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Yato was a human disaster.
He didn’t know how to post a letter, even with Yukine’s instructions: ‘Write the address and use stamps’.
A few days after breaking up for summer, a small envelope dropped through Hiyori’s front door covered in a hundred stamps. Inside was a child’s birthday invitation, but the word ‘birthday’ had been scribbled out and replaced with ‘sleepover’ in clunky letters with a few snowpuffs doodled here and there.
Yukine dragged a hand down his face when he received a confused text from Hiyori, replying to the invitation. Her parents would let her come, under the ruse that Aimi and Yama would also be there with parental supervision. Of course, there was none of that.
“How was I meant to know how many stamps to put on there?!” Yato argued.
A week later Yato used the mobile phone Hiyori had given Yukine the previous summer to call her. Unfortunately for Hiyori, Yato didn’t understand the concept of a phone call – he thought he had to shout for her to be able to hear him ‘from so far away’.
Hiyori winced and held the phone away from her face. Yato’s voice rattled through the speakers loud enough to understand what he was saying and hear Yukine berating him in the background.
“HIYORI!” Yato shouted, “CAN. YOU. HEAR. ME?”
Hiyori put the phone back to her ears, hoping that him hearing her speak normally would give him a lead to follow. “Yes Yato, I can hear you.”
He didn’t take the hint. “OH. KAY. GOOD.”
Hiyori held the phone at arm’s length as Yato spoke, smiling at her mother who looked at her peculiarly before her eyes fell on the screaming phone.
“I. WILL. PICK. YOU. UP. NEXT. FRIDAY. AT. TWELEVE. O. CLOCK. OH. KAY?”
“Ok,” Hiyori said, quickly ending the conversation before he could talk her ear off about how amazing mobile phones were, “I’ll see you soon, bye!”
On the Fourteenth of July at exactly 12 o’clock, there was a thunderous smash from the living room.
Hiyori, packed and ready to go in her bedroom, flew down the stairs to find her mother screaming and father holding a teapot as if it were a weapon. In the middle of the front room, dusting charcoal from his clothes, was Yato.
“I bet you weren’t expecting me to pop out of there like Santa,” Yato was saying, trying to make small talk, “although I’m sure Santa doesn’t always use Floo powder...”
At that moment Yato noticed Hiyori standing open-mouthed in the doorway. He raised his hand with a dopey smile. “Hi Hiyori!”
Hiyori gave him a faltering wave, looking at the soot he had rubbed into the carpet. Her mother would faint if she didn’t get him out of there soon, whilst her father had seemed to notice that a teapot was not a weapon and placed it back on the coffee table.
“I-I just need to… get my stuff,” Hiyori jabbed her thumb over her shoulder, “so, um, wait for me?”
Yato nodded, smile still plastered on his face as he turned back to Mr and Mrs Iki. “So you’re muggles?”
God help him, Hiyori prayed.
Hiyori raced upstairs, throwing her backpack over her shoulder and bundling a sleeping bag under her arm.
Yato had been escorted to the front door which was ajar as he waited for her. His interest had been taken by a small button on the doorframe which he pressed experimentally. A high-pitched ring sounded in the house, making Yato jump. He pushed it again. And again. And again.
“This is cool,” Yato said to Hiyori when she reached the bottom of the stairs.
Hiyori exchanged a look with her parents. Her mother hid behind her father with a disapproving look. Her father seemed amused at Yato’s interest.
Dear God help me.
“Take care, sweetheart,” Mr Iki said. Both parents stepped forward and kissed Hiyori on the cheek, saying their goodbyes.
Yato beamed at them. “I’ll take good care of your daughter!”
Hiyori waved, and with an urgency, pulled Yato out of the door.
~
Yukine met them at the sleepy train station that carved through the countryside to his village, walking with them to a small house which he called home. They weren’t too far from London by train, but far enough to be away from the hassle of city life. It proved that his mother’s vault in Gringotts had been able to give him a comfortable life, one that Yato envied.
The house was quaint, with a small front garden that had flowers growing out of broken terracotta pots and ivy weaving through every part of the fence that surrounded the house. Around the side Hiyori could see more greenery, almost as if Yukine was growing an entire garden centre in his back garden.
