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Yukine awoke on the wooden floorboards and inwardly groaned. Young as he was, he knew his back would be aching all day from sleeping on the hardwood surface. He must have rolled out of his futon, which was surprising since he typically didn't move in his sleep -Yato did enough of that for the both of them.
Frigid fingers peeled apart his eyelid and Yukine instinctively smacked the cold hand to the side, his eyes flying open.
"W-Who?" He took in the young woman leaning over him, her plastic gloved hand holding onto his wrist while her other gloved hand hovered over his face. Her emerald eyes coolly regarded him and a disquieting feeling churned Yukine's insides.
He was not in his attic, but in a concrete room that reminded him of a basement. His anxiety continued to pile up when he realized he was lying on a metal examination table, and he didn't have to look down to know that his dignity was only protected by a thin white sheet resting just above his waist while his chest was exposed.
"Get away!" Yukine yanked his hand free from the woman and flung himself up, but yelped when electricity sparked around his neck in a brief zap. It didn't hurt so much as it surprised him, and his surprise reached a peak when he patted the area around his throat and felt a warm, thin metal encircling it.
"You aren't authorized to move yet," Yukine flinched as he suddenly noticed there was a man leaning against the gray wall in front of him. He was standing by the only exit in the room, which led to a dimly lit hallway from what Yukine could see.
"Who are...?" He slowly picked up on the aurora that surrounded this guy and his eyes widened when he recognized it. It was the same aurora Tenjin held when he and Hiyori first met him, and while it was rare, he even felt this aurora come off Yato before. Though that only occurred at the start of a difficult battle -fighting Bishamon and trying to save Ebisu came to mind as instances where this particular feeling in the air was brought out of Yato.
This man's hair might have been a standard brown, his suit as black and white as any other businessman's, but his violet eyes held an unnatural sheen, and Yukine openly gaped when he recognized this man for the god he truly was.
The god's lips slanted up in a smirk that revealed the edge of teeth as he relished Yukine's awe. "I am called Masuta, which is fitting since I am the head of this operation and I do own over a dozen shinki."
"What operation?" Yukine's fingers pried at the metal encircling his neck. "And what is this?" His demand came out authoritative and unwavering despite how his heart fluttered erratically in his chest.
"That," The man flippantly gestured at Yukine's neck. "Is your teacher in discipline. We give them to all the newcomers." His smile held a razer-sharp edge and Yukine was already starting to hate that expression on his face.
"Newcomers to what?" Yukine felt frustration overshadow his fear at the moment, not in the mood to decipher cryptic rambling.
Masuta hummed, unperturbed by Yukine's attitude -perhaps even enjoying the challenge. "My operation is in the business of selling a rare merchandise." His tone was lax and yet there was an underlying heaviness to it that made Yukine lean back an inch. "We secure this product and then auction it off to the highest bidder."
It took him a second to place context to Masuta's words, but when he did Yukine's hands slipped off his collar and he paled. "You sell shinki?!"
"Yes," Masuta shrugged, completely nonchalant in his reply. "Blessed regalias to be exact, I do have a reputation to uphold after all." He clearly took satisfaction in this reveal and Yukine wondered exactly how many times he had given this explanation personally for the sake of his own amusement.
"Hey, shinki," Yukine refocused on the present, but saw Masuta's gaze had drifted to the right. He turned his head as well to regard the silent woman, and only now noticed he could see the edge of a red tattoo under the sleeve of her plain, white dress. "This one got a clean bill of health or what?"
She nodded and when her head bobbed, Yukine caught sight of a flash of metal glinting around her neck. He felt sick as it suddenly occurred to him that he was not the only shinki trapped here. In fact, as the memory of when he was taken returned to him, and he recognized that only a trio of shinki could have trapped Yato, he realized they all were probably in the same boat as him.
Blessed regalias were being forced to help these creeps catch other shinki. It was a sickening thought and left Yukine speechless as he contemplated how his attackers last night might have been victims like himself.
"Perfect!" Masuta smiled a shark-like grin as he turned back to Yukine. "The master that buys you would complain if you were damaged. They always ask for a discount when that happens." He muttered the last part, sighing and crossing his arms in genuine annoyance. Yet Yukine did not care for his musings, his mind stuck on one word.
