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Hand gripping the front of Yato’s ratty and ripped T-shirt and face bright red from drinking, the surrounding crowd of cherry blossom viewers all saw as the anger melted out of Bishamon’s face and her grip loosened as she bent forward in shame.
“No… it wasn’t you who killed Touma…” her tone was suddenly defeated where it once was rough and full of anger. And as the group looked on in silence they also saw the confusion on Yato’s flushed face.
“Hahh?” Yato responded teetering slightly in her lessened grip. They were both wasted, that’s for sure. But unlike everyone was coming to expect, their competitive drinking hasn’t ended in their typical fighting, but rather… whatever this is.
“Always… I’ve always hated you,” her words were harsh and despite the visible drunken haze, Hiyori couldn’t help but notice the poorly suppressed flinch Yato had at Bishamon’s words. But at her following admission she saw that flinch dissolve into an awed confusion.
“You saved me and now I hate myself for that too,” she was still gripping him by the shirt but she was practically bent in half and despite that the surrounding group could clearly see the tears forming in her glazed eyes.
“And then, I was saved a second time,” The tears dripping down onto the grass and roots of the cherry tree would be almost beautiful if her words weren’t so sad, “The Ha clan was obliterated just like the Ma clan. None of it was your fault,” her voice continued to waver as she got more choked up in her admission of guilt, “...everything… everything was my fault.” As she cried the surrounding party had gone silent, with only the gentle wind carrying the blossoms daring to break that profound silence surrounding her sobs.
Yato was never one to follow the crowd and it didn’t surprise the surrounding parties that his voice was the one to break the awkward pause, but his words and tone were certainly a surprise. Where he would normally make an inappropriate joke or brush off her feelings by acting like an ass, maybe even start a fight just so he didn’t have to truly face the situation, he instead closed his eyes and slid out of her grip and down the trunk of the tree.
“I…it… I didn’t want to. I swear Bisha... I never wanted to… to k-kill anyone… but father…” he trailed off into a hiccup, his head lolling to the side as his eyes opened once more. Although his face was in clear view, the look on it was indescribable and his eyes, despite the alcohol, were deep with emotion as he looked past the group into a memory unknown to all but him.
“He always said I was only good for killing. And I never knew I could help… help without hurting anyone…” those focused on Yato’s face drew back in surprise as uncharacteristically sincere tears began to form in the corners of his distant gaze.
“I thought that at least if it was me… if I was the one to do it... at least… no one else would have to suffer,” he hiccuped again but continued speaking as though he wasn’t aware he was voicing his thoughts at all, “An’ father would say that if I kept my head down an’ did good... if I didn’t talk back… then he would,” another hiccup, “...he would let me… let me choose my own path instead of following his orders all th’ time…” a floppy arm came up to rub at his face as more tears began to stream down his bright red cheeks.
Another hiccup but this one sounded more like a sob than just a hiccup from all the sake the two gods of war had been guzzling mere seconds ago, “but it was always a lie… he never let me do anything I wanted… all he ever made me do was k-kill people. An’ I guess… I guess even after I ran, I thought that if that’s all I was good for… at least I could do it so no one else-…” he interrupted himself with a choked off sound that could’ve been just a hiccup if not for the quiet whine and desperate scrubbing at his face with his arm, “ An’ then you wouldn’t have ta hurt like me…” an unexpected full sob broke through his slurred torrent of emotional words. But it was like once he had started he couldn’t stop.
“I just wanted anyone to look at me and tell me I was doing okay… that I wasn’t a-*hic*- a useless burden like he said… I… I just wanted to h-help! I swear… I swear that I only wanted to help… but father was right ‘nd I just end up hurting everyone I touch…” his arm dropped from his face but his eyes were squeezed shut as if in a frivolous attempt to stop the flow of tears. His hiccups, and occasional choked off sobs continued despite his clumsy attempts to suppress them.
“I swear I didn’t choose this! I swear that even if Hiir-...N-Nora says that I’m bad for disagreein’ with him… I still think he’s wrong about me. I-I can help even withou’ all the k-killin’ and the screamin’ and the blood and t-the gu-guilt an’ and an’...” his rushed words ended in yet another hiccup and afterwards he just sighed and sank further down the trunk of the tree, head tilted back looking up at the blossoms.
“Big sis’ Nora says tha’ my feelin’s are irre…” he struggles with the word for a minute before slurring out, “irrelevant… an’ I know that father’s wishes are more important than my feelin’s... but… still I just… I dont want to be a god of d-depression an’,” another barely suppressed sob, “and d-depravity anymore. If...if I really have to be like that… I think I just wan’ to be forgotten an’ finally disappear…” Hiiyori and Yukine shared an alarmed glance before their attention was stolen again by the sad pile of a god that was seemingly unknowingly spilling his guts as his crowd of fellow gods and spirits stood frozen in shocked silence.
“I know that Ebisu,” his voice cracked on the name, “said that I c-could be a god that made others happy, but I couldn’t even save him in the end.” Fingers digging into his hair and tugging out of desperation caused Hiiyori and Yukine to begin to rush forwards, but Kazuma stopped them with an arm blocking both the kids’ paths as they shared an intense moment of eye contact before eventually backing down.
