Chapter 1: Recconect
"Anything to report, Yukine-kun?"
Yukine flopped in the chair across from Kazuma's desk with the proper air of an aloof, fourteen year old boy.
"Not really. Nothing new anyway."
Kazuma gave him that look, as if to say act your age. Which wasn't technically fourteen, but he couldn't help that he would forever have the body and emotions of a teenager. Either way, Yukine got the message Kazuma was trying to project.
He sighed and explained in more detail, "Masked Ones converged on the sector I was scouting at nightfall. It looked like they were searching for something. I tracked them all night, but nothing irregular happened. They left empty handed, or pawed… whatever. It's the same kind of activity we've been seeing for the last few months."
"Any clue as to what they might be after?" Kazuma asked, taking notes in his precise shorthand.
"No."
A pause lasted for a few beats.
Yukine squirmed, not liking the way the atmosphere in the office shifted.
"The Masked Ones are combing Tokyo for something." Kazuma pressed his fingers to his temples, thinking out loud, "What is it? The Sorcerer has been lying low for over a decade to recover from Heaven's purge. So why now? What made him suddenly take action?"
Yukine's expression was rueful, "If I knew, I would tell you, Kazuma-san."
Kazuma peered over his glasses at the boy, "We've known each other for years, Yukine-kun. There is no need for formalities. Especially when it's not work related."
"This is work related." Yukine's amber eyes glinted, a hard edge to them.
"No." Kazuma countered, "This is personal, as you well know. Better than I." The last part was soft. The weight and intent was clearly received by Kazuma's younger peer.
"Kazuma-san," Yukine muttered "I'm keeping the two separate."
"You've drawn some sort of line?"
"A borderline." Yukine confirmed, "I'm not going to cross over. Ever. If I can help it. Things have been hard enough as is."
That caused Kazuma to lean forward, "May I ask you... about said things?"
The boy thought about it for a moment, tapping a sneaker impatiently on the floor.
"No." He said finally.
Kazuma sighed, "If you ever change your mind you know I am willing to listen, right?"
A sharp nod was his only reply.
"Anything else?"
"Not that I can think of." Yukine's answer was noncommittal. Perhaps bringing up past – and probably present – heartaches was a bad idea. Kazuma could have just left things well enough alone. But he'd seen too many situations fall into disarray because people had ignored the elephant in the room. He wasn't willing to see it happen again. Especially not with one of his dearest friends.
Kazuma sighed, "Then your report is complete. You may be dismissed. Your compensation will be delivered through the regular route within twenty-four hours. I will contact you via Tenjin for your next assignment."
Yukine heaved himself to his feet and made a casual bow, blond hair growing messier with the movement. He was eager to leave. He wasn't in the mood to see anyone else, be they regalia he was acquainted with or otherwise.
As if his thoughts were a self-fulfilling prophecy, he bumped into someone the moment he stepped into the hall.
"Ah, Yukine-kun!" A strong, steadying hand grabbed his shoulder so he didn't fall, "Are you leaving already?"
"Bishamon-sama." Yukine bowed again, more proper this time as he was owing reverence to a god despite their mutual familiarity. When he looked up, those violet eyes were filled with humor and just a hint of sadness. Why did everyone have to look at him like that? He wasn't about to shatter into pieces.
"I'm on my way to my other job, so I'm in a bit of a hurry."
"Is that so?" Bishamon hummed, "I was just about to call Kazuma for tea. Are you certain you don't have a few minutes to spare? You can join us."
"No." Yukine realized his brief answers were probably rude so he tacked on, "I'm sorry, but I shouldn't be late."
Bishamon sighed, much like Kazuma had only a minute before, "Alright then. But come back soon. Don't be a stranger."
Yukine offered just a hint of a smile at that remark. Stranger? Nothing could be stranger than him right now. His status. His circumstances. He waved goodbye and navigated his way out of the familiar palace.
The god watched as he went, hurried steps carrying him away with a speed that spoke of many things: places to be, preoccupied thoughts, and pain. He hid it well, but even so, Bishamon saw it all.