"Master?" His voice rose a decibel and his frame trembled. "But I already have a master!"
He felt his collar buzz in warning but there was no electricity as Masuta simply chuckled. "You mean you had a master."
Yukine felt his breathing hitch and his horror soared to new heights. Then his fists clenched and his eyes narrowed, amber burning a fiery orange. "What did you do to Yato?!"
"Was that his name?" Masuta shrugged lazily.
Yukine felt a volatile mixture of worry and anger race through his veins and his body trembled as he fought to hold down these emotions. "Don't play games!" This time he really was shocked by the collar and he bit his lips to hold in the cry, but the god and shinki didn't seem to notice his pain or simply didn't care.
"He should be dead by now." Masuta pondered this like one pondered if it would be a stormy or sunny afternoon. "In fact, I should be getting a call any minute now about the job being done."
Yukine felt something fragile shatter inside his heart and the remaining shards scraped painfully together. "No..."
It couldn't be. Yukine's hand touched the red letters on his collarbone and he gazed down at them as if they would fade away any second. "He can't be dead." His entire being shook, his eyes had tears burning at their edges, and his breathing became ragged.
The idea that Yato was gone, no chance of reincarnation, simply gone without a single ripple... As if he'd never held that sweaty jacket out to him and promised he was safe the night he named him, as if he would never hear that idiot boast about his kid being the best regalia out there, as if he'd never have him hold him tight and tell him everything would be alright when he was crying and needed someone to listen.
"Yeah, well, it's not like we didn't give him a choice." Masuta was apathetic to the despair entrenched in Yukine's face. "We always ask them if they would just release their shinki, even offer them money to do it, but sadly most gods are stubborn." He shook his head in mock pity, brown tufts of hair swaying into his eyes. "And according to my men, your former master wasn't all that polite when we proposed this to him."
Yukine could not stop a lone tear from trickling down his cheek because of course Yato would refuse. He had sworn to never sell him even when given Ebisu's admittedly tempting offer. Sure, Yato was an obnoxious and childish nuisance most days, but when he made a promise, he always kept it. Thus Yukine could easily imagine his god confined in that triangle prism of light, glaring at the man holding his unconscious body, and not even glancing at the offered suitcase of money before demanding they give him back his kid.
However, Yukine could also imagine what happened next. A sword drawn on his master, Yato without his hafuri to protect him and unable to escape his confinement as the blade swung down.
"I only sell quality products here," Masuta was talking more to himself than Yukine at this point. "And who wants a nora that might be used against them someday? That just doesn't bode well for most of my customers."
Yukine somehow mustered up a glare, though it was probably ruined by the tears prickling his eyes. "You're lying! The heavens wouldn't let you get away with murdering gods and kidnapping their shinki."
It had to be a lie, Yato had to be okay.
He had to.
Yet despite his inner reassurances, Yukine's hands would not stop shaking so he grasped the sheet resting on him and bundled the cloth in his fists to hide his fear.
"Yes, yes, the heavens definitely don't approve of us." Masuta sounded oddly proud, which took Yukine aback. "They have ended my business and others like me many times throughout the centuries, but we always come back." He straightened and held an air of superiority around himself.
"We're being smarter this time. We don't mess with the powerful gods, just the minor ones. It's so much easier to clean up when there's no reincarnations to deal with, and sometimes if we're lucky, the ayakashi do our job for us and take out those stubborn gods when they have no regalia to protect them."
Yukine hated how much sense it made, and how it caused the feeling of entrapment to bubble around his fledgling hope and encase it in stone. Yato wasn't the only minor god around, and it wasn't too far-fetched to think he was not the only minor god with a blessed regalia. No one would notice a few nearly-forgotten gods or their shinki disappearing. If a famous god did notice, they might simply assume the other god didn't have enough followers to survive.
Just how organized was this operation? Were they full of members with a wide network? A few random groups that didn't talk to each other? How long had they been around? If they were so experienced, what chance did Yukine stand in escaping them?