“And father didn’t care that I got Ebisu out of the underworld like he asked… I told him that he would just reincarnate like Ebisu wanted in the first place, but he just... p-punished me for my failure… and I… I wish I hadn’ gotten Sakura killed like the depraved idiot I am. No one else ever stood up to father when he’s mad like that… not even me when I… when I r-ran. I’m too s-scared of bein’ forgotten an’… I don’t know anymore… I don’t think even father ever recognized me as anything but a tool. I don’t think I was ever really worth anything more than that... but is it really so selfish to wish for more… for an actual shrine where I’m not just a parasite leeching off of it’s real owner, an’ people who… who want me… people who don’t leave... “ at that some noticed Mayu flinch in guilt, “a place where I’m not forced to k-kill anymore an’ I can…” his hands dropped lifelessly from his hair and his eyes stared, with an expression devoid of emotion despite the tears running down his cheeks, at his trembling palms on his lap.
“Somewhere that I can be the Yato God… and not… not… Ya-Yaboku,” his voice shook with uncharacteristic fragility as he spoke his true name, and no one dared to interrupt the fragile silence that took over the clearing once again.
“You’re not just a tool Yato,” Bishamon of all people spoke up, tears streaks drying on her cheeks, “I’m sorry for how I treated you all these years… even when I knew somewhere inside that it was never your fault. None of us can choose the wish from which we are born but… that doesn’t mean we aren’t capable of change!” her voice once again raised with its usual fire but for once it wasn’t at the expense of Yato but instead in sympathy for him.
“Because of you… I was strong enough to do what I needed to when my precious shinki were all,” she shook her head violently and despite the dizzy expression on her still flushed cheeks when she stopped, her gaze steeled and she stared intensely into Yato’s tear filled eyes. “Thank you, Yato-san. Thank you for helping me and Kazuma when we couldn’t help ourselves. Thank you for being strong enough to be better than the wishes you were made from. And thank you for never casting true judgment on me despite all these years… when you told me that despite everything you believed all I had done was right and just… I couldn’t help but be impressed by you Yato.” And she watched intently as his eyes widened with her words. He raised a shaky hand to scrub at his cheek once more but when he opened his mouth his tone was no longer so sad and devoid of hope.
“You… You’re thanking me? But I-”
“No. Yato, I said it before you told us you felt that way but I will say it once again, It was never your fault. It was not your mistake to fix but you selflessly helped without a question asked time and time again. And I am truly sorry that I projected my self hatred onto you so unfairly and for so long.” Her tone was firm but the look in her eyes as she shared an inebriated feelings dump with Yato was incredibly soft, and not unlike the look she often gave her youngest shinki’s when she thought Kazuma wasn’t looking.
“I never knew you were originally made to be a god of depression and depravity Yato, but there is no way my Yatty-chan is like that anymore!” Kofuku finally broke the surrounding party’s stunned silence with her declaration.
“No way, no way, no way!” she was flailing her arms up and down as her pink curls bounced dramatically. Eventually Daikouku picked up his drunken owner by the armpits as her arms continued to swing.
“She’s right you know,” his expression was sincere even as he had to glance away as his face heated up with his following words, “I know that I give you a lot of shit Yato-san, but it’s only because I know how much Kofuku-sama cares for you. I wouldn’t keep you around if I actually thought you were a bad influence on her… in fact you only seem to make her happy, even when I can’t. And for that, I am grateful.” His stony expression returned despite the blush still dusting his stubbled face and his tone gained it’s typical sharpness as he shoved a calming Kufuku under his right arm and pointed dramatically at Yato’s shocked face.
“But that still doesn’t mean you can put your grubby little hands on my kufuku-sama, okay punk?” and he waved his finger slightly as he added a brief, “And stop telling people she’s your girlfriend, you weirdo!” With a final huff he sat down once again on the almost entirely forgotten picnic blanket and set Kufuku down lightly besides him.
The rest of the still standing group finally seemed to break out of their frozen state and began to relax once more the second Kufuku started her brief tantrum. And as everyone sat down once more, albeit still mostly in a shocked silence, they attempted not to focus too hard on the shrinking form of an embarrassed Yato, who was now realizing how much attention was on him in the first place. All except the delivery god’s two closest companions who came right up to the base of the cherry tree where the two rival gods still sat slumped, and began to pester him with concerned questions.
“Yato! You don’t really think you’re useless right? I don’t know what I would do without you, Yato please don’t disappear,” a teary Yukine began while grabbing at Yato’s limp hand and holding it tightly to his chest as though he would suddenly vanish without his grip.
“Yato… your father,” Hiyori began with a surprisingly hardened voice that the surrounding party tensed in response to, “he sounds like an awful man.” And despite all that Yato had spilled about him he looked only fearful and desperate at her words.
“No! No, he’s… it’s just what he thought was best for me and who am I to say-” he was interrupted by a slightly angrier Hiyori.
“Yato! You are your own person! And your father is a terrible man for making you feel like you aren’t worth more than a tool. How would you feel if someone said that about Yukine-kun!” And at the expression on his face as he reared back Hiyori knew that he clearly valued those around him much more than he always let on.
“Y-Yukine is so much more than that! I don’t know where I would be without-”
“Exactly Yato! That’s how we feel about you too! And I won’t stand for you or anyone else saying such awful things about my Yato god…” Hiyori sniffled loudly as she tried to stop the tears she could feel forming in the corners of her eyes.