The interior consisted of basic furniture and pale, painted walls. A sofa and tv filled the front room backed onto a kitchenette that looked over the overrun garden. The bedroom was large enough for three or four people to squeeze into, plus Coo Phone who’s cage sat next to the window, and a small bathroom lay opposite. Hiyori gushed over how cute his house was, making Yukine blush and scratch his nose.
They ate, they lounged, they chatted. When evening sunk in, Yukine put on a DVD, telling Hiyori that Yato had never seen a TV before and spent the first week of summer staring at it like it was a new kind of magic. This also came with the fact that Yato had never seen any of the shows or films they knew, and Yukine had the arduous task of sitting through countless Disney films which Yato hummed the songs of the next day.
When night had fallen and it was time for bed, Yato looked around the bedroom with a conundrum.
“Where’s Hiyori going to sleep?” he asked.
There were no other rooms in the small house, and he had been sleeping on the floor all summer. It wouldn’t be proper to ask Hiyori to sleep on the lumpy sofa, and sharing a bed wasn’t exactly in the name of decency.
“We’ll just share the same room.”
Hiyori didn’t seem phased when Yukine said this, laying her sleeping bag on the floor.
Yato stared, and the memory of the Halloween sleepover in the Great Hall hit him – Hiyori’s warmth curled up next to him, face unbelievably close and her lips mummering softly about his smell.
Yato flushed and turned away, grabbing his own sleeping bag from the wardrobe. “Fine.”
They settled in for the night, switching off the pale lamplight and falling into a blanketed silence broken by the shuffling of blankets.
Yato lay awake with his hands folded over his stomach listening to their breathing, mainly Hiyori’s who lay a few feet. His eyes stayed fixed on the pale-yellow curtains which fluttered gently from the open window, part of the night sky flickering in and out of sight as moonlight seeped in and doused the room in a pale light.
Without realising, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
~
Morning flooded the room, the sun shining through the thin curtains and a periwinkle sky peeked out from their hem.
Yato woke to the sound of running water. He let out a grouse as he stretched, his back growing accustomed to the floor. He could tell his hair was sticking up in different angles as he rolled over onto his stomach, pushing himself up on his elbows and blinking slowly as the room came into focus. He turned his head, sleepiness immediately leaving as he saw Hiyori.
She was sitting up in her sleeping bag; eyes closed and arms stretched up and over her head, hair tangled and face sleepy.
Hiyori gave a gentle yawn before opening her eyes, finding Yato staring at her. She dropped her arms, propping herself up on the floor as she leaned back.
“Nice hair,” Hiyori gave him a sleepy smile.
Yato quickly buried his face in his pillow, muffling his voice. “Y-you too”.
He could feel his cheeks burn at her dry chuckle followed by the creak of an opening door open and Hiyori greeting Yukine.
“Want breakfast?” he asked the pair.
Hiyori hummed happily, shifting out of the nylon quilt and jumping up. She looked down at Yato when he didn’t move. “Yato?”
Yato raised a hand in answer, face still pressed into the pillow. “I’m coming.”
The soft pacing of bare feet and the click of the door latch told Yato he was alone. He turned his face to the side, fringe in his hair as he stared at the door.
What is wrong with me?
~
It took Yato a few days, but eventually he adjusted to seeing Hiyori first thing in the morning. Maybe this was because he had enough stolen glances to know what to expect, whether it was the way her hair tousled as she slept or her crumpled pyjamas and bleary eyes.
Yato was no better. His hair was like a bird nest every morning, growing thicker and longer and making it much too hot to sleep comfortably. In the end he would huff and roll over, shirt riding up his stomach as he slept. Although it cooled him down, the fact that he would wake up uncovered and bare for Hiyori and Yukine to giggle at was not the best way to wake up as he realised what state he had managed to get himself in.
Summer heat got to them all in the end, leaving them lounging in front of the small fan Yukine produced from the cupboard, or in the shady spots in the garden that crept away as the sun climbed higher.
Yukine opted for watering the flowers, letting the hose sprinkle his toes with cold water as he worked his way around the garden. Yato and Hiyori sat inside at the kitchen table, the remains of breakfast cluttered alongside newspapers and books.
Yato grumbled, sweeping his damp hair away from his nape for the twentieth time that morning. Hiyori watched, chewing on a piece of cold buttered toast as Yato muttered under his breath, squirming in the heat as he tried to read. He ran a hand through his hair again.
“Why don’t you just tie your hair up?” Hiyori asked. She dangled the piece of toast from her thumb and forefinger, chin resting on the curve of her wrist as she watched Yato.