His amber eyes darted to the side and he regarded the blank-faced, silent woman with the sinking feeling that could be him soon.
A phone ring broke off Yukine's spiraling thoughts and he looked up to see Masuta was grinning. Only as he raised the phone to his ear did Yukine recall what this particular phone call meant.
Yato, no...
Masuta was practically purring in satisfaction as he watched Yukine's horror like it was his favorite TV drama. "Is the job done?"
However, all feelings of despair were tossed aside when the caller shouted loud enough to make Masuta jerk the phone away and hold it out like one would a ticking bomb.
"Where is he?!"
Yukine was as stunned as Masuta when Yato growled on the line. Yet while Masuta frowned, Yukine's eyes shimmered as his tears became those of relief because Yato was okay!
"Tell me where my kid is now," Each word was grounded out through clenched teeth. "And I might let the goons you sent after me live." Yato's voice was a hiss that held not an ounce of patience.
Masuta regained some of his composure. "How did you esca-"
"Yato!" Yukine could not hold in the exultation of pure joy. "You're safe!" His smile was watery but vibrant and he didn't care how much Yato would tease him for this later because Yato was alright and he had not failed in protecting his master.
"Yukine?!" Yato's calm evaporated and the heat behind his words softened into a warm timbre. "Are you okay? Where-"
Yukine screamed as electricity burned his throat and he fell back onto the metal surface with a clang. He thought he heard yelling from a distance as his own screaming increased when the voltage was upped. His limbs spasmed without his contest and he felt his neck blistering while he screamed his lungs dry.
It truly felt as if he had been screaming for years when the electrocution died down and Yukine was left shaking uncontrollably as his heart thumped erratically and he could only breath in quick, sharp gasps.
"-did you do?!" Yato's voice barely reached him through his own panting breath and ringing eardrums. "I'll kill you-"
"No, I am going to kill you." The amusement in Masuta's tone had vanished, his expression grim and eyes flat. "Do what you want with my men, they won't talk, but if you try to call this number again, that pain you undoubtedly felt from your shinki," Now those flat eyes were trained on Yukine, pinning him where he laid even as he finally recaptured his breath. "Will not compare to the pain you'll feel as you fade away to nothing, little god."
Yato did not hesitate to counter. "I am going to find you," There was an undercurrent of fury beneath every syllable and a steely calm in his voice that Yukine could tell was just temporarily holding back a barrage of threats. "And when I do-"
Masuta hung up with a click of a button and then eyed the phone without a hint of emotion. After a second, he stuffed it back into his pants' pocket while his gaze shifted to stare at Yukine.
"Now I see where your temper comes from," He was smiling but Yukine thought it fell flat when the air around him was brimming with the god's ire. "But you're not the first shinki in need of an attitude adjustment." He looked away from him and regarded the woman Yukine assumed was Masuta's blessed regalia.
"Get him dressed already. I'm on a tight schedule now that I have a certain stray god to deal with."
Yukine flinched when the woman placed a thin, white clothing over his shoulders. A part of him wondered if he should use this time to fight back, but Masuta was watching him with those faintly glowing and calculating eyes. Furthermore, while he didn't understand how, Yukine knew Masuta controlled his collar and could easily shock him if he tried something. Plus he had garnered no sympathy from the shinki woman in the time he had been here, hence, it was a safe bet she would come to her master's aid rather than his if it came down to it.
Trapped, Yukine looked away from Masuta as shame and anger warred inside his heart. He was silently fuming, but outwardly complacent as his arms were placed into white sleeves. Though he did tear the clothing away from the woman when she got too close for comfort to his lower half. As he was instinctively tying the outfit around his torso, Yukine realized he had worn this before. The snow white kimono was near identical to the one he had on when he was first named by Yato. Was this a coincidence, and if so, what did this mean?
"Let's get a move on." Masuta was smirking as he walked up to the table and offered a hand to Yukine, but he quickly leaned away from the god.
"I'm not going anywhere with you." Yukine crossed his arms and sat up straighter. He was prepared for a burst of electricity and braced himself accordingly, but was dumbfounded when Masuta merely shrugged before turning around to walk out the door.
