Yato focused on nothing more than Hiyori's mouth on his, the sweet taste of her mouth, her hands around his shoulders. I'm a fool.

I can't leave you.

I don't want to.

You're going to get hurt, but I'll bind up your wounds, if you lend me your shoulder when I can't walk.

She was strong, so strong. And she still wanted to be close to him even though he was the one who would never be normal, not after the life he'd had, Father, and even before Father.

She was lonely, wasn't she? Somehow, despite having two parents, a doctor for a father, a grandmother and an older brother, she still didn't quite feel like she had a place.

I want to be that, for you.

You can be yourself, with me.

He was scared, diving into a deep pool of water, and he didn't know where the bottom was, and he couldn't breathe, but she was holding his hand.

A throat cleared. Yato flushed, pulling back.

"Does this mean you're my older sister or my mom now?" asked Yukine, folding his arms.

Crap! Why was it him of all people? Yato pointed his finger at him. "Don't go getting any ideas."

Yukine frowned, confused.

"Sure," Hiyori agreed. Her cheeks were pink. She looked cute.

"That was adorable," called Kofuku's voice from an open window.

"Kofuku!" scolded Daikoku.

"Next time don't make out outside!"

I'm done. Yato ducked inside, tugging Hiyori after him. Yukine followed. I have a girlfriend?

He liked this. Yukine seemed happy, chattering with Hiyori, and she helped him proofread an essay due the next day. He'd just have to be smart. No sleepovers while Yukine was here. Hiyori would understand. His face burned just thinking of it.

The next day, Hiyori held his hand when they walked around campus. He still felt scared, but it wasn't as if they were going to keep it a secret. Father could stuff it. Hiyori had been kicked out of his class, but she said she didn't care. He suspected she was lying, but didn't want to press, not just now.

It was strange how freeing it felt to have someone beside him and someone to go home to—someones, almost, now, since Hiyori visited in the evenings for dinner more often than not. Yato wondered what it would be like to meet Hiyori's family. He wasn't sure he was ready for that. Her father was a doctor. He'd surely look down on someone like Yato, who was just scrabbling for a way to keep himself afloat and his kid afloat, too. Or maybe not, since Hiyori wasn't like that, but he didn't want Hiyori's dad dragged into Father's typhoon of terror. Also, he was probably thinking too fast. They only just started dating. Why am I like this?

About two weeks after they started dating, Yato heard someone call out his name.

Fuck. He'd been expecting this, and yet he was still not ready. Yato turned around to see Father jogging up to him, a beaming smile on his face. "Decided to drop the charges?" Yato greeted him.

"Right down to business, are we today?" Father chuckled, massaging the back of his neck. He smiled. "I might, if you have dinner with me."

Yato paled.

"It'd make Nora happy."

"I don't—"

"Don't care? Are you really so cold, Yoboku? Dumping one family for a new one? What will happen when Hiyori no longer interests you, or that brat disappoints you as he surely will. You know, he and Nora are getting awfully friendly at school, I'm even getting concerned—"

"Shut up," Yato said. Think, think, let me think! He felt like the man was using some kind of magic on him, corrupting his thoughts, forcing him into a constricting time capsule that would change who he was and how he breathed and revert him. "Don't you dare threaten Yukine again. Or Hiyori."

"I won't if you-"

Yato's hand shot out, grabbing the man by the throat. "You won't."

Father snorted. "Protective over your girlfriend? Yukine—"

"Why are you like this?" Yato demanded. His hand shook. He let the man go, curling his fists. What have I done? "Why do you have to—why—"

"I want to protect the family I have, the life I have," Father said simply. The sun passed behind a cloud, enclosing them in shadows. The ground was damp from last night's rain. Yato spotted his reflection in a puddle, sliced and distorted by the breeze. "I want you back. And I don't want to lose my job. I had no way of knowing that grad student was depressed."

Yato watched his reflection turn into a bubbled mess as the wind picked up. His hair flapped into his eye. He pushed it aside. "You could have been kind."

"Kindness isn't a way to ensure growth. I did not want the kid to kill himself. You can't think I'm to blame for another person's actions, am I? He made his own choices, and I—I certainly could have helped more than I did, but I'm not responsible. And that girl hit me."

"She was just trying to—"

"My nose still hurts."

"Boo hoo."

Father exhaled. "I've been put on Kazuma's committee for his oral presentation at the end of the semester. The one that determines whether or not you can continue with the program. I certainly didn't request it."