“Eh?” he said.
“You know, like a ponytail,” Hiyori watched Yato’s confused expression shift. Without saying anything, she removed one of the multicoloured hairbands from her wrist and threw it onto the book in front of him.
Yato picked it up uncertainly. He shrugged, dropping it again and used both hands to scrape his hair into a rather messy ponytail. He pulled the hairband around the tangle of hair with as much grace as an elephant before he let go. Half of his hair fell out whilst the rest remained in a low, lopsided ponytail which resembled a pinecone.
Hiyori bit back a smile and dropped her toast. “Let me.”
Hiyori walked around the table and stood behind Yato, gently working the hairband out of his hair and held it in-between her lips. She ran her fingers through his hair, working the small tangles out until it was smooth. She brought the tips of her fingers to his ears, carefully pulling his hair back until she held it in a ponytail, collecting the loose strands in gentle sweeps which left the nape of Yato’s neck bare.
Hiyori’s eyebrows knitted slightly as she took the hairband from her mouth, quickly wrapping it around the base of the ponytail.
“Owww!” Yato whined, his head jerk back slightly as Hiyori secured the ponytail with a tug. He reached his hand up and patted the stub of hair.
Hiyori stepped in front of him and tilted her head to the side, scrutinising her work. Yato had begun to fiddle with the band in an attempt to loosen it, oblivious to Hiyori staring at him.
His hair looks nice when its tied up, Hiyori thought, I can see his face better now…
Yato paused, glancing up at her with arms still stretched over his head, an inquisitive look in his eyes. “Something wrong?”
Hiyori quickly turned away, breaking the eye contact before she lost her composure. Were his eyes always that blue?
“N-nothing’s wrong,” she said, forcing a causal tone, “that should do it.”
At that moment Yukine walked back in. he looked at Yato’s hair and smirked. “Want a bow on that?”
“You’re just jealous I can put my hair up and you can’t,” Ytao shot back.
“I believe Hiyori put your hair up”, he said, and after a pause of noticing Hiyori’s panicked look, he added, “I was watching.”
He hid a smile and pretended not to notice Hiyori’s cheeks go pink as she turned away, or hear Yato grumble about he was a stalker. This was going to be a long summer.
~
Unable to use magic to entertain themselves, the trio resorted to other activities. Yukine would lounge and read quietly, Yato would lie in the sun, and Hiyori would make daisy chains.
This seemed to fascinate Yato as he watched he watched her fingers carefully split the daisy stems and thread them together until she had a short chain. After watching her for an hour, Yato her to teach them.
Yukine had since closed his book to lie on his stomach, arms crossed as a make-shift pillow as he watched and decided to join in.
The tip of their tongue’s peeking out as they both plucked daises and tried to copy Hiyori’s example, but their fingers were too fat and nails to short for either of the boys to successfully dissect the delicate stems and lace them together.
Before long Hiyori held up a dainty crown of flowers in between her fingers. Yato and Yukine peered at the white petals before Hiyori placed it on Yukine’s head. He blushed and ducked his head back to his own dismembered daisy chain but didn’t shake off the crown.
Eventually Yato gave up, daisy heads falling into the long blades of grass in defeat. Yukine’s daisy chain wasn’t a total disaster – Hiyori had seen to that with nimble fingers to salvage what was left. A few daisies had lost their petals in the process, but still Hiyori smiled when Yukine wrapped the frail bracelet around her wrist.
They sat in the quiet sunny afternoon, gazing up at the sky through the branches of the tree which had become a favourite spot for the trio to lie in during the midday heat.
“You’ve got a tan.”
Hiyori looked down at her legs at Yukine’s comment, stretching them out to compare against his, and then Yato’s. She hummed, tilting her head to the side to look at Yukine’s face, flower crown still plopped on his head. He gave her a smile. The sun had made his freckles much darker as they contrasted against fair hair and green eyes.
“Want a drink?” he asked.
“Yes please,” Hiyori said. Yato chimed in with a ‘thank you’ as Yukine walked away, waving his hand without turning in an I’m-getting-you-one-too-you-idiot kind of way.
Yato flopped back in the grass, eyes closed and arms tucked under his head. Hiyori smiled at him.