“Yato I promise you won’t ever have to be afraid of disappearing again as long as you have me to believe in you! And I hope we can teach you that it’s not selfish to have self respect! It’s not selfish to want more for yourself if you’re being mistreated! And don’t even start trying to argue because even from the tiny amount you have shared I can tell how poorly you were treated… and for so long too… oh Yato,” her voice broke as she dived in to wrap the god in a crushing hug and she buried her face into his shoulder to hide her tears even as she continued speaking to him.
“We want you Yato. You do have a place to be, with us you’ll always have a place to be, okay?” and at her words the shaking arms hovering in shock above her back finally wrapped weakly around her in response. He buried his face in her hair and she could feel the tears begin to dampen her head as he shook and shivered in place.
“Sakura… said the same thing to me. Before my mistakes turned her into a monster that I was forced to kill. Hiyori… even if I want that to be true,” his voice shook even harder than him and despite that he continued, “even if I want that to be true I know the longer all of you stay the more likely it is that I’ll end up having to be the one to-” he broke off his train of thought as his breathing rate increased rapidly. Hiyori had to push him backwards out of her hug but with her hands remaining tightly gripped around his arms and his hyperventilating only worsened.
“Hey! Hey, that’s… Yato I don’t know what happened before, and I can tell how much it hurt you,” he choked on another gasping breath, “but it won't happen again, not with all of the new friends you’ve made here to help. But you have to tell us the truth, you can’t keep hiding everything until you can’t handle it anymore. Yato I didn’t know that your father was the one to make you go into the underworld but if you had asked us we would have helped you! I know anyone here would have at least tried to help!” She shook him slightly as his breathing became less erratic.
“You’re wrong. I couldn’t ask for help,” he said suddenly, shocking her into letting go of his arms. And his own snaked up to replace her grip as he hugged himself tightly around his chest and drew his knees up in front of him.
“Father would p-punish me if I tried.” His voice was so certain as he said it that Hiyori didn’t know how to respond and as she attempted to gather her thoughts someone else spoke up instead.
“Young one, I know we have had our disagreements in the past, but I was never aware that you were in such a dire position,” Tenjin’s gentle voice added in a strong contrast to all of the emotional words spoken in the past few minutes, “if you tell us more about the situation with your… father… we can help you to truly escape this position you seem to be in,” he cleared his throat unnecessarily before continuing with a slightly more regretful tone.
“I was once a very different man. A spirit with no sympathy for humans. If I can change so drastically into the god I am all these centuries later, I have no doubts that you are far more than capable of change.” His words and his expression were calm and collected as he moved to sit closer to the cherry tree. His followers instead moved further away to give their owner space, except for Mayu who chose to sit directly next to the older god and even decided to add her own thoughts to the mix as well.
“I am sorry for being so harsh to you when we worked together, Yato. I know that you were trying to make sure I was well cared for even as you lacked the ability to do so. I am truly sorry for how much I blamed you for the position we were in. I regret the way I ended our time together, and I never should have been so cruel when I made you return my name… I’m sorry. Tomone was a lovely name. I’m glad you once gave it to me even if I am happy with my current one. I hope you can one day forgive me.” she bowed her head slightly and when she looked back up she was once again shocked by the expression she saw in the younger god’s face.
“Tomone… no... Mayu. I never blamed you for any of that. You’re not the first of my shinki to want to leave, and I never blamed them either. I put you in that position, and it’s not fair of me to be the one upset when you left it. You don’t need my forgiveness… what you need is a competent god who could treat you better and accommodate you in a way I never could. I don’t know why my current shinki feels differently but I was never truly upset with you, Mayu. As much as I couldn’t admit it at the time… when Yukine decided to stay with me after being given an offer of a position similar to the one you have found yourself. I was so happy… but I was also so scared.” He shrunk slightly as his breaths once more increased in frequency.
“I never truly wished for you to want to stay. I’m sorry... I think I was too afraid that if any shinki stayed with me for too long I would have to… have to-” his breath shuddered and his gaze drifted away from Mayu and once again into distant memory.
“Yato…” Hiyori scooted closer to him to be side-by-side with the trembling god, “I don’t know who Sakura was,” at the name Yato flinched violently and let go of the grip he had around his arms to wrapped them tightly around his now drawn in knees instead, “but whatever happened there… I can tell it wasn’t your fault.” she concluded firmly, and leaned into his side while wrapping one arm around his shoulders.
“It was.” His voice was so quiet around his heaving breaths that Hiyori wasn’t sure if she would be able to hear it if she wasn’t so close.
But he continued, “It was my fault Hiyori. It was. It w-was. I know it was my fault and I never should have told her the truth.” His eyes once more filled with tears and he buried his face into his knees in shame.
“It was my fault and I killed her. I told her the truth when I knew I wasn't suppose’ ta and it got her killed. Ya know, I once used her to kill someone? She hated me for it. She taught me the truth about humans. That they’re more than targets to be killed. She showed me everything beautiful about the world I once thought was just dark and full of misery. She gave me,” his voice rasped and he sobbed harder than ever as he lifted his face and looked at Hiyori’s worried face.
“She gave me the name Yato. She was the only one then who thought I could be different, that I could be anything other than… than…” he trailed off before sobbing again and adding,“And then I had to kill her. She was wrong about me,” his voice grew quiet and his breathing fast and shallow. His expression was painful to look at and held so much grief that it shocked Yukine out of his shocked stupor.