"Now why would I believe you?" Yato's heart pounded. Bishamon would be pissed. The department couldn't allow this, could they?

"Yoboku, my job's at risk. I can't lose Nora—they'll take her, and it's not as if you want her, if I lose my job. And even now my research is suffering, and I've lost the respect of my classmates—I only made a joke to Bishamon about her skirt length once; you've made similar jokes, that I know—"

I'm just as bad as you. I'm just like you.

No!

I don't want to be!

A leaf floated by his head. Yato watched it fall to the ground, scamper over the pavement.

"Please, Yobuku," said Father. "I do feel for the grad student, and your girlfriend—it's not making me happy to make her miserable—I just can't—I lost my wife, you know that, and I—"

The wind died down. Yato's reflection solidified, the dark hair, the shape of his eyes, his sweatshirt and his jeans, bought with his own money. Yato glared up at the man. His voice shook like branched knocking against each other, but he spoke anyways. "His name was Suzuha. The grad student. And my name's Yato."

He spun on his heel. He took off. He ran, ran straight to his home. He texted Hiyori. He pounded on Bishamon's door.

"What is it?" She flung it open.

"My bastard father is going after Kazuma."

Her eyes ignited into purple flames. She yanked Yato into her apartment, slamming the door. Karuha hissed from his perch on the window sill, surveying all the people he deemed unworthy of life or whatever it is that miserable cat did for fun.

"Are you serious?" she demanded. Her hands rested on her hips.

"Yes," said Yato, chest heaving. "He said he wouldn't if I—if I had dinner with him."

"Don't do it," Bishamon said immediately. "You can't."

Yato slumped onto her couch. Karuha backed up even though he was still across the room from it. What is your problem? Bishamon picked the cat up, and he immediately started purring and garing spitefully at Yato. "He sees people just as—things. He's mad that he lost his wife, the one he married right after high school. To be honest, I don't even know if he loved her, or if he just saw her as an object."

Bishamon cussed. "Who knows?" She dropped into a lavender armchair. Karuha curled up on her lap, as if it knew it was safe with her. She stroked the creature's fur. "Maybe I should just withdraw."

Maybe.

But…

Please don't. "If you do, then you're the loser."

She narrowed her eyes. "What would you do?"

"I don't know. What I am doing, I guess, since he's going after Hiyori."

"But you're dating."

"What exactly are you and Kazuma, besides dumbasses?"

Bishamon's jaw dropped. "I beg your pardon?"

"Proper, huh?" He scowled.

"We're friends and roommates and neither of us have time for a relationship."

"But he matters to you," Yato pointed out. He ground his teeth. You owe me for this, Kazuma.

"Well, obviously." Bishamon flicked an earring. She pulled Karuha up again, snuggling him to her chest.

He makes you feel wanted.

All the cats, all the grad students, all the mentoring—do you just want to feel wanted?

He rose. "Don't drop out."

She managed a wavering smile. "I won't."

As he expected, Kazuma stopped by before Hiyori would arrive with Yukine. She said she'd walk him home from school. "You heard?" Yato asked.

"I hate your father more than anything," replied Kazuma. He curled his fists. His spine hunched, as if he was trying to implode on himself. Which might be less messy than an explosion, but would also leave Yato more open to Bishamon's rage.

"Welcome to the club." Yato scowled.

"I hate myself," whispered Kazuma. "I really, really hate myself."

"Why?" Yato demanded.

Kazuma dropped onto the couch, hanging his head between his knees. "All I do is create problems for the people I love. I'm nothing but a burden—a fungus, really."

"Okay, biology dude, let's not make gross comparisons."

Kazuma didn't even laugh. Yato didn't know what to do. Kazuma gripped his knees so hard he looked as if he might snap his kneecaps clean off. If he said that out loud Kazuma would probably snap at him that that's not how anatomy worked or whatever. "This always happens."

Yato wondered about Kazuma's family. Maybe it was better not to ask.

"I want—I want—" He exhaled. "I really don't even want to live, but I don't want to die. I've always thought myself better than—scum like your father, and yet—I'm the same, aren't I? Aren't I? I manipulated to get you and Nora to help Bishamon keep her apartment—she says if I trusted her I wouldn't have done that—I'm bad, I'm really—a bad person." He lifted his face, and Yato saw tears streaming. "I don't deserve her."