Yato’s tan, on the other hand, brought out sparser freckles that littered the bridge of his nose. Hiyori wondered how she’d never noticed them before, albeit they were so faint that she had to lean and focus on his face in the wavering shadow of the tree.
Hiyori stared at his complexion for a moment, heart thumping. Even though they had shared a room – and slept next to each other – for nearly a week, seeing Yato doze so peacefully in the middle of the day was… different.
Yato cracked open an eye. Hiyori jumped.
“Enjoying the view?” Yato asked.
Hiyori flushed, staggering to her feet. “W-what view?”
Yato propped himself up on his elbows with a dopey grin, one which seemed to find its way onto his face whenever he teased Hiyori. He didn’t answer – Hiyori’s burning cheeks were a statement enough as she quickly walked back into the kitchen ‘to help Yukine with the drinks’.
They returned some time later, Hiyori more composed that when she left. Yato pushed himself up and took the drink she offered him, gulping half of it in one mouthful. Yukine and Hiyori sat down beside him
“Hey, Yato?” Yukine said.
“Mm?”
“You’re sixteen now, right?”
“Yes…” Yato said slowly. His birthday must had passed by now. Sure, students get their acceptance letter from Hogwarts on their birthday, but Yato didn’t find his until he came across it whilst snooping. It was like a golden ticket out of there. Still, why did his age it matter?
“We want to celebrate your birthday,” Yukine said. Before Yato could point out he didn’t know his birthday, Hiyori continued.
“We can make a birthday for you, so you have a day to celebrate it.”
Hiyori looked pleased with the idea, even if Yato wasn’t sure. A birthday that wasn’t even his, but the hopeful look he saw on their faces told him that this was important to them. They could celebrate theirs, but Yato couldn’t celebrate his.
Yato slipped into a small smile. “When?”
Hiyori and Yukine looked at each other with a smile before looking back at Yato, saying one word simultaneously. “Tomorrow.”
“What do you wanna do?” Hiyori asked. She leaned forward like this was the most important question she had ever asked, and Yato drew in a sharp, quiet breath at the motion. He supposed it was an important question. Hiyori was insistent on celebrating his birthday, going as far to give him one.
Yato’s eyes drifted across the garden as he thought, taking in the bright marigolds and leafy plants. Yukine who lay splayed out on the grass, chin in hands as he waited for an answer, and Yato’s eyes flicked to Hiyori’s intent face.
What did he want to do? He was happy like this, with them.
Yato’s mouth curved into a smile. “Let’s go out.”
~
Yato’s honorary birthday was August 8th. When he said he wanted to go ‘out’, they didn’t think he would mean London – particularly, Diagon Alley. This was partly for him and Yukine to get next years equipment, whereas Hiyori would do that with her parents when she returned home, and to spend the day out.
They popped into various shops, collecting books which weighed down their bags as they trundled around the narrow shopping area, weaving between the brightly coloured vending stalls which offered an array of food and trinkets.
They spent far too long in Sugarplums Sweets Shop testing out the various flavours of bubble-gum, laughing at each other as a particular variety would change the chewers hair to the colour they had. Yukine’s hair turned as green as his eyes, whilst Yato’s turned pink (much to his embarrassment), and Hiyori’s turned deep red.
The effects wore off by the time they mooched over to Quality Quidditch Supplies. The display window was draped in red velvet, a broom placed on a podium which a group of small boys stood admiring before scampering away as the trio approached.
Hiyori leaned to read the cursive writing which proclaimed that the broom was the Firebolt – brand new and made from carved ebony wood and hazel twigs, fitted with silver fissures and wide stirrups.
Hiyori sighed. “I wish I could have this one.”
Yato gazed at the Firebolt. He had no broom now – the Whomping Willow had seen to that – and Yato could feel his fingers twitching at his coin pouch.
Yukine didn’t miss the woeful look on Yato’s face as he nudged his shoulder. “You should get it.”
Yato looked down at him in surprise. Yukine nodded at the broom.
“How’s the ‘Slytherin Superstar’ meant to win a game if he only has a poxy school broom from the Dark Ages?”
Yato’s face split into a grin. He had a point.
Five minutes later Yato was walking out of the shop, his own Firebolt wrapped carefully in parcel paper and held carefully in his arms. Hiyori pulled the edge of the paper back, looking at the shining ebony wood and sighing.
“It’s so pretty,” Hiyori fussed. Yato’s smile turned dopey at her praise, even if it were for the broom and not him.