“Yato! I don’t care what anyone else calls you and I don’t care who gave you your name because that’s always gonna be your name to me! And whoever she was, she was right! You’re so much more than whatever you had to do, you saved me Yato, you saved Hiyori, and you even saved Bishamon when you knew she wanted you dead!” His expression grew angry as he said, “Whoever this ‘father’ guy is, I’m gonna make sure he regrets making you think this way Yato.” And his rage quickly shifted to regret as the righteous anger and bloodlust he felt only caused Yato to wince in pain and rub at his neck.
“Shit, Yato I’m sorry!” Yukine dropped to his knees on the side of Yato that wasn’t being clung to by Hiyori, “Did I blight you! Oh fuck, I didn’t mean to-” his worried rant was cut off by Yato’s hand waving in front of his face.
“Ma~ Ma~ it’s fine Yukine, really! If you did I can just visit the temple or a spring and wash it off. It's not like you committed a real sin, it’s no big deal.” His grin was shaky and unconvincing even as he continued, “Honestly, Yukine, I appreciate you feeling this strongly about it at all. You really do care~!” He teased, even as his words held far too much emotion and shook a bit too much to really be a joke.
“Jeez… you’re such an idiot Yato! Of course I care!” With a dramatic harumph, Yukine melted out of his still position and into Yato’s unoccupied shoulder, wrapping his arm over Hiyori’s and holding tightly onto Yato’s lower abdomen in one of the only open spots where Hiyori wasn’t currently draped.
“Did she really give you your new name Yato?” Hiyori’s voice once again gentle and soft returned to seek more answers from the usually tight lipped god.
“I never knew why you wouldn’t tell us your real name, but if you don’t like it then I think the name she gave you suits you quite well.” Her smile was so sweet and genuine that everyone who could see it, even Bishamon and some of the more hard-hearted members of the group, had to smile in response.
“Yeah,” came the uncharacteristically soft response, “she did. I never would have known there was a path apart from the one f-father set out for me if it wasn’t for her giving me a new name… a new purpose… to be honest I took one look at this cherry blossom tree and I already wanted to cry.” his self-deprecating chuckle just made Kofuku reach out and take the hand that had fallen back to his knee and squeeze. He didn’t even shift his gaze and barely seemed to notice the new addition to the third person to cling tightly to him in the last few moments.
“I met her under a tree just like this and that’s why I decided to name her Sakura,” he laughed again even through the tears, “I don’t know why Nora and fath-.. I don't know why I was told to tell her about her past as a human… before she died...but it destroyed her.” If the shocked noises from the other gods meant anything then they seemed to already begin to understand what had happened. Hiyori and Yukine just made eye contact again over Yato’s bowed head and shared a nod to ask the other god’s more about this later.
“She remembered how she died, and it made her resent those who ended her life so soon after it had been created. Everything inside me was screaming to not tell her but I was so afraid of going against his wishes that I did it anyways. And it killed her. I killed her. I was dying from the blight… and I knew she was already gone… just an murderous ayakashi with the face of a girl I once l-loved…” he breathed in deeply and letting out a shaky sigh before ending his recounting of events, “I used Hiiro to kill her. Honestly that might have been why Hiirio-Nēchan would want me to tell Saku-” his voice broke but he quickly started again, “...tell her about her past. Other than how much Hiiro- uh wait no,” he shook his head, “I took back her name. So it’s just Nora-Nēchan again. She hated that I didn’t want to use her to kill anymore because of S-Sakura. Maybe she was the one to ask father to make me…” he trailed off again. And his knees came down from in front of him and into a crossed position so he could reach forwards out of his companions' grips and towards an unopened sake bottle left abandoned after the drinking grinded to a halt. When he sat back with the bottle in hand, the grips of his friends returned stronger than before and squeezed him close once again.
“Hey are you sure that that’s a good idea Yato-san?” Kazuma piped up after a long time of just sitting and listening. His voice wavered slightly in a way very unlike the typically confident blessed regalia. His position at Bishamonten’s side was unwavering even as he reached slightly towards the god he always considered his savior, and secretly wished would succeed. At this point Kuraha had long since led the younger or less familiar shinki away in his lion form and was continuing to entertain the kids further down the grassy hill and out of earshot as the older shinki giggled nearby at their playing. Of Bishamon’s followers, only Kazuma and Kinuha stayed. And although Kazuma could tell Kinuha wanted to reach out to the depressed god in front of them and apologize for all the times her whip form had been the weapon to cause him pain, she held back and let those Yato was more comfortable with do all the talking, even as her expression showed her worry and regret.
“We always watched the cherry blossoms bloom together, Kazuma. An’ I think that if I continue to sober up like I can tell I already am… I just don’t want to think about her anymore, okay? Can we just… can we just go back to pretending I’m some useless delivery god and move on?” Despite his plea to return to normalcy, his voice was fragile and unlike the goofy front he always had that those around him were so used to. And as Yato started to drink from the almost comically large sake bottle all Kazuma could do was drop his hand back into his lap and share a knowing look with Daikouku about the drinking. It wasn’t exactly a healthy coping mechanism but Kazuma supposed to himself that it makes more sense now why Yato seemed to get even more wasted than usual during their first ever party for the viewing of Suzuha’s tree. In hindsight it seemed to have a lot less to do with his competition with Veena than the cherry blossom shaped earring had previously believed.