"And yet she chose to live with you," Yato pointed out. He wanted to grab that chicken throw pillow, hold it to his chest for protection from the tears, but he was out of reach. Damn.

Kazuma shook his head. "I don't know why."

"You could ask her." Communication.

Kazuma shook his head again. "I'm—afraid of what the answer might be. I'm—if she knew everything about me—all I do is try to help her and I hurt her, and now my mere existence is a risk for her, and I—she won't back down, because she's stubborn, and I wouldn't want her to, and I would want her to—I don't even know. I don't want her to lose that fire that makes her Bishamon."

"What did you do?" Yato whispered.

"I hacked into Kaguha—the TA's—files to find some of the emails where he was rude to Suzuha. It was dumb. She can't even use those; they're unfairly gotten."

"Oh gods, how terrible. You're going straight to hell." Yato's voice sounded biting, sarcastic, and he couldn't help it. "Haven't I done worse? I don't—as yoboku—I did whatever my father wanted for me. My teacher is dead because he bullied her into killing herself, because she was too good of a person." Don't be Sakura, Kazuma. Please don't die. Please don't leave us. Please live. "But I'm still—Hiyori—"

A sad smile broke Kazuma's lips. "You're far braver than I am."

"I'm a coward."

"No," said Kazuma, getting to his feet. "No, you're not."

You are, though. You really are.

"Don't be stupid," warned Yato.

Kazuma shrugged. "I am stupid."

Yato wanted to tear his hair out. Kazuma disappeared.

He groaned, head in his hands. Hopefully Hiyori and Yukine would get here soon, distract him. He should probably ask Yukine about Nora. Warn him about romance, about what Father said, have a talk that Yato would rather be pecked by birds and stung by bees than have.

It could wait.

"I talked to him," said Nora. "I really did. He said he'd offer Yato a deal, but…" She hunched her shoulders. "Apparently he hates us enough not to even want a dinner with us."

"He doesn't hate you," said Yukine. "I think he just doesn't trust you. Or your father."

Nora nodded. "Clearly not." She slid her gaze to Yukine. "Are you going to break up with me now?"

"Huh?" He blinked. The sun glared down on them. He squinted,

"Because I can't get him to do it, even though I tried?" Nora curled her fists.

"Of course not!" Yukine exclaimed. Is that really how shallow you think I am?

Or was that how her father actually was? Thinking she was only worth something based on what she could do for him? Did he still think Yato had worth because of that, or did he inherently favor Yato over Nora?

Nora pulled her knee to her chest. "Oh."

"What?" asked Yukine.

"You're special is all," Nora said. "Because most people would not still be here."

"I think it's sad and pathetic you think like that," Yukine retorted.

Nora scowled at him. But she was cute when she was angry. Now that he was no longer afraid of her.

"I wish you thought of yourself as a person," Yukine said, kicking his legs out. They sat on the same stone wall as always.

Nora caught her breath.

"That's what Yato said to me," said Yukine. "After they arrested me. He asked me if I wanted to live like a—like a normal person, or really just a person, since he didn't know what normal was, instead of as a criminal or a—" He stopped himself. "Did you know about that?"

"Father told me," Nora said. "Yes."

"But you still like me."

She nodded. "It sounds like something he would say. Yato." She picked up a pebble and tossed it.

"I wish you would like like that," said Yukine, facing her. White clouds loomed on the horizon. "I think you are a person whom I like, so."

"What do you think I'm living as? A ghost?" Nora snorted.

"A tool," he said. "You don't need to do stuff to be wanted. Not by people who really love you. If you stopped trying to be useful to Yato he might come—he might come around." Yukien studied his knuckles.

"I don't know if anyone really loves me, then," Nora said, her voice haunted, a vapor in the wind.

"I can," he said. Do I?

Maybe. He could ask Hiyori what love was like. She loved Yato, didn't she? Okay, so they'd been dating like two weeks. But still. The way Yato kissed her…

Nora wiped at her eyes.

"Are you crying?" he asked.

She shrugged.

I want to kiss you like that. "Can I kiss you?"

She nodded. Yukine imitated what he'd seen Yato doing with Hiyori, hands clutching her face, but no, his hands gripped her shoulders instead, and she leaned in, kissing him back with that same fervor.

The bell rang, and they hurried into the classroom. One of their classmates pointed at them and whispered. Yukine ignored them.

