Lie, or not to lie? Tell the truth?

She gaped at Father, the one she'd relied on to protect her for so many years. Her arms felt cold, gooseflesh rising and prickling. "Why—what—"

"Whose is it? Do you know?"

Bile surged up her throat. So even you—even you think I'm— But she'd already vomited everything out of her stomach, and nothing else remained for her to purge. She wanted to cry.

"So it's Yukine's." Father rubbed his child. "That's good. That's useful. Clever of you."

Huh? But she hadn't done it on purpose. She really hadn't. They'd even tried to avoid it. Okay, they hadn't been great the first few times about protection, but—

"Yato will definitely have to talk to us now," Father mused. "Of course, terminating it would be too quick; he could just send a check, though he can't really afford it—"

"What?" She didn't understand. Are you trying to say I have to have it? She hadn't even thought about what she wanted to do, whether or not she wanted to have it or have an abortion. And Yato—Yato—he already didn't like her. He already thought the worst of her. If Father decided to use her pregnancy to make him comply, he'd only hate her more.

He won't care. I can't make him care. No matter what I do.

I'm useless.

And now he wanted to use the worst thing in her life and the best thing in her life—her relationship with Yukine—and oh fuck, Yukine wouldn't believe her either, would he? That she hadn't planned it.

What if Yato blamed Yukine? What if Yukine—

Not from Father's lips, he won't believe it.

And what about her? What about her future? Did she ever have one? She used to think so, but—it was just more of the same. Her and Yato and Father. Lately, Yukine too.

Do you even care?

You have to care!

Or do you just not want me to leave you? Don't you trust me? I won't! You have to know I won't—I—

This wasn't what I wanted at all!

Father…

What did it mean, if he was wrong? What did it mean, if she wasn't sure she could trust him in this? She was bad, clearly. She should trust him. He'd never failed to care for her. And yet—and yet—Father!

Father, help me!

Father, listen to me!

She curled her fists, nails embedding in her palms. She was scum, algae at the bottom of a pond. She was so ungrateful to let herself doubt him. And yet—and yet—

Yukine, please don't hate me.

I'm scared.

Was this how Yukine felt when trapped in that tight basement, the walls closing around him, choking out air? Because that was how she felt now. She could scream, scream until her throat bled, and no one would hear her. Not Father. Not Yato. No one.

And if I have this child, what then? What would you do to them? What would they be good for? Single mothers were hardly respected. And what, would Yukine marry her in a few years? Still.

I'm so stupid.

I'm not clever. I'm an idiot.

She did not want to have a child and use it. Because—because—use—

She found herself in her room, crying herself to sleep. But she drifted in a fog, half-awake, half-asleep, not belonging anywhere or giving her mind any kind of relief.

Maybe I'll miscarry.

Can't that kill you? I don't want to die. And I don't—that's a terrible thought.

A text lit up her phone. Yukine. I'm bored.

Not for long, she thought sourly.

How's it going?

Her fingers hovered over the response button. Clearly Father hadn't contacted Yato yet. But he would. He would soon.

Rain pattered on the window. It was dark now, and she felt no more rested.

Father…

Yukine would never trust her again if he heard it from Father first. Yato wouldn't, either. He never would anyways. But Yukine… would he?

You're such a fool, Yukine.

I wish I was more of a fool. She wondered about that cool innocence, something she'd never had. All she remembered was a torrid sense of desperation clamping around her, clammy and entrapping.

She grabbed her phone and stuffed it in her pocket. Father was in his room. He didn't even notice as she slipped down the stairs, and out into the night.

Plink.

Clink.

At first, Yukine thought it must be hail. He scrambled up from where he was lying on his bed, trying to study but really just waiting for Nora to text back since she usually wasn't asleep by this point.

But then one grated against his window, and he leaped to his feet. He scampered over to the window, heart pounding. He peered down.

Nora stood there, drenched in the rain, tossing pebbles. He yanked the window open, and one of the pebbles hit him in the face. "Ow!"

She squinted up at him. Was she crying, or was it just the rain. It was too dark to tell. He gestured for her to meet him at the front door.

Hiyori and Yato were talking in his room, their voices low murmurs. Yukine slipped the door open, careful not to jar the knob, and darted down the stairs. He swung it open. "What the hell are you—"

She was crying. Tears streamed from her eyes and snort form her nose. She grabbed him. "I don't—have anywhere else—I can go—"

"What happened?" Yukine didn't understand. "Did Father—"

"He just wants to use me," she managed. "He doesn't actually care—I thought—he—he—" She covered her mouth, muffling a guttural sob.

"Yato can help," Yukine said, shutting the door. He wrapped an arm around her. The sound of footsteps in Kofuku and Daikoku's apartment reminded him that they shouldn't have that conversation here. He tugged her towards the stairs.

She shook her head, droplets flying everywhere from her saturated hair. "I—can't—I went to see Yato earlier—he doesn't want to see me—don't—"

"Huh? You went?" He didn't understand. Why didn't she tell him? She said she—you lied to me?

"I'm so scared," Nora said, shivering. "I'm so scared, Yukine." Her teeth chattered.