Bottle long since finished and new one in hand, Yato hiccuped again before looking up directly at Kazuma and startling the regalia with his sharp gaze.
“I don’ care if you think it's a bad idea Kazuma I refuse to not be drunk right now. I can’t believe I let all my stupid baggage ruin Yukine an’ Hiyori’s party. I feel enough guilt as it is…” he trailed off before returning to his drinking even as he visibly teetered.
Yukine, and he’s sure a couple others older and more experienced with alcohol than himself, is beginning to suspect that Yato wasn’t really ever sobering up at all. If his slurred speech got harder to hear it was probably from the tears and quiet volume rather than any actual change in sobriety. The youngest blessed regalia is almost certain that if Yato was sober he probably wouldn’t have told them about this girl Sakura… and he can contemplate the morals of learning all this from his very inebriated master when said master isn’t worrying him so much with every new thing he learns.
“You didn’t ruin anything, Yato,” Hiyori chastises before Yukine gets the chance.
“Yeah! And even if you did we don’t mind! You’re allowed to make mistakes Yato… you always say that to me when I mess up. Even when I hurt you with the blight I caused… Yato you never even got mad at me or said anything other than to reassure me! I didn’t even know how much I was hurting you until you almost died!” His voice raised as he remembered the dire situation they had been in not too long ago, but he just squeezed his master tighter and nodded firmly.
“Yato you’re already a good person. I know you are even if you don’t. You act so aloof… like nothing ever bothers you! And yet, when it really matters… you’re one of the nicest people I’ve ever known.” even as his face began to flush Yukine willed his voice to remain as steady and genuine as he felt on the matter.
“Yato if you really want to know why I didn’t want to leave when I was offered all that money and recognition… it’s because that’s not what I really wanted at all. I’ve only ever wanted someone to value me for myself and not what I can do for them. And even when I would tease you or get mad and say I would never let you use me as a blade again… you would always just smile and say that you hoped I would stick around anyways. At first I thought you just wanted a weapon but… Yato you’ve already done so much more for me than anyone ever has other than maybe Hiyori-chan… but I never would have been able to live this long in the afterlife let alone meet her if it wasn’t for you.” He stared into his master’s still watery and wide blue eyes and saw through the glaze into the shock and hope that stared back at him.
“Yato I never want to be anyone’s shinki but you! I thought that much was obvious when I became your blessed regalia but… I’ll remind you as many times as it takes!” His words were shaky and embarrassed but no less honest for all the hesitation, seemingly more so in Yato’s eyes.
The god previously known as just a cause of calamity can certainly understand the hesitation behind speaking of your true feelings, but just as he knows this he also knows it doesn't make your feelings any less true because you were scared to say them. And at this revelation of how Yukine, his very first blessed regalia, was also the first shinki to truly want to be by his side, his eyes once more betrayed him and filled with tears and emotion much stronger than the god was comfortable with letting show. And despite his pleas to his eyes to stop with their waterworks, big fat tears rolled down from his bright blue eyes and onto his favorite scarf. He had never cried real tears in front of anyone other than the time when Hiyori had given him his first shrine, and even then he was quick to shift the attention off him and onto the shrine itself and how much time Hiyori had spent on it. Here and now under this blossoming cherry tree, he had no such luck in shifting the attention away from himself and felt heavy and confused under all the attention he usually so deeply craved.
“You… want me…” his voice was still shaky but filled more with an intense awe and disbelief where the previous grief and sadness had taken hold. “You.. really want me?” It came out as more of a question than intended but no one felt the need to respond when a grin stretched across his still tear coated face and the familiarity of his real goofy smile had a lot of the tension leaking out of the group where many hadn’t ever truly noticed it take hold. None of them had ever seen this side of the young god but it certainly made sense that there was so much more behind his goofy smile than just his claims of his own selfish greed and supposed longing for fame. Those seemed at first to most of those who heard them like exaggerations of his true feelings but they may just as well have been something taught by his apparent ‘father’ figure, rather than something he naturally believed.
“Yato… have you really been thinking that we ALL haven’t wanted to be with you this whole time? I know we haven’t exactly gotten along in the past but I can assure you that if I hadn’t wanted to come today to apologize to you myself, my shinki would have staged a revolution and come down here all the same. They are all incredibly grateful to you for all you have done for me, that much I know for sure.” Bishamon once again reassures the man who was just recently her arch-nemesis. But looking at the god before her, she can finally confirm to herself that it was never really about him at all, and she was only using her hatred for him as a way to escape from her gnawing guilt. He probably never saw her as some rival in the way that Bishamon always did and she honestly doesn’t think he would ever have really tried to kill her despite what he always claimed when they fought. Sometimes she wonders if she would have truly ended him as well if she had him actually cornered during a fight. Suddenly she finds herself glad rather than frustrated that this scrawny, track-suit wearing idiot happens to be a lot stronger than he looks.
“Me and my followers have started a… diary together,” she admits face heating up more than she cares to consider as she continues, “and despite my initial embarrassment-”
“Initial?” Kufuku quietly teases, but after a disappointed elbowing from Daikoku she quiets down again.