“I can take you for a ride sometime,” Yato said before realising what he was insinuating.
He didn’t realise what he meant before he had said it, and the realisation of what he was insinuating hit him like a train.
Him. Her. Together. It would be like riding Buckbeak all over again; arms wound tightly around his waist and chest warm against his back. The very thought made Yato lose his cool.
Yato flushed, stuttering and falling over his words to correct himself, “I-I mean, you can try it, sometime, whenever…”
Hiyori looked up at him, eyes shining and breathing in a ‘thank you’, making Yato turn a startling shade of red as he got hot under the collar.
What is wrong with me?
“Anyone want ice cream?” he said, voice strangled.
Yukine and Hiyori nodded, turning heel down the cobble street to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.
Though there was not much space, the trio sandwiched themselves on a table under the pink awning of the shop. Yukine sat in between Yato and Hiyori, dumping his bag alongside Yato’s broom which he had propped up against the window.
A bubbly witch took their order – which, with the few Sickles they had left, – resulted in one dish of Neapolitan ice cream (with two spoons) and a milk lolly for Yukine.
The waitress winked at Yato as she set down the dish and handed Yukine his lolly. Yato blinked and hook his head, casting the wink away as he looked at the dish ravenously. Two spoons stuck out on either side of the ice cream dish which had already started to melt, prompting both Yato and Hiyori to start eating before it turned into a sweet soup.
Hiyori tried to ignore the messy way Yato was eating, half-smiling as she caught signs of chocolate around his mouth which Yukine loudly pointed out. Once the ice cream was demolished and the crowds began dwindling, Yato suggested they go home.
They received a few strange looks on the train home as Yato cradled the broom in the crook of his arm, nearly taking out a few eyes as he, Yukine and Hiyori disembarked at Yukine’s village.
The early evening brought a hazy sunset which turned the sky from a soft orange to pink streaked with indigo, giving a soft, picturesque look to the house as they padded into the kitchen and ditched their bags.
Yukine stretched loudly and began rummaging through the cupboards on his toes. After a few seconds he produced a bag of marshmallows and a wheedling grin.
Hiyori grabbed the blanket and Yato grabbed the pillows as they headed out into the garden, throwing them down against the tree. Yato, shushing them quietly, produced his wand from his pocket. With a flick of his wrist a small fire burst into life, fed only by itself. Hiyori gently lectured him about underage magic, but Yato dismissed it. No one would know.
Yukine snapped off some of the bamboo sticks which trained his roses, handing them around as makeshift skewers before he tore open the marshmallows and jammed five on to his stick. They sat with their knees drawn to their chests, holding their marshmallows over the fire until they were dripping and slightly burnt before they ate them, hot but sweet and sticky.
“Thank you,” Yato said, “for all of this…”
Both Hiyori and Yukine smiled in answer.
Yukine stuck the skewers into the soil so they wouldn’t have to sit upright to roast the marshmallows. Yato leaned against the tree trunk, Hiyori by his side and Yukine rostering the marshmallows every now and then before he settled back on the blanket, arms tucked behind his head.
Yato looked up at the sky, and quietly, he closed his eyes.
~
Yato opened his eyes. The bright light in front of him came into focus, and he realised his fire was still burning with the marshmallows burnt to a crisp. His neck felt stiff and there was a heavy weight on his shoulder. He looked around, finding Yukine curled up on the blanket asleep, gentle snores filling the air.
Yato gave Hiyori a sideways glance, finding that the weight he felt was her head which had dropped onto his shoulder as she tried – and failed – to fight off sleep. The fire cast flickering shadows over her calm face, unstirred as he moved his shoulder slightly.
“Hiyori?” Yato said softly. He tapped her hand which rested on her knee.
“Mmm?”
It wasn’t answer, she was far to tired for that, but she was just about conscious to hear Yato whisper to her and sigh in response to her name.
“We should go back inside,” he said.
Hiyori shook her head slightly, cheek scratching against Yato’s short sleeve. A few seconds passed.
“Hiyori?”
“I like it here…” Hiyori’s vice was thick with sleep, barely managing to keep her sentence from slurring.
Yato’s expression softened, watching her fall silent. After a moment she was still once more, breathing even and weight leaning on his shoulder dependently. There was no chance of waking her, or Yukine, up.
Yato closed his eye and listened to the fire crackle and, eventually, he fell asleep too.