He held his finger to his lips, easing the door to the apartment open again. They darted through the living area to his room. He shut the door.

It was the first time Nora had ever been in his room. He flushed. He didn't really have any decorations, and his blankets were all retrieved from a secondhand store. Nora didn't seem to care, though. She went over to his bed and collapsed onto it, muffling her sobs in the navy blue quilt.

"Nora?" he ventured. He eased himself down next to her. "Did he—kick you out?" Yato would take her in then, wouldn't he? "Did he—"

She shook her head. "I left—I'm—I'm scared of him, scared of me, scared, I've never not been scared—" Blood leaked out from her fingers.

Yukine yelped, grabbing her fists and disentangling them. "Don't hurt yourself."

"You'll change your mind soon," Nora said, keeping her voice low. "You will. Everyone does. I'm trash and no one wants me—you'll hate me—"

"I won't!" White-hot indignation rose up. "Why would I hate you, Nora? I—I—" I sleep with you! I really like you! I might even—

Love?

"I don't like that name," she mumbled. "Nora. I hate it."

Now he felt trapped. "What do you want me to call you?"

"I don't know." She curled up tighter.

"Why—" He didn't know how to ask why are you here.

"Everyone hates me. Everyone wants to use me and when I disappoint them they hate me." She propped herself up on her elbow, sniffling. "Even you."

"Well, that's not fair," Yukine snapped. "Since you won't even tell me what's wrong. I don't hate you. I don't, I don't, I don't."

"You will." She wiped at her eyes. Thunder crackled outside.

"Stop saying that," said Yukine. At the same time, a horrible fear began to rise in him. What did you do? To Yato? To Hiyori? Have I been stupid?

But I—I liked spending time with you. I like your laugh and your smile, I like your intelligence, I like your bravery. I like how you don't give up when I don't know how to hold on. I like you.

"You will," she said again.

"Just tell me," he begged. "I don't care what it is, I won't—I can't hate you. I can be mad, but I—I can't hate you because I don't want to, no matter what—I think you can make better choices, you wouldn't be acting so ashamed if you were beyond hope—you—I won't give up on you." He grabbed her shoulders. "I won't give up on you. I won't. Okay?" His throat clogged.

I struggle to hold on, but I've held on to Yato. Hiyori. And now, you. I'll hold onto you.

She gaped at him, her lips hovering apart, her nose swollen and eyes scarlet. "I'm pregnant, Yukine. I think."

All the blood drained out of Yukine's face. He couldn't breathe. He just heard that word rattling around in his skull, echoing as if his brain was gone and that was the only thing he knew right now, that she had just said the word pregnant and her.

And—mine?

He swallowed. "Are you—sure?"

"I haven't done a test, but I've been throwing up constantly, and I'm—late." She studied her hands. Her shoulders hunched, trembling.

"I don't hate you," he whispered. If anyone, he might hate—me.

"Father found out," she said. "He thinks I did it on purpose. Yato will think that, too. I went to talk to him—ask him—see if he would—earlier today, but he wouldn't even talk to me and I—I—Father acted like he was glad that he had a fish hook to catch Yato with now, and you, and I don't—I don't want to let him—I don't know if he ever loved me. If he didn't why am I here? Why am I alive?" She wrapped her arms around her knees, drawing them to her chest. "I hate myself. So much."

"I don't." He swallowed. "I love you." Isn't that enough?

She looked at him, chin trembling, and she looked like a child. Having a child. "You shouldn't. Father thinks I'm just a whore now. I'd never put a child in this—I mean—what if I would have? I wouldn't, now that I've met you, but before I might have and I don't even know."

"I don't know," said Yukine. "I don't know, but I know I do love—you."

Teras slipped down her cheeks. "I love you, too. And I've ruined my life, and your life. Can you call that love?"

"We'll tell Yato. And Hiyori." Yukine cleared his throat. "Do you want to—"

"I don't think I'd be a very good mom, but I also—" She let out a sob. "I'm—I don't want to not want it. I don't know what I want. I'm a mess."

Yukine felt hot tears streaming down his own face.

"Are you scared?" she asked.

He nodded, and he held her.

He woke up with her in his arms, both of them fully clothed. His alarm for school was blaring.

She rubbed sleep out of her eyes. "Can we tell Yato after school? Maybe—maybe just you, and then—"

Yukine nodded. "Will Father be angry when he realizes you're—"

"He'll probably assume I went to school early." She swallowed, studying her hands.

"If you want," said Yukine. "I'd rather—you were with me. You're a person, not a thing I have to be—ashamed of—" I'm ashamed of me.

She looked at him, eyes wide. "I'll take a test today. So we know for sure."

"At school?"

"No. I'm not going. Father can suck it."

"But—"

"I'll meet you after school," Nora said. "Text me. I'll be texting you. I promise."

I want to trust you.

Don't run off.

Don't leave me.

"See you later," Yukine said to Yato, shutting the door behind him. He slung his back over his shoulder. Hiyori was in the shower.

Yato frowned, watching Yukine hurry out with his head ducked down, without so much as a glance at Yato. "Do you have something you need to say to me?"