“Ahem! Despite my initial embarrassment, I have come to realize many things that I previously was wholly unaware of. Such as the gratitude that my very own guiding light has had for you ever since that fateful day. And that gratitude is something I should have shared with him instead of using you to escape my own sorrow. For that, I am forever sorry.” And the heat in her cheeks faded as fast as it came when she spoke the words she had meant to say ever since she arrived at the cherry tree in the first place.
“I admit that the way I first said this to you was rather… emotional and intense, but I assure you that most of that was true and was supposed to be what I just communicated rather than whatever I said earlier,” she huffed.
“Most of it?” the gods blue eyes crinkled in confusion. “Wadda ya mean? Was some of tha’ not true?” he slurred. Yato continued to give her a confused look even as his head lolled onto the top of Yukine’s fluffy yellow hair. His grip on yet another empty sake bottle loosened and it dropped quietly to the soft yellow and white checkered blanket below them. The other pink picnic blanket was all but forgotten as the smaller group of spiritual beings had gathered closely around Yato and the tree they had all come to view.
“Well, if you must know, I don’t believe I ever truly hated you Yato, not really. My feelings as strong as they may be, were never really about you at all, and I had myself convinced of my hatred for you even as a part of me was well aware that you were not the real object of my loathing.” When Bishamon looked down to the space between her and her oldest living shinki she saw the tight grip that Kuzuma had been keeping on her hand as she spoke. She smiled up at him and he seemed to understand her appreciation without having to voice it out loud. She really could never have asked for a better right hand man. Briefly she wondered how she could ever have been so foolish as to almost revoke his name and disown him. Something inside her knew that she could never truly remove their connection but even just the banishing of him from her fortress in Takamagahara was painful, as it was just as much the home he fought so valiantly for as it was her’s. How foolish had she been to let her pain and grief cloud her judgment and even though she previously blamed Yato as the reason behind his banishment…
“I’m glad that Kuzuma supported you despite everything I said, and I was a fool to banish him for it. You are the makings of a great god Yato. I can tell.” she finishes the thought earnestly, deciding to voice it out loud given how much the younger and less fortunate god seems to doubt himself. She figures he may need any reassurance than he can get. And if the tears and look on his face as she said those final words to him mean anything, then her suspicion is probably right.
“Holy shit, I can’t believe you would say tha’ Bishamon-'' he returns his hand not gripped by a concerned pink goddess to scrub once more at his eyes in vain. “I don’ think I’ve ever cried this much in all my life. It’s kind of humiliating,” he tried for a laugh but it quickly turned into an even more humiliating whine.
“Only Ebisu has ever said somethin’ like tha’ to me an’... an’... Bisha... I never hated you either I actually always looked up to you! An’ found you real inspirin’ an’ cool,” the last part of his speech rushed, like he didn’t expect to be able to say it at all. “Fuck, Bisha, I thought you were the coolest war god out there an’ I wanted to be jus’ like you when I was a kid. I ‘member father once told me that you never k-killed unless you had to... an’ even if he meant it as an insult… it meant a lot to me, ya know? T-To learn that there are gods out there, even badass gods of war, who weren’ like me,” he could feel his face heating and only hoped the flush already there from the sake made it less obvious how hard this was to admit for him.
"B-Badass?" a suddenly embarrassed Bishsamonten remarked before getting swept away once more in the past Yato so rarely spoke of.
“Sometimes Rabō would tell me somethin’ like that,” his gaze once again sliding away from the present and off to an unseeing distant spot that most of the gathering now recognized as him seemingly getting lost in memory.
“Somethin’ about bein’ the ‘makin’s of a true god o’ calamity’. But he would only say it after I did what father wanted without complainin’ a single time. H-He would praise me for how m-many lives I took like it was somethin’ I shoulda taken more p-pride in,” he shuddered even in the unrelenting hug he was still wrapped in. Curling further into himself again as much as he could with his one hand outstretched and still firmly gripped by Kofuku, the other he now realizes was once again buried in his hair. He gave the dark violet locks a strong tug and the pain in his scalp helped him escape from the haunting memory he had fallen back into.
“S-sorry… I dunno why I said that, it’s pretty disgusting,” his voice quiet and shakier than he wanted and he tightened his grip on his hair once again tugged harshly in frustration. Why was he saying all of this now when he had managed to keep it to himself for centuries?
He realized he must have lamented his struggle on keeping his lips shut out loud, (and doesn't that make an annoying amount of sense), when Yukine released his tight side hug to grab Yato’s face in his hands and turn his tear clouded gaze from where it had been drifting to the blurry face of his young regalia.
“Yato. Stop that right now. I am glad that you aren’t keeping this to yourself anymore. I can’t believe you’ve just been feeling like this silently while keeping a smile on your stupid face,” Yukine’s eyes widened when Yato flinched slightly at the mild insult, “Wow, sorry, you know I don’t mean it right? When I say stuff like that? Please tell me you don’t actually believe me when I call you an idiot?” at the look on his master’s face Yukine could only sigh.
“Fuck, Yato! I’m only teasing you! I promise that I don’t really mean it when I insult you I just-” he fumbles for words for a while even as his hands continue to squish said idiot’s face to try to keep him from tugging on his hair like that.
“It just means Yuki-chan cares about you,” Hiyori’s gentle voice chides from the other side of Yato’s slumped form.