Yukine raised an eyebrow, which rose another inch when the woman followed her master out the door. He was thrown off by the leniency the man had granted him and had the wild idea he was being let go.
Until he felt a harsh tug at his neck, choking him before flinging him forward and off the table. His knees hit the ground and he felt them already bruising as he grasped the collar around his neck in the vain hope it would loosen.
Masuta was standing in the hallway, his teeth appearing corn yellow under the dim glow of an overhead light bulb while he smirked at him.
"That's good, on your knees and getting ready to bow already." His right hand was clenched and raised as if he were holding something up.
Yukine waved his hands in the open air surrounding him because surely there was some sort of string or rope connected to the collar. Yet Yukine's hands made contact with nothing save wind resistance as he was dragged forward, knees scraping painfully against the floor, until he was inches away from Masuta.
"H-How are you doing this?" He managed to gasp out.
Masuta purple irises narrowed at him. "Not important, but as a shinki, you should know just because something can't be seen doesn't mean it's not there." He threw his fisted hand up high. Yukine was yanked to his feet and barely had time to trip into a stand.
Masuta marched him forward, so he tried dragging his bare feet on the smooth concrete floor, but it had little effect as he was forced to enter a broader hallway. There were roughly a dozen, silver doors reaching up to the hall's ceiling and marked with a thin opening near their tops. It reminded Yukine of solitary confinement in a prison, or a dog kennel considering his collar.
He tried to peer into each door they passed, wondering if his eyes would meet another pair, but all he could perceive was that each cell was drenched in darkness, which is why he had to hastily look away and reassure himself there were functioning light bulbs above him. Thus he turned to his sense of hearing, as much as he could while being dragged at such a fast pace, and he thought he might have heard the pattering of feet while passing the middle section.
Yet he was given no time to decipher which cell the sounds came from before he nearly fell over as Masuta released him. He swung his arms to regain his balance and saw the female shinki was holding a door open.
Inside was nothing but darkness and Yukine took a step back. "W-Wait," He was shoved from behind and when he twisted around to toss a borderline, he was assaulted with electricity until the door was thrown close.
"Be good, little regalia!" Masuta's voice was hardly audible through the thick door.
Then there was silence.
And Yukine was alone.
In the dark.
Despite how his throat burned, Yukine raised his voice as high as he could. "Stop! Come back! Let me out, please!" He frantically scrambled to a stand and slammed his palms onto the door. It was far too dark and he was trapped and he could hardly move, hardly breath, and someone please let him out, out, out!
"Let me out!" Yukine slid his hands all over the door in the slim chance he could find an opening to pry at, but it must have been too well-insulated because he couldn't find one. Now Yukine was coughing and choking and pleading as he banged his entire body against the door in a feeble attempt to escape.
He wondered if a shinki could die from fear because it certainly felt like he was drowning, for the darkness was a pool and he was drenched in it and tied down so he couldn't tell where up ended and down began. He couldn't even recall when he had collapsed, but he was on ground and sinking, sinking, sinking.
The hazy orange light peeked through the sliver of an opening in his door and landed on his raised chin and teary-eyed face. He stared straight into that light, allowing it to anchor him until he could breath more than sharp sobbing gasps. He wasn't sure how long he stared at it with unblinking eyes, but when he finally pried his gaze away the shadows around him were tinted yellow.
Calmer now, though still sick and dizzy with anxiety, Yukine started to take stock of his surroundings. His eyes had adjusted to the dark fairly quickly thanks to the light seeping in so he could tell his cell wasn't too big. The room was made of concrete like everything else, and after he walked around with a hand trailing on each of the walls, he guessed the room was two-thirds the size of his attic room.
Also the room was short, for when Yukine hopped as high as he could, he felt the fringes of his hair brush against the ceiling. The room was a tad too cool for comfort as well, probably since metal and concrete weren't the best conductors of heat and his clothing was paper thin. The oddest part of this room, however, was how clean it was. There weren't even dust bunnies from what his bare feet could feel and no grim had been collected on his hands despite how they had touched every wall. He wondered if it was clean like this to keep himself clean or because they didn't want him to see old blood stains or something equally gruesome.
