing something stupid."

"Yato–"

"Really, it's fine." Yato sighed and flopped back over. "You should really get some sleep, kid. Look, here's an extra pillow. Go curl up at the end of the bed like a dog if you're not going to sleep in your own room. You can turn on the light if you want."

The pillow he tossed nearly hit Yukine in the face. Yukine hugged it to his chest and bit down on his lower lip.

"This thing is huge. You could fit like eight people in here. And an elephant. It would be a crime to sleep on the floor with all this free space."

Maybe things weren't completely ruined. Maybe not everything had changed. Maybe Yato had meant it when he said that he'd forgiven Yukine.

"I don't need the light," he croaked. "The moon's really bright."

Not even the darkness could eclipse the hope building in his chest as he crept around to the other side of the bed and rearranged the blankets into a nest in the far corner. Things weren't normal, weren't okay just yet, but it felt like Yato was finally starting to come back. That thought finally soothed Yukine to sleep. Maybe things really would get better.

Or so he thought, until he woke up in the morning and Yato was gone.