When school ended, Nora approached his locker. "I texted Father."

"Hm?" Yukine stuffed his books into his bag.

"I told him what you said. That backing off might—help Yato. If he really loves him, and he does, so. That hurting Hiyori isn't going to make Yato like him any more." Nora shifted. "Maybe that'll get him to drop the charges. I don't think there's anything more I can do."

He swallowed. "Thank you."

She smiled. A real smile, with her eyes lighting up.

"Is the slut actually settling down?" called a voice.

"Don't believe her, Yukine, run for your life!"

"It's hopeless; the bitch's already got him under her spell."

Laughter broke out. Nora scowled.

Yukine turned to them all, raising his middle finger. Nora's eyes bulged. A titter emerged from her lips. "Let's go." He grabbed her hand, pulling her with him. His insides clamped. He wanted to punch them. How could they—

"What? For real?" Nora panted as she jogged to keep up with him.

"For real. They don't have the right to treat you like that."

"Because it's a lie?"

Yukine turned to her. "Because you're a person and no one deserves that." He shoved the doors open. His heart pounded.

The clouds brewed above, completely shrouding the sun. Rain poured down on them. Thunder crackled in the distance.

"Shit," breathed Yukine. He had no umbrella.

Nora squeezed his hand. Oh right, he was still holding it. She smirked. "Let's go to my place. Father won't be home for awhile, and you can leave before you have to see him. I want to show you something."

"Um—okay," he stammered.

"Run!" She dragged him through the streets. Rain smacked their faces, wind rifling through their hair. Yukine's sneakers, the ones Yato bought him, splashed into a puddle, soaking him through his socks. He yelped. Nora shrieked as a car drove by and splashed them. But she was laughing, and he—he liked the sound.

Nora fumbled with her key, swinging the door open to her house. It looked different without all the partiers… empty, really, without much art or anything on the walls. Nora shivered, pulling him upstairs. She yanked open her bathroom door, handing him a towel to dry off. From her dresser drawer, she pulled out a stack of photos. And then she ducked into her bathroom to change out of her skirt and vest, as they were plastered to her.

Yukine fiddled with the photographs. He saw Yato, and Nora. And sometimes Father, in happier times. But there was a sad look on Yato's face, too.

"I miss them," said Nora, reemerging in sweats. "I mean, I miss this. I want to—I felt like I had a family then." She dropped down next to him. "You made me feel like I could have one, today."

Yukine blinked. "Me?"

She nodded, pulling her soaked hair back from her face. She checked her phone. Her eyes widened. "Yukine!"

"Yeah?"

She held the phone out to him. A text from Father. Fair point. I'll drop the charges.

Yukine gaped. "Do you—do you think he'll actually do it?"

Nora smiled. "If he said it, he'll do it." She clapped her hands together.

"Are you happy?" he asked her.

"Aren't you?"

He nodded. His heart thumped in his chest. Because—because he remembered that feeling, after Yato challenged him to live like a person, to live like who he wanted to be instead of sinking under the weight of the cruelties life rolled at him again and again, to try—it was freeing.

I really do like you, Nora.

I'm glad I'm getting to know you. Even with their rough start, even with the way she'd manipulated him in the beginning—if it was all leading here, he felt nothing but soft sunlight. You're worth it.

I really want you to believe it.

He leaned over, and this time, when their mouths met, he felt something like fire igniting in his belly. Her hands, cold and damp from the rain, like ice on his shoulder blades. And she was pulling him down, and he was tugging her up, and there were doubts like shards of glass trying to get in, but he didn't want to think about them, or about anything besides her, and the fact that she wanted him, too.

"Father will be home soon," she said, breaking the sounds of their pants. "You should—go." Her face was red.

What did we do?

About two drops of blood stained the floor. Nora wiped them up. She grabbed her blankets, covering herself. Her brow pinched.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

She met his gaze and nodded. "Are you?"

He nodded as well. "I'll text you tonight." You're not a slut. I don't think of you that way. And even if you were, so what? I'm not any better.

"I wanted to," Nora said quietly. "I'm—not—"

"I'm not either," Yukine said. "I wanted to, too."

She smiled. "Does it sound bad if I say I liked it?"

"No," said Yukine. "I did, too."

"How was school?" Yato greeted him when he got home.

"Fine," Yato said, and he could tell Yato knew he was omitting something, but he didn't press, and Yukine didn't know how to tell him.