Warning for a mention of suicide this chapter, and underage drinking.
Class and run. His new routine. Only a few days old, but habits already cementing it.
Yato stuffed his books into his bag the moment the professor dismissed them, scrambling off campus before he could risk seeing Professor Fujisaki. He was sure the man knew which classes he was enrolled in. He was probably schmoozing with Yato's professors already. It'd be just like him. And he'd rather get back to that apartment. Kofuku was trying to teach him to cook for Yukine. It was going—well, he hadn't landed either of them in the hospital nor burned down the apartment building yet.
He also didn't want to see Hiyori and explain.
But today when he tried to rush off campus, he found people clotting the sidewalks, all on their phones and gasping. Please get out of my way if you're going to walk so slow.
He saw one girl wiping her eyes and cussed internally. "What's going on?"
"Did you read the campus-wise email?" she asked.
"Uh, no. Not yet." He totally didn't usually delete those.
"A grad student killed himself," she said. "His name was Suzuha."
Yato clutched the strap of his bag.
"Did you know him?" asked the girl.
Yato shook his head. He pushed past her. Bishamon's voice echoed in his mind. He makes fun of Suzuha…
Fuck!
He broke into a run, racing off campus. Running at least made him feel accomplished, like he was doing something, even if it was just saving his own skin from the sticky virus that was Fujisaki. He burst into the apartment building, chest heaving.
Sobs echoed from behind Kofuku and Daikoku's door. Yato hesitated. He wondered if he should knock, should tell Bishamon that he was sorry. Knowing her, she had been motherly to every single underclassman in her lab.
But no. He'd just make her feel worse and remember other things she lost. Yato lowered his chin. He trudged up the stairs.
Kazuma leaned against the door. Yato wasn't even surprised. He didn't greet the other man, twisting the key to unlock it. Kazuma followed him in.
"What happened?" Yato asked, shutting the door behind them. He dropped his bag on the floor. They only had the one couch, and a desk by the window, a desk covered in Yukine's homework. Yato dropped down into the desk chair, gesturing for Kazuma to take the couch.
"She's pissed," said Kazuma. "Your father wouldn't let up on the poor kid. Not that it's his fault, but—"
"He probably enjoyed it," said Yato, curling his fist. "That's the kind of shitbag he is."
Kazuma shrugged. "Bisha was Suzuha's mentor."
Yato covered his mouth, leaning forward, elbow resting on his knee. "She sounds upset."
"Obviously." Kazuma clutched his knees. Silence elapsed. Dust filtered through the late afternoon sunlight, pooling on the desk.
"Yukine's got Nora as a classmate."
Kazuma's eyes bugged. He pushed his glasses back. "Poor him."
"Yeah." Yato flexed his fingers. "Do you ever feel guilty?"
"No," Kazuma answered instantly, so quickly that Yato wasn't sure whether he believed him instantly or expected his nose to grow three sizes. "I can't let myself feel that way. She would—it was in her best interest."
"And she'd hate you for it," Yato pointed out.
"Like she hates you," Kazuma agreed. "But I'd do anything to keep her safe."
"Is this you saying you might ask for something else soon?" asked Yato. "Because there's nothing I can do. I'm not talking to that shitbag as long as I can avoid it."
"I know," said Kazuma. "She's the only one who ever—I mean, she made me believe—I would have dropped out of school if it wasn't for her encouragement, and the way she sticks up for people—it's—but it'll get her in trouble. The world's not kind to people with that sense of justice. And she'll blame herself, you know, for Suzuha."
"Probably."
Kazuma swallowed. He rose. "I'll text you if there are any crises."
"You don't have to," Yato called.
Kazuma smirked. He let himself out.
Yukine staggered in, sans his jacket. He waved at Yato, who tossed a bag of chips at him. Yato had spent the past hour trying various math formulas and contemplating telling them all to get fucked.
"What's with all the crying downstairs?" asked Yukine. "I wanted to ask Kofuku, but I wasn't sure if they'd want to hear from me." He ripped open the bag, offering Yato some. Yato took two.
"Something bad happened to someone in Bishamon's lab," Yato said.