"Yukine!" She called when he had reached the main door. He didn't look at her. "Just because you no longer have a master doesn't mean you need to bow to me. I keep telling you this."
The boy's hand tightened on the doorknob, knuckles white. Even after many years of service and many years alone, Yukine could not escape his youth and the characteristics that came with it. He was ruled by his emotions. And those emotions had been heavily damaged.
He dealt with it to the best of his ability, but…
But what was a regalia without a god?
Yukine left without acknowledging Bishamon, closing the door roughly behind him. It didn't surprise her in the least. With that ache heavy on her heart, she joined her guidepost in his office. Kazuma too looked agitated after his meeting with the younger regalia. It seemed as if thoughts were flying though his head at a million miles a minute. Despite his uncanny powers of observation and heightened awareness, he barely registered his master's approach.
"Well." Bishamon broke the still air, "What news did Yukine bring?"
Kazuma blinked, the haze of thought clearing from his eyes.
"Nothing incredibly notable." He said, "The same reports about the Sorcerer's activity that we've received for a while now. We can assume that he's rallying again. The number of Masked Ones are high, but since they aren't causing any trouble, Heaven doesn't care. But they will cause trouble when they find what they're looking for, without a doubt. We need to stay a few steps ahead of him or it won't be good for us."
"Is it ever?" Bishamon teased, trying to lighten the mood and snap Kazuma out of overanalyzing things. She circled the desk to rest her hands on her regalia's shoulders. They were tense, "Come on, Kazuma." She pinched the tight muscles, making him jump, "I think it's time for a break."
Grumbling, her guidepost straightened the papers on his desk, "I'm simply frustrated."
"About what?"
"What else? It's been almost forty years and we're no closer to resolving this mess."
"Forty years isn't that long, Kazuma."
"For a god, maybe not. For a human, it's almost half of someone's life."
Kazuma stood with a jerky motion, his movements mechanical. Bishamon could feel him trying to manage his emotions, yet despite his exceptional control, some slipped through: anxiety, doubt, and fear.
She linked his arm in hers, dragging him along, "The Sorcerer might as well be a demon." She stated blandly, "He has lived for centuries. Longer than any human. He nurses a grudge against Heaven itself. And while we were able to deal him a blow during the purge, we knew that wouldn't be the end of him."
Yato had known that better than anyone. Her regalia's head fell.
"But we will fight him." Her tone was matter-of-fact. This had been decided ever since… "And we will win."
"It won't bring Yato back." Kazuma's voice was subdued.
A pang of regret lanced through Bishamon's chest; Kazuma's pain was hers as well. Although she had spent centuries loathing the nameless god of calamity, they had reached a point of quasi-comradery before…
Before his existence had ended.
"Come on, Kazuma. Aiha made jasmine tea."
"Your favorite."
That familiar buzz and light associated with teleporting quickly dwindled away as Yukine arrived back on earth. Visiting heaven was, as usual, an uncomfortable experience for him. While he'd been there many times with and without Yato, it never came to a point where it felt like home.
And why would it?
His master was never properly established there. Eve after Hiyori had made a shrine for Yato, they'd continued to board with Kofuku and Daikoku for years. Which was mainly due to the fact that Yato stubbornly insisted on never charging anything other than five yen. That joke of a god was as traditional as they came, although he never looked the part in his jersey.
Yukine waved at Mayu across the courtyard of the scholar god's shrine, "Please thank Tenjin-san for me when you see him. I've got to head out before I'm late to work at the shop."
"No problem, Yukine-kun." The woman's smile was the color of cherries and spoke in volumes of affection, "Take care!"
He couldn't help but roll his eyes, "Don't I always?"
"I'm afraid you've inherited the bad habit of finding trouble from your master." Mayu answered with a giggle, "That's why I have to stay on your case."
Yukine pouted, but didn't argue any further. He always lost when he argued with Mayu. She was a deadly combination when it came to those kinds of things: wicked debating skills and razor sharp wit.