“Yeah!,” Yukine admits, even as his face flushes in embarrassment... from the cutesy nickname or the admission he’s not entirely sure, but at the moment that doesn’t matter as much as letting his master know that he cares about him. And he let’s go of Yato’s face even as his gaze remains firmly locked with those piercing blue eyes.
“Yato, I mean it as a term of en-endearment or something… I only tease you ‘cause I care for you, doofus! Jeez, I can't believe you’re makin’ me admit this to you!” He looks away from his master in embarrassment only to see the teasing smile’s on the faces surrounding him. “Hey! Stop looking at me like that, ugh! Shit...my face is on fire… I can’t believe I just said that out loud. I hope you’re happy with that much outta me, Hiyori! ‘Cause I don’t think I can handle that level of sincerity again today.” he points dramatically at the girl who finished his still buffering thought for him, and kindly let everyone know just how much of a nerd Yukine actually is for caring so much. He huffed again and buried his face into Yato’s shoulder to avoid the teasing smile’s that are clearly turning into bigger grins as his face continues to heat up to a probably bright red color that Yukine doesn’t particularly want them to see.
But he moves back away from the inviting shoulder when he hears Hiyori’s worried berating to “please stop tugging on your hair like that Yato-chan,” and see’s for himself the god still firmly gripping a handful of hair. But it’s Daifuku who speaks up before Yukine can think of anything more to say that might get him to let go.
“Is that something you do a lot Yato? Iki-san have you seen him do this before?” the stern voice of the oldest appearing individual remaining, (other than Tenjin whose face was unreadable as he sat in silence and watched the events unfold before him), had Hiyori Iki’s attention jolting away from the god that introduced her to this second world now so deeply intertwined with her own. And for the first time since her favorite god's emotional admissions began, she focused on someone else. As her eyes found Daifuku’s serious expression she audibly squeaked before quickly answering with a shake of her head. Yato, on the other hand, didn’t react other than to slowly lift his gaze from where it had once again drifted down and into the distant past.
“Yato-san, I asked if you pull on your hair like that often or if it’s just something you chose to do today,” his tone unwavering even as Yato blinked heavily and hiccuped again from either the ever present tears or perhaps the copious sake. Daifuku watched as the grip on the violet locks was slowly released and the hand in question, much to their collective relief, moved in front of the visibly shaken god where he glared weightily at the offending appendage. He let out a low hum before sniffling slightly as his tears finally came back to a halt. He opened and closed the hand a few times slowly before finally opening his mouth to slur out an answer,
“I dunno… I guess sometimes. But not really since I met Hiyori… I usually just text her about somethin’ dumb instead…” he trailed off again into a hiccup and let his hand flop to the ground beside him where Hiyori quickly snatched it up with the hand that wasn’t still holding him tightly to her side. He blinked again slowly and looked towards his other hand which was still in the grip of…
“Kofuku… how long have you been holdin’ my hand? I’m sorry I didn’ even notice til now an’-” he’s cut off before he can interrogate said hand holder by Daifuku's gruff voice again.
“Yato,” he interrupts the shift of attention before it can get anywhere and laments, “You can’t just change the subject right now Yato, this is… very concerning,” his voice losing its hard edge as he continues with a bit more audible concern leaking into his speech.
“You said that you used to do that ‘sometimes’, but even saying that much coming from you probably means a lot,” he points at the top of his head and it takes Yato a few slow blinks to put together that he means the hair tugging thing.
“Uh…,” Yato flounders for words for a moment and his frustration only builds when he can feel his eyes burn with the threat of even more tears. To his ever growing frustration he comes to the realization that any attempt to change the subject is seemingly not going to fly here and he tugs his arms slightly in an attempt to bury them in his hair, only to find that they are both currently occupied.
“Can I have my hands back?” he asks slowly, as he attempts not to slur his words.
“Are you going to tug on your hair again?” asks Daifuku for some reason (‘he’s not even the one who's holding his hands hostage in the first place!’ Yato’s inebriated mind reminds him). But when he looks back to the older shinki’s face out of confusion, all he sees is the unwavering concerned glare directed back at Yato himself. Maybe that is why he decided to answer honestly.
“Yeah, probably…” Yato admits, blinking slowly. And tugs on his arms again, almost freeing the one held by Kofuku before she adds her other hand to her grip.
“What’sa big deal anyway! It barely even hurts an’ I don’ know why you’re sill talkin’ about it, let alone why you brought it up!” his frustration continues to grow steadily as he slurs heavily despite his best efforts and lets his head fall back to the tree with a loud thump instead. He distantly wonders if he should just bang his head back against the tree instead of pulling on his hair but he decides not to when Daifuku’s concern only seems to grow. Seriously, how is a good for nothin’ god like himself worth any of their concern?
When Daifuku’s eyebrows only crinkle deeper in worry and the hands holding his own tighten their respective grips he realizes he must have said something he didn’t intend to out loud again, and that was getting very annoying in Yato’s humble opinion.
“Oops,” he huffs in place of a self deprecating chuckle he cant seem to find the energy for, “didn’ mean to say that out loud…” and he decides that, actually... fuck it! If he can’t even hide how he’s feeling anyways he might as well give that whole head banging idea his brilliantly intoxicated mind had previously supplied a good old fashion try. So he lifts his head slightly up from the trunk before letting it fall back again with a satisfying crack. And he finds himself only able to blink blearily as the group around him jolts closer in response.
“Yato!”
“What the fuck!!”