Yukine frowned.
"Suicide," Yato said quietly.
"Oh." Yukine drew his knees up to his chest.
"Also, you forgot your jacket at school," Yato said. He didn't particularly want to discuss suicide right now.
Yukine rubbed his face. "I… gave it away."
"Huh?" Yato didn't understand. He'd saved to buy Yukine that-
"I mean, I let someone borrow it." Yukine's face was scarlet.
Yato narrowed his eyes. "I see."
Yukine shifted.
Yato rested his arm on the back of the chair. "And would that someone happen to be a girl?"
"N-no."
"You," Yato informed him. "Are a terrible liar."
"I'm not!" squawked Yukine. "It's not like that!"
Yato rose, dropping onto the couch next to him. "Spill." Though he wasn't sure he liked the idea of Yukine dating. He was sixteen, but still. Still. He was a kid. Now Yato knew. He didn't like the idea at all.
"The kids just threw soda all over one girl and she was soaked and her shirt was white so I gave her my jacket; that's all!"
"What's her name?" Yato was already planning a background check.
Yukine angrily bit into his chips. Yato tapped his foot, waiting.
"It's Nora," he said finally.
"What?" Yato eked out. Of all the—this wasn't happening. Right? Right?
"It's not like that!" Yukine protested again, hands waving in front of his face. "I promise! I just felt bad—they called her a slut."
Yato scowled. Kids could be so shitty. "Just be careful around her, Yukine."
"It's not like that!"
"Methinks," said Yato. "You doth protest too much."
Yukine hit him with the pillow.
"Here's your jacket."
Yukine jumped. He slammed his locker shut. He hadn't heard anyone approaching.
Nora held out his jacket. His face burned, Yato's words echoing in his mind. He was just teasing. Except he was also serious about warning him, and it really wasn't like that. He'd never had a remotely pleasant conversation with her.
He took the jacket from her. "Thanks."
She looked away from him. "Thank you."
Giggles erupted at the end of the hallway. Nora scowled. "They're going to say you're my latest target."
"They can fuck off," Yukine replied.
Nora's eyes widened. A smile crossed her face, and a small laugh. It was cute.
Wait, what was he thinking? No, no, nope. He was not going to let Yato be right about this.
I hate her.
I can't get her out of my head.
That day, at lunch, she actually talked to him. "Do you have friends?"
"Huh?" Yukine blinked.
"Friends," she said. "Do you have them?"
"Yato," said Yukine.
"I thought he was family."
"I don't know." He wasn't sure whether there was a difference or not. It was cloudy that day. He swung his legs, kicking them out.
"I don't," said Nora. "Father's all I need."
Yukine wondered about all the rumors. Are they even true?
Not that it mattered. Either way, Nora didn't deserve to be treated like that, that much he knew. And of everyone in this school, if his past were to leak out, Nora would probably be the only one who didn't look at him like a criminal. Or maybe she would.
"Hey," said Nora. "Father's making me go to a party this weekend."
Yukine arched an eyebrow. "Making you?"
"It's at our house, and I don't want to go, but he wants me to so I will." Nora kicked her legs out then, like she was trying to swing up towards the sky, but they were sitting on a stone wall, not a swing. "Want to come?"
Yukine blinked. "Yato—"
"Won't come, I know," said Nora. Her hair hid her eyes.
"But you want me to ask him."
"I just don't want him to hate me."
Yukine clenched his palms around the edge of the rough rocks. They scraped. He remembered that feeling, when he looked at Yato when the police came, and he was certain he would hate him, and he hated Yato for that certainty, he hated the shopkeepers, he hated the police, he hated everyone. Why?
But Yato didn't hate him, and it all crashed. Yukine plucked a small chip of rock from the wall, tossing it onto the grass. "What if just I come?" Is this your way of asking for a friend?
Nora nodded. "That'd be fine. I just—I don't like all those people there. They'll all be from the college and all of Father's friends always look at me like I'm a nuisance."
"Then why doesn't he just tell them not to?"
"He does. He just can't control them."
He can control himself though, can't he? And who he is friends with? Yukine scowled. "I'll see you there."
