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“Yeah so, you could totally thank me for saving your life anyway you want to be honest. It could range from getting me my own personal mansion, money, umaibos of any kind, money. Really, you name it. I am not above receiving anything the great Bishamon decides to bestow me.” She heard Yato beam as he strode across the balcony. Bishamon sat still as a stone, her back turned against him. Since the time he came in, she had not acknowledged him, but neither did she turn him away.
It had been two whole months since her attack on Takamaga-hara, yet she still felt the weight of her wounds. Miraculously, (or obviously), she was absolved of all transgressions, criminal and otherwise, including the deaths she had caused. Nana was spared, as was Kazuma, and the rest of her shinki. She had all the world to be thankful for, and yet her heart did not desire gratitude.
She watched as her beloved children conversed and played down in the gardens below her. She watched them with vacant eyes. She did not deserve them.
“Hell, you don't even have to stop there! You could just financially support me and Yukine for the rest of our lives if you want! Really! Whatever you want…!” Yato kept blabbered on, but she did not move. He could've said whatever ridiculous notion that came to his mind, and she would not do a thing.
“Damn…what's wrong with you, woman?” He then said. His tone changed. “Here I thought you would've felt better, but instead you just keep sulking. You'll worry the others if you keep it up, you know. I'm sure Kazuma would appreciate the aneurysm.”
She remained silent.
“Don't get me wrong, shit got more than a little intense back there. Even now, I’m still pullin’ Takemoron’s hair out my ass. But even you have to admit, it could've been a lot worse.”
Bishamon heard him come closer. Her shoulders went ridged as he stood beside her.
“Look, maybe they are just fucking with us. Heaven, Amaterasu…maybe we don't have a reason to feel safe.” He paused. “Truth is, we’re not…but that's why we can't back down. We can't be seen as weak.”
“We?” Bishamon spoke. She turned to face him, her eyes clouded with tears.
“Yato…there is no we. You are the not the one whom they decided to crucify as a martyr. I'm the one who has everything to lose…I see that now.” She said.
“You're father intended to have me reincarnated. I live, but only because I know better than to take the Heavens for fools. They were never going to kill me. Don’t you see? They have my family on a string for all to hold witness…they'd have me as a prisoner rather than settle for my head…!”
Yato glared, but said nothing. Bishamon then lowered her gaze to the gardens.
“That was my fault, however. I was blinded by my own arrogance and need for justice to see what I had forgotten. The Heavens are resolute, and I’ve grown tired....” She sighed.
“If I reward you for helping me, it will only be because you answered my call. I would retain what little is left of my honor that way, and be done.”
Yato scoffed.
“So what…is this you becoming humble? Since when has the great Bishamon-ten bowed her head to the Heavens? You think that by playing the role of a martyr, they'll leave you alone? Any way you look at it, you're a sitting duck.” He scowled, but she refused to retaliate.
“If think like that, you’d really be no better than a child.”
“You forget yourself, Yato-gami. You forget that deep down, I am but a coward.” She laughed. “I have no right to pretend that I am more than that. The past only proves it. I haven't learned a thing since.”
She expected him to get angry, to rebuke her and be cruel. She did not deny herself to being a coward. She was that and more. She waited for him to bite back, but instead met with his hand on her chair. This surprised her. But before she could say anything, she was then met with his face. When he looked to her, his eyes were dogged, yet gentle as he stared into hers. Having him kneel so close made her face turn red.
“Yato-gami--?”
“You're not a coward, Bishamon.” He cut her off, and her face froze. “You are psycho bitch sure; crazy, stupid…but you're no coward.” He smirked. Bishamon could not understand.
“Hell, you ain't even weak. You can play the part all you want…but I’ll always see you as anything but.”
He eventually turned to the gardens, and saw both Yukine and Hiyori with the others.
“I know you're scared, and honestly, I’m scared too. I never dreamed that someone like me would ever have anything worth protecting. And just when I thought I never would, I had them.”
“They're everything I have and more. I would do anything to keep them safe. I might not be a martyr, but I still walk on glass each time we're together.”
He looked down at his boots.
“My point is, I understand you, or at least, I’m trying to. I'm scared of what might happen, but I can't let that stop me from what I want to do.”
“You’re a mother to your shinki. Fuck what four-eyes says about you not being able to love. You can, and you do. It's exactly why you can't give up.”
Bishamon’s eyes widened. She could not believe what she was hearing. Seldom were times Yato shared anything from the heart. Having witnessed it made her feel strange, yet warm. The noise the others made eventually reached a peak, to which Yato took queue and rose to his feet, and began leaving. She eyed him as he left, her heart feeling as though it were about to burst.
“Again about the payment, whatever you choose I leave it in your hands--,”
“Why did you do it?” Bishamon blurted. Yato stopped just before he reached the door.
“Kazuma begged you to save me…but you didn't have to. I didn't even know you. So tell me, why did you save me? I want to hear from your own mouth why….” Her voice quivered. Yato turned and faced her. He looked into her eyes one last time before he spoke.
“I already told you and him before. It was because I felt like it.”
Bishamon shook her head, but he did not stop there.
“...To have a shinki willing to sacrifice his name to god of calamity, all for his master’s life, must've been pretty damn noble.”
“I figured the god must've been something great…to have those who would so far for them.”
He said. Bishamon sat still. Her chest feeling both empty, yet relieved.
“Get better, psycho. Already, you don't look good playing the coward.” He smiled. Then he left.
She blamed the sun for it, but she could have sworn he appeared different.