Deciding that train of thought would not help him remain calm, Yukine moved on by bracing himself and making a halberd sign. The shock was brief because he instantly lowered his hand but still irritated his already abused neck.
As he figured, his captors had a way of watching him in case he tried to escape. He squinted as he searched for a camera in the upper corners of his cell, but after trailing his hands and poking his toes against the entire surface of the room, his search ended in failure.
For a moment, Yukine wondered what else he could do, and then he recalled the shuffling noise from earlier.
"Hello?"
He allowed a beat of silence to pass, then tried to call out louder.
His only reply was the warning buzz around his neck, so Yukine sighed before slumping down into a crouch. He was exhausted -perhaps due to the remnant "sleep" effects- and the time he had been awake had been filled with emotional tidal waves that only added to his exhaustion.
Yukine didn't want to be here. He wanted to be home. He wanted to be with Yato. His arms wrapped around his legs and he slowly rocked himself.
Was Yato okay? He hoped so, told himself Yato had faced powerful gods like Bishamon and lived to tell the tale, but then recalled how he had always been at his side when he did. Without his hafuri, Yato was defenseless. He might be safe if he stayed at Kofuku's place, but he knew that reckless god wasn't there. That idiot was probably out there looking for him, and the thought that Yato cared so much to risk his life in search for one lowly shinki broke the dam holding in Yukine's tumultuous emotions.
Tears swelled up behind his eyes because Yukine was useless and had failed as Yato's hafuri. For he had gotten himself kidnapped and now he was probably being a nuisance to Yato as the god no doubt felt Yukine's emotional state deteriorating.
Tears dribbled down the bridge of his nose because Yukine had no will to stop them, but after a minute of freely sobbing, he was stung by the collar and gasped. Apparently tears had became a luxury within the last hour.
He reigned in his tears till his sobbing was tamed into sniffles and ignored the memory of Yato encouraging him to let it out because he was no longer free to do so.
Yukine curled up into a small ball in the corner, and zeroed in on the dim light trickling into his cage. His last thought was that Yato might be spared his inner turmoil if he was asleep.
He was given no food or water for at least two days -he could only guess time without being able to see the outside world though. The first day it was more of an annoyance to ignore his grumbling stomach than a pain, but by the second, Yukine felt compelled to at least ask for some. He didn't beg -he wasn't that hungry- but there was definitely desperation weaved into his wispy voice.
However, after hours passed, he figured the surveillance they had on him was only visual and not sound or they were ignoring him -probably the latter. Therefore he stopped shouting because it seemed pointless and his vocal chords were inflamed and starting to ache more than his empty stomach. It didn't help that his mouth was dry as a desert and every word that escaped him scraped uncomfortably against his sandpaper throat until it came out as nothing more than a raspy whisper.
Eventually he stopped pacing because it was merely depleting what little energy he had left so he sunk down against a wall with a low wail instead.
He contemplated if Hiyori had been told what happened to him, considering she was supposed to visit them the next afternoon after the night he'd been taken. They had decided to get ice cream at a local shop, using Yukine's and Hiyori's money while Yato mooched off them of course. Yukine smiled and huffed out what was nearly a laugh at the image of Yato stealing the strawberry off Hiyori's ice cream before Hiyori noticed and gave him a good smacking.
The spark of humor was promptly extinguished as his mind got back on track. Maybe Yato -assuming he was okay- lied about Yukine's disappearance to keep her from worrying. He could have told her Yukine was training with Kazuma and lost track of time, but Hiyori was getting good at reading Yato's tells and she might have figured out something was wrong anyway.
Also, Yato could never entirely hide the pain Yukine's negative emotions were gave him, and Yukine sincerely felt guilty that he was causing Yato any measure of pain. Yet being unable to cry or rant to another person had forced him to hold in a lot of toxic emotions. Thankfully, he didn't think the clotted ball of fear, anger, despair, and shame were strong enough for him to blight Yato.
Also, Yukine was certain sleeping did help -as long as there were no nightmares- so Yukine had been doing that as often as he could. In fact, the boredom he currently felt was causing him to drift off. He didn't fight his falling eyes as he ignored his rumbling stomach.