Nora nodded. "Can I get your number?" She pulled out her phone.
Yukine read it off for her, and then a laugh echoed. One of their classmates overheard. Fuck.
Nora looked at him, as if she expected him to shove her away or deny anything.
He didn't feel like it. They could be friends. Maybe. Cautiously, like Yato said.
The weekend rolled around and Yato engrossed himself in studying.
"I'm going out for a little while," Yukine called. "I'll be back in a couple hours. One of my classmates is having a get-together."
"Okay." Yato rubbed his forehead.
Yukine tried to suppress his feelings of guilt. He wasn't sure he really wanted to go, but he kind of had to. Nora was actually fun to talk to at lunch, once she stopped prying for information about Yato, which she was frequently subtly trying to do. But he'd promised Yato he wouldn't say anything about him.
When he approached the house, he heard a bass thumping through the pavement. Yukine cringed. What kind of party was this?
He heard slurred laughter. Oh. A college one.
If Yato didn't have him to worry about, would he be enjoying himself at one of these? Yukine stared up at the house, small but far larger than the apartment he shared with Yato. A couple made out in the driveway. Yukine flinched.
"Hey, Yukine," said a voice behind him.
Yukine yelped, whirling around.
"Sorry," Nora said, carrying several grocery bags.
"Why do you always sneak up on me?" he grumbled.
"I don't. You must be hard of hearing." Nora frowned at the house. "We can hide upstairs. There are too many people."
Oh, thank God. Yukine heaved a sigh. He reached out to help her with the bags. She blinked but handed two over, slipping around the side of the house to a back door. She unlocked it, and he followed her into the kitchen. Thankfully the inside wasn't so wild. Laughter echoed from the living area, and the sweet stench of alcohol filled the air. Nora unpacked some small platters of wraps and other appetizers, setting them out.
"Good job, Mizuchi," called a man.
Shit. Yukine avoided looking at the man.
"Thanks, Father," she said, beaming.
"Who's this?"
"My friend," said Nora. "You told me to invite people, so I did."
"Ah." The man crossed the room, holding out his hand. "Fujisaki."
Yukine craned his neck up, meeting the man's eyes. He was surprisingly handsome, but almost too much so, as if he'd carefully arranged each strand of hair, as if the small wrinkle on his shirt was strategically placed to look attractive. "Yukine."
"Nice to meet you, Yukine." Fujisaki nodded at him, and Yukine felt something cold curdle in his stomach. The man definitely knew who he was beforehand. He must have told Nora about Yukine and Yato, right?
"Sorry," Nora said as soon as he left. "We don't have to see him after this."
Yukine nodded.
"Let's go to my room," Nora said. "I have some art things there. We can paint."
"Uh, okay." He hoped she meant painting. Another thought made his hands clammy. He really hoped the rumors about her weren't true.
"Hey, I'll just—" A girl entered the kitchen and froze. "Yukine?"
He gaped at her. "Hiyori?"
Don't tell Nora don't tell—
She grabbed him in a hug. "I haven't seen you in so long! Or Yato—"
"He's been looking for you," Yukine blurted out, meeting her purple eyes. "Yato has been, I mean."
"Really?" She grinned. "What are you doing here? You're not in college." She put her hands on her hips. Like a mom, and he didn't even mind.
"Friends," he said, gesturing to Nora. "This is Nora."
Nora waved. She had a glazed look on her face.
"I'm Hiyori," she chirped.
"Well, we're about to go paint, so—" Though he really would not mind staying here and talking to Hiyori. At least he felt comfortable with her.
"Of course, have fun!" Hiyori tugged at her hair. "Hey, Yukine?"
He turned around.
"Can you give me his number?"
"Sure." Yukine rattled it off. Hiyori tapped it into her phone. This lessened the guilt he felt about deceiving Yato. At least if he got in touch with Hiyori over Yukine being here, he couldn't be too mad.
Nora climbed the stairs two at a time. Yukine hurried to keep up. She let him into her room, which looked very much like a traditional Japanese room. Pretty, but haunting. She set down two cups.
"What's that?" Yukine demanded.