Yukine skidded to a stop. He glanced over his shoulder and shook his head.

You're lying.

You're lying, and I'm failing. Yato swallowed. "Are you sure?"

Yukine hesitated. "Actually, can we talk tonight?" He looked pale. Sweaty.

"Are you feeling all right?" Yato asked, setting his coffee down.

"Not really," said Yukine. "I mean. I'm not sick. We'll talk tonight, okay?" He flashed Yato the fakest of smiles.

Yato watched him go and groaned.

"What's going on?" asked Hiyori, emerging from the bathroom to find Yato glaring at his coffee like it'd personally offended him. Which it had. It was stinging his stomach like acid. Which it was. But fuck that.

"Yukine's—something's wrong with him," said Yato. "He looked so guilty today. He said we'd talk this afternoon, but—"

Hiyori towel dried her hair. "Did—"

"It has to do with Nora, I'm sure," Yato mumbled. "Hiiro."

"You sound like you hate her," Hiyori observed.

"I don't hate her!" Yato burst out. "Not even close. I just—I—I want to protect Yukine from her. I want to protect Yukine from Father, not from her, but as long as she's attached to him, I can't—Father will hurt him. He's hurting her, but I can't—if she doesn't want help, I don't know how to help her."

"Would you want to help her?" asked Hiyori, flopping down next to him. She studied him.

He nodded. "It's not—her fault."

Hiyori waited.

Yato exhaled. "I resent her because she is me. She's like I used to be, only trying so, so hard to convince herself that it's okay because she was even younger than me when he took us in." He remembered her face yesterday, desperate, and he was so afraid to reach out and help her, only to find a handcuff around his own wrist. "I despise that man for what he's done to both of us."

"Fair," said Hiyori. "I hate him, too."

"I just don't know what Father's plotting with her," said Yato.

"She doesn't deserve to be treated like that," siad Hiyori. "And Yato, neither do you."

"If she doesn't want help, then I can't save her, and I don't even know how to even offer when I can't trust her."

"I can try," offered Hiyori. "She was crying yesterday."

Yato rubbed his head. "Maybe she and Yukine had a fight?"

"Probably something like that."

Yato texted Yukine a meme as he and Hiyori headed to college. He hoped the boy was okay. He still couldn't shake a gritty feeling inside his stomach. The sky was gray, bloated with the promise of more thunderstorms on the horizon.

"Yo," called a voice behind them. Bishamon approached, her hands stuck in the pockets of her leather jacket. A cap was pulled low over her blond tresses. "Wait up; I'm walking with you today."

"No car?" Yato asked.

"No car for Sir Asshole to deface," Bishamon corrected. She kicked a pebble ahead, watching it plunkm into a puddle. "Have you heard from Kazuma at all?"

Yato sighed. He shook his head.

"Dammit," said Bishamon. "He's such a fool."

"So are you," Yato said.

"I didn't sell my cats."

"I gave them away."

"You're still an idiot if you thought you could get away with—"

"Hey, hey," interrupted Hiyori. "Bisha. Where do you think KAzuma went?"

"A lonely, craggy mountain top to stare off into the wilderness and contemplate loneliness," Bishamon said sarcastically.

"Fair guess," Yato commented.

She narrowed her eyes. "I don't see why he feels so obligated to—"

"Maybe because you're the only person who's ever treated him like he's worth something," Yato suggested.

"I'm not his god, though," Bishamon said. "Or goddess. I don't want to be looked at like that. I want to be seen as human, and he just—I don't understand why I'm worth that much to him."

Yato blinked. That's rich, coming from someone who constantly plays house with literally everything and everyone she can.

"I wish he wanted to—"

"Yoboku," called a voice.

"Oh Christ," said Bishamon. She whirled around.

"Can we talk?" Father called.

Something was wrong. He was positively beaming. As if he had just eaten the best pastry of his life, and the grains in Yato's stomach dissolved into poisoned sugar, a sickly sweet sensation creeping through his abdomen.

"No," said Hiyori. "Fuck off."

Bishamon nodded in approval. "I like her."

"Flanked by your—"

"No," said Yato. "Enough. If you have something to say, say it with them around. Otherwise, get lost."

"Fine then." Father sighed. He tightened his jacket around them. The first spatters of rain splashed Yato's nose. "Did you know, Yato, that Yukine and Nora are dating? Or at least friends with benefits. And your boy got her pregnant."

The world felt like it was tilting away from Yato. "You're lying."

"I'm not."

"You're really disgusting," Hiyori said.

"That's a lie," Yato said again, trying to chase away the memories of Yukine's terrified face that morning. He wouldn't have done that. He's only sixteen. He is a kid. This would not be happening! I talked to him!

"Have fun on the lake of fire," Bishamon told Father, grabbing Yato's arm and steering him and Hiyori away.

"Yato?" ventured Hiyori.

His phone rang as they both hauled him away.

"I doubt it's true," Bishamon said. "Nora—"

Yato cussed, pulling out his phone. "It's Yukine's school."

And they told him Yukine had stolen a classmate's wallet.