He dreamt of being in the attic, scribbling in a homework book while Hiyori explained the problem. Yet none of the equations made sense -the square root of ten did not equal strawberry ice cream- and Yato wasn't helping Yukine understand when he kept badgering them about the sand getting everywhere. He wanted Yukine to sweep the sand away before Daikoku made him do it, but it was sweltering hot in the desert they were in and Yato's hands were dripping all over his homework page.
Yukine ordered him to get that condition checked before his sweat formed a mini-oasis here, and Yukine did not question where Hiyori had gone because it was far too hot and where was the water? He needed it bad and he wondered if he could hide from the sun under his study table for a brief repose, but now the table was melting like Yato was melting until Yukine was melting too-
Yukine jerked awake, hands flying to his neck and fingernails clinking against the collar. His throat was parched, and though it was cool in the room, he felt feverish. He wondered if some part of him was still trapped in that dream about a desert -he was already forgetting the details- but the pain in his abdomen informed him he was very much awake. His stomach snarled and nipped at his insides, cramping up no matter how Yukine rubbed it and mentally begged it to understand he could not feed it.
He was aware he didn't have to eat to survive, but his stomach only seemed to know he was a teenage boy and growing boys needed to eat more than once every few days.
Yukine tried curling up in a corner, hands wrapped around his cramped abdomen, but the pain would not let him sleep, and in the quiet, his attempts to speak to it -because he really was that desperate- failed. His vocal chords were shot and his voice never made it past his chapped lips so his mouth moved but he endured the pain silently.
He wanted to talk to himself, regardless of if it made him look and feel crazy because it had been so quiet lately he was wondering if all those electric shocks had messed with his hearing. He wanted to listen to another voice besides his own, he wanted his stomach to shut up, and he yearned to have a good cry, but those were luxuries he no longer had. So with colossal effort, he resigned himself to misery, hugged his middle and squirmed on the floor until he was as comfortable as one could get on cold concrete.
After a few agonizing hours, he fell into a light slumber.
What woke him up minutes, hours, days maybe, later was the bright lighting. His first reaction to the pain in his eyes was that of confusion because he had forgotten what a fully lit room looked like, but then his sight adjusted to the change.
There was a shadowed figure standing in the open doorway, and Yukine had just pushed himself up on shaky arms when a tall glass cup was placed in front of him. He blinked at the clear liquid swishing inside it without comprehension.
Then he recognized the gift for what it was and swiped up the glass clumsily. He missed his mouth by a little and cursed himself when some of the water dribbled off the side of his lips as he gulped down the wonderful liquid.
A heavy hand fell onto his head and roughly petted the blond strands, and he ignored the part of him that was grateful for the touch because if he imagined he was at home, he could pretend it was Yato's or Daikoku's kind touch.
"You've been a good shinki." The petting continued but Yukine had not finished his drink and was too focused on giving his throat relief to care. "Keep this up and you might get a treat." He did not recognize the voice, and maybe that was because it was in that silly tone people used to talk to their babies or pets, but Yukine did not care -cared for nothing outside his own needs right now- until no more liquid would trickle out the glass.
He dropped the cup without a care in the world as he slumped against the wall and the hand left his head. He was gasping because he had not considered stopping for air as he inhaled that precious liquid rather than feed oxygen to his lungs. Thus he didn't think to try anything as the man grabbed the cup and closed the door behind him because he was solely focused on the way his throat was no longer scorched.
When he regained his senses, however, he felt shame worm a tunnel in chest until he was queasy. He tried to tell himself it didn't matter, they would have shocked him before he could have tried something regardless.
He reassured himself with that possibility for what he assumed was the next hour, but when he fell into a light doze, he dreamed he had fought back and slipped right through the door and Yato was standing there. His master beamed at him with such pride in his kid, who had saved himself and was such a strong blessed regalia, the best hafuri Yato could ask for really!
When he woke up from that dream and saw he was still in his cell, all he could imagine was Yato's silent disappointment as he gazed down at his weak, useless shinki. Yukine cried silent tears and hid his face in his sleeves just in case his captors were watching.