"I made a wine cooler," Nora said. "Soda and wine. Not much wine." She held it out to him. "Yato won't mind. He used to get drunk sometimes. He was a funny drunk."
"There are kinds of drunks?" Yukine took the cup. He stared at the pink, bubbly liquid.
She looked at him like he was an idiot. Which he wasn't. Well, maybe. Now he was flustered and annoyed.
"What kind of drunk are you?"
"I've never been drunk." Nora took a sip. She reached behind him and opened a cabinet, removing various jars of ink and paint. Yukine let out a breath. "Do you like it?"
"No," said Yukine, glaring at the liquid. "It's—bitter."
Nora laughed.
"I don't know how to paint," said Yukine.
"That's okay. It's the only thing I like to do. Besides spend time with Father and Yato, but Father's busy lately." Nora cocked her head. "What do you like to do?"
"I don't know," Yukine said. "Study, I guess."
Nora picked up a brush and sketched a kanji on her forearm. Mizuchi.
"Hey, why did he call you that?" asked Yukine.
"That's his name for me," answered Nora. "Yato used to call me Hiiro. I liked that name." She scowled, painting Hiiro on her arm next, and then slashing black through it, blotting it out.
You're weird. "But isn't your name Nora?"
"Legally," answered Nora. "But I don't like it."
"Oh." Yukine reached for a brush and a piece of paper. "I don't know what to do."
"Just paint whatever you want." The sounds of the party echoed down the stairs.
Yukine scowled. He took another gulp of the wine. Ew. He painted himself and Yato and Nora. Except they looked like stick figures.
Nora smirked.
"I suck," said Yukine.
"It's cute. Who's the girl?"
"You," he said. "You're like. One of a few people I know, so."
Nora blinked. Her phone buzzed. She rolled her eyes. "I have to go downstairs for a minute."
"'Kay." Yukine glared at his painting. He wished he hadn't started. It looked terrible. She'd at least managed a pretty sunset after she finished painting names on herself.
What happened to you, that you have to live with a foster father? Or Yato?
But he didn't want to talk about things, so neither did they. Yukine rested his chin on his knee. This room felt too proper, like no one actually lived in it. He shivered, gulping more of the wine.
Nora was taking a long time. He rose, checking his phone. Maybe he could find her. He didn't like how that drink made him feel.
He reached the bannister and froze. Because down below, he saw Fujisaki. And Hiyori. And Fujisaki was leaning over her, his lips on hers. She's your student, asshole! Yukine curled his fists.
And so much for wanting to text Yato. Yukine's lip trembled. Yato would be—if he quit biology just to avoid the man and didn't want him hanging out with Nora, then—Hiyori, why?
I thought Yato could at least get a happy ending, have things work out. Change.
I want to, too.
He turned and pushed down the stairs, worming his way towards the door. He didn't know why he tried. Or why this was upsetting him so much. He was stupid.
"Yukine?" Nora appeared in front of him. "What's wrong?"
"I'm going home," he spat. "Sorry."
She crossed her arms, not protesting like he expected. "Fine."
Yukine headed outside. The night air was cool, crisp. He wiped at his eyes. There was no moon though, and the streetlights did little to abate the darkness. He paused at the end of the driveway, yanking his jacket tighter around himself. He was so stupid. So stupid for being this upset.
The door opened again behind him, the dull clamor of the music suddenly sharp again. Yukine turned around.
Hiyori hurried outside, her face crumpled. She stopped when she saw him. "Yukine? What's wrong?"
"What's wrong with you?" he blurted out. He really didn't have any right to be mad at her. She and Yato barely knew each other. He just—
"That gross professor just kissed me," said Hiyori. "He's a creep. And—" She paused. "Did you have a drink?"
Yukine wrapped his arms around himself. "Like half of one." He wondered if he looked drunk. He didn't think so. He didn't even think he was. Well, maybe he was a stupid drunk.
Hiyori frowned. "How are you getting home?"
"Bus?"
"I'll walk you."
"Or I could give you a ride," came another voice. "Since I know where you live."
Yukine looked up.
Bishamon.
Well, I'm fucked.