All the same, he appreciated her immensely. Her gusto. Her savvy sensibilities. And her willingness to talk about Yato. Mayu missed him too, in her own way, which gave them something in common. She could broach the subject of his late master with fond memories rather than the doom-and-gloom approach that Kazuma always tried.
There weren't many people that missed Yato.
Yukine stuffed his hands in his pockets, turning away from the tidy shrine. The plum trees were flowering. That along with the bite in the air reminded Yukine that it was mid-February on earth. Time seemed to be slipping by faster every year. He tried not to think about it too much.
The path from Tenjin's shrine to Kofuku's store was a familiar one, well-traveled over the time that had passed since he'd become a regalia. He recognized every building, every street corner, and many of the people. Even some of the smaller ayakashi were familiar – small-fry phantoms that liked to lurk about the citizens and alleyways.
He paid them no mind, even though their stares fixed on him as he passed by. A stray cat he'd been feeding recently caught up to his heels and meowed for attention. He bent to scratch it behind the ears, watching pedestrians as they hurried by, ignorant of his presence.
A frown pulled at his lips.
Things changed without a master.
"Gotta get to work." Yukine mumbled to the cat, "Work. Work. Work. That's all I do these days."
But he was reluctant to leave. The stray had flopped over on the sun-warmed cement and purred nonstop as Yukine rubbed its belly.
Another hand joined his, doubling the cat's volume.
"Need me to look out for him then?"
Yukine looked up into the face of a young woman. She was close, leaning down to pet the cat. Short, brown hair sat in messy curls on her shoulder. Her tawny eyes were fixed on the stray, though it was obvious she had been talking to him.
That alone threw Yukine for a loop.
"What?" He said stupidly.
The young woman met his eyes, "If you've got to get going, I can look out for this guy. It's obvious that he needs some love."
"Oh."
"You must be the only one who pets him." She giggled, "He's attention starved. I can tell because I'm a university student and I'm pet starved too. Is he yours?"
"No." Yukine answered faintly, "He's a stray."
"Did you give him a name?"
Yukine shook his head. Something about her intense stare was familiar. Her irises were such a golden-brown that they seemed to shine with their own light. That quality reminded him strongly of…
Hiyori.
"Who are you?" it came out harsher than he meant.
The young woman wasn't deterred. "I'm Amaya Miyamoto. And you are?"
"Yukine."
"Yukine-kun." She tipped her head, "That's a cool name."
Is it familiar? He wanted to say, but he bit his tongue. With her leaning this close, he could smell the scent of roses coming off her winter coat and thick, pink scarf.
"We should give him a name." Amaya announced, meaning the cat. "Got any ideas?"
"Yato."
"Hmmmm… Sounds good. Does it have some kind of meaning?"
"Night Sword."
"An interesting choice." Amaya appeared to be thinking deeply, "Any specific reason for it?"
Yukine looked at the cat and shrugged.
"Am I keeping you?"
"Huh?" Yukine's eyes snapped up to Amaya's and that expression on her face was so familiar it hurt.
"Am I keeping you from getting to work?"
"It's not that big of a deal."
"Oh."
With Amaya's questions exhausted, the two continued to pet the cat. Yukine knew from experience that eventually the stray would get tired of the attention and go from adoring to aggressive like the flick of a switch. A lot like someone he knew, come to think of it. But he didn't want this moment to end. Because as soon as Amaya Miyamoto walked away, she'd forget his existence.
Just like she'd forgotten his existence over a decade ago. The day after her mother, Hiyori Iki-Miyamoto, had died.
*huge inhalation* WELL...
I've been nervous to post this, but here goes nothing. This is an idea I've had for a while and I'm really excited about writing it (even though I still have some details to work out). Anyway, the first few chapters set the stage. I'd really appreciate feedback and I'll answer any questions provided it's not a spoiler!
Thanks for taking the time to read! I hope you enjoy!
PS: the fluff will come eventually, I promise! ^.^