A small tan cookie was lying by his feet when he woke up the next day -hour?- and he eyed it, but his hunger had long since eased, body accepting it would not be fed no matter how it growled or pinched his intestines. Yukine continued to observe the sugar cookie that had not even been placed on a napkin but rested on the cold floor where he used to pace back when he had the will to.
"You might get a treat."
The man's words came back to him and Yukine knew what this was.
A dog treat for good behavior.
Yukine crushed it until it was crumbs of sugar, and the tips of his fingers were covered in the crystallized dust, but he just wiped them off on his clothes before rolling over so his back was given to the cookie's remains.
He was staring at the wall, a common practice for him these days, his mind blank and eyes half-lidded when the door was opened a crack.
He didn't turn to regard it, felt no need to waste his nonexistent energy reserves or sting his eyes with the light flooding in.
"Get up." There was a thread of impatience in the man's tone, which Yukine ignored until he felt the warning buzz around his neck.
Yukine slowly turned his head to see a buff man standing there. He observed the teal eyes on that face, and idly wondered if this man was a god. He could sense no strong presence coming off him, but that could have just meant he was not as powerful or well-known as Masuta.
A short burst of electricity from around his neck convinced him to shakily lift his body so he was soon standing on wobbling legs because he had not stood in who knew how long -weeks or months?- and his feet dragged on the floor as he shuffled closer to the doorway.
He must not have been going fast enough though, because the man took a step inside his cell and grasped his upper arm tightly. He was then lugged forward into the dimly lit hallway and stumbled quite a bit when they first began walking, but found his footing soon enough. His mind was playing catch-up for a second, but when he finally understood he was in that same hallway from before, he wondered if he were truly awake because this was the most light and space he had been in for a long time.
"...What...are we...doing?" His voice cracked and quivered due to the abuse it had not fully healed from and prolonged disuse. His orange eyes noticed this was an unfamiliar hall as they turned a corner and left the prison cells.
"It's your lucky day, kid." The muscled man -god perhaps- led him in front of a wooden door and opened it. The lights flickered on in the room while Yukine attempted to decipher the man's vague statement.
"Get yourself cleaned up."
He was released, yet did not move as he peered into the tiled room. His eyes squinted against the bright light that glinted off the large, pearly white tub, which was spacious enough to be a hot spring and filled with steaming water. The assortment of shampoo and spectrum of wash cloths and towels laying on the tub's outer rim also took him by surprise because he had not seen anything that wasn't a shade of white, black, orange, or gray for what felt like years.
The only thing off with this inviting picture was the way the man had not left the room. Instead, the god was observing him. Yukine could discern no curtained or closed off area to give him privacy, which made trepidation bud within him.
"We can't take chances," The gruff god, whose beefy arms made him think they had met the night he was taken, took note of his dilemma. "Some regalias have tried things while in here alone."
Yukine felt more emotion than he had in a long time as he grasped what he meant, and had trying to drown themselves really been so appealing rather than the fate that awaited him?
Another more desperate and unstable part of him asked if any attempts had been successful and could he be too?
He shook his head roughly. Knowing that thought was beyond wrong, he heaved it back into the dark corner of his mind where it rightfully belonged. Yato needed him -assuming he was still safe- as his sole regalia, so he couldn't afford to have such thoughts.
Therefore after checking back and seeing how dispassionate the man looked when Yukine started to pull open his kimono, Yukine assumed he was relatively safe from having his privacy invaded.
That didn't stop him from rushing to throw himself under the water to hide his nude body, but his anxiety over being watched melted in the perfectly hot water he was submerged in.
Yukine had not once thought about bathing in all his time here and thus the memory of how soothing it was to float in this blanket of warmth -the utter weightlessness as all the tension drained from his muscles- left him in a state of euphoria for a couple of minutes.
However, the brief shock around his neck reminded him of where he was so he got to work right after. He scrubbed his body with his choice of scented soap -when was the last time he had the freedom to choose anything?- and combed his fingers through his greasy hair until it felt cotton soft.
Once he was done, he hesitated to leave the water because this was the greatest comfort he'd had since forever and because he did not wish to expose himself. He glanced at the man and was stunned when he turned away and gave Yukine enough time to wrap a towel around himself before returning his indifferent expression to the shinki.
He wondered if he could use this god's politeness to his advantage, but the man did not look away again, so Yukine did not try to aim a borderline at his legs when he was handed a fresh kimono.
After getting changed in a heartbeat -it was chilly in the bathroom too- the man waved him out the door. "Let's go."
The god turned, knowing Yukine would follow, and Yukine obediently did so because he was certain someone had their eye on him at all times in this place. Plus merely escaping the muscled man did not guarantee Yukine's freedom since he had no idea where he was. This place could be in the middle of nowhere for all he knew and there could be a pack of guards waiting for him right around the corner. Also, Yukine's entire body ached because today was the largest workout he had given it for at least a week now.
"Sit." The order came out authoritative but not malicious.
They had stopped at the end of hall, in front of a new area that vaguely reminded him of a movie star's dressing room. Though it was not well-furnished and there was only a tan stool in front of a short white counter inside it. A tall mirror rested on the counter with lights framing the glass, but there was no make-up or even a comb lying on the counter.
Yukine's mouth fell open slightly when he saw himself. His eyes were so dull that they resembled that of a corpse and Yukine wanted to laugh at the irony of the dead boy with corpse eyes, but the collar hummed as if reading his mind so he stamped down the urge.
The potential god left without another word as Yukine gingerly patted what he could now see was a very bruised throat, angry red and dark purple splotches peeking out from under the collar.
The gentle pattering of sandals alerted Yukine that someone was coming to join him before a slender woman entered the mirror's reflection. She was wearing the same white kimono as him, and he knew she was a shinki prior to spotting the edge of a tattoo on her left shoulder.
Her expression was blank, though her brown eyes held an edge of melancholy as she pulled a brush out the drawer and hurriedly used it to brush his damp hair. Her strokes were so rhythmic that Yukine found them to be almost motherly in their tenderness, though that may have been some desperate side of him reaching for any sort of kindness at this point.
Yukine wanted to ask for her name, make conversation he so dearly missed, but had a feeling such an action would lead to them both being punished. He could see an unhealthy pinkish tone beneath her collar, the sole scarred area on her lightly tan skin, and knew that she had already endured some disciplinary measure. Thus he decided he would do his best to not add onto her pain.
Yukine remained still as she added some sickly-sweet smelling products to his hair and only wrinkled his face a bit when light powder was peppered onto his cheeks.
When the process was over, he tried to muster up a reassuring smile, but it either came out as a frown or the girl was beyond hoping because her lips only pursed together in a contrite expression before she backed away from him and slipped into the hall.
Yukine listened to her footsteps fade in the distance and began thinking of making a run for it so he could at least say he tried, but he heard heavier footsteps coming his way. To his mild surprise, the familiar face of Masuta entered the room.
"Hey, there, little regalia." His smirk was as sharp as Yukine remembered, but it had been a while so maybe he was mistaken.
"Looking good, nice and shiny like a blessed regalia should." There was a teasing nature to his words as he walked up to Yukine and placed a hand on each of his shoulders. Yukine flinched, and would have instinctively shoved him away if his collar hadn't sparked and reminded him of his situation.
Masuta seemed pleased by Yukine's noticeable self-control and patted his shoulders in mocking congratulation. Then he leaned in so close that Yukine was immediately put on his guard. "You know what today is, right?"
Yukine had no clue what day or even month it was anymore, but he had a feeling that wasn't exactly what Masuta meant. So he watched in mute anticipation, anxiety pooling into his empty stomach and his heart jolting unnaturally in his chest.
Masuta's eyes lit up a vibrant purple that Yukine could not look away from as the man whispered in his ear. "Auction day."
Yukine was chilled to the bone as the thread of hope he held on to for days was snipped in an instant. He was going to be sold. He was going to be sold.
His time had run out.
Aww, poor Yukine, but it had to be done. This chapter was definitely the hurt, but the comfort is on its way...probably...