“What, and I mean this very sincerely, the fuck do you think you’re doing Yato?” grits out the previously relatively cool and collected Daifuku. And Daifuku’s cool demeanor evaporates completely as he hears the still shockingly quiet response from a god that he has never gotten to fully grasp the idea of an ‘inside voice’ despite all the decades they have known each other. And during that time, Daifuku has to wonder, was he hurting himself without telling anyone? The thought alarmed him and he decided that after this lovely display there was no way in hell he was just letting this conversation drop. Even if he didn't get answers out of him now, Daifuku would definitely be speaking to the younger god about this in a more private setting on another day. He waited patiently and ground his teeth as Yato finally decided to respond.
“You wouldn’ give me back my hands?” the tone the young god uses is far too unsure to be anything other than a desperate attempt to placate his companions obvious concern. And almost as if to home in the point the youngest god present gave his hands another firm tug and brought his knees back up tightly to his chest, almost dislodging the grip Kufuku had on him before she simply shifted even closer to Yukine’s position at his side and steeled both her gaze and her pesky grip on Yato’s hand.
“Yato… “ Daifuku lets out a long sigh before leveling Yato with a serious and almost paternal look, “Why are you trying to hurt yourself like that? It’s very alarming and we don’t want to see you do that again,” he couldn’t help but feel his expression melt into one of concern and regret. “Sheesh kid, I really hope you haven’t been doing that kind of thing under my roof without any of us noticing…”
“I… I dunno why? ‘M not a kid! An’ i'm sorry I did it in front o’ you… I won't do it in your house anymore I swear…” but when the look on Daifuku’s face only seemed to sadden where he wanted it to… to… Yato wasn’t exactly sure what kind of response he wanted but he was even less sure what it was he needed to say to get it. He could hear his tone grow more confused and his speech quickened, even as he tried to reel in the slurring and get his voice under control.
“I dunno what ‘m supposed ta say…” and despite his best efforts he could feel tears begin to well in his eyes again and this time he had no hands to cover his face with. At the feeling of incoming tears he began to panic more so than before.
“I-I! I’m sorry! I don’... I don’t understand... “ he realized he was breathing too fast but when he tried to focus on his breathing it just became more erratic and he stared at the top of his knees as he gasped for shallow breaths that seemed to be slipping from his throat before they could reach his lungs. He squeezed his eyes shut but felt more tears fall and decided to bury his face into his knees if he can’t use his hands. Pressing his eyes into his knee caps did nothing to stop the flow of tears, however, and against his will he let out a humiliating whine that lasted longer than he expected. He shuddered and barely heard the words he could tell were being said over the ever growing anxiety about his lack of breath.
“Yato! Yato calm down! I shouldn't have phrased it like that...I can’t believe the only thing you managed to understand was that we didn’t want to see it… Yato… it’s not about us seeing you do it, it’s about you doing it at all! Shit… Okay, we don’t have to talk about this now! Just! Just breathe okay? Don’t worry about it right now, you don’t have to apologize anymore, okay?” Yato had never heard Daifuku panic like he is now and it almost made him want to laugh if he wasn’t so busy wheezing into his knees. He hadn’t even noticed the quiet ‘sorry’s he was still choking out between bated breath until Daifuku commented on them. At least when he stopped instinctively apologizing it became slightly easier to breathe again. And the hands grasping at him in concern only made him want to bury his own hands into his hair and curl into himself even more. He thinks he’s going to die of humiliation at all of the pitiful whining sounds his vocal cords seem to be making against his will. He jolted back upright and would have whacked himself back on the trunk of the cherry tree if it wasn’t for Hiyori and Yukine gripping him tightly. At some point Kufuku had replaced Yukine to his side as the younger boy slipped between his master and the tree that belonged to his dead friend, hugging him tightly from behind and currently preventing him from escaping the gentle hand of Daifuku that had retreated from his hair after he almost jumped out of his skin. He looked up through stinging eyes at the blurred form of one of the first people to tolerate him when he abandoned his previous mantle for the new name Yato. And after a few moments of hesitation, Yato buried his face back into his knees and only slightly flinched as the large hand returned to his head.
“Wha’ are you doin’?” his question was raspy and ended in another strange whining sound that despite feeling in his throat, Yato wasn’t sure was really coming from himself. He doesn’t remember ever making that noise before today. But he also can’t remember ever crying genuine tears without being completely silent and still as he did so. He heard a non-committal sound from the man with his hand carding through his hair.
“Checking for a bump I suppose. Although, I guess that’s not really necessary given all the damage I’ve seen you just walk off in the past.” He quiets for only a moment before Hiyori speaks up again from beside the reckless god in question.
“I couldn’t even tell he was hurting before he literally collapsed from pain when he was blighted by Yuki-chan! At this point, I certainly don’t trust that he’s fine just because he looks or says he is!” she raved, voice raised and filled with concern. If Yato could see her face he was sure it would make him wilt with guilt at making her feel so upset. But he also realized that he felt guilty just hearing her say it so he supposed to himself that it was a bit of a moot point. At this he actually managed a wheezing chuckle and the hand carding through his hair stopped and pressed on a spot of his scalp that felt painful and raised. It hurt but he didn’t mention it and fleetingly hoped that Kofuku’s stupid folding fan would just remove his hand, move on, and go back to doting on her instead of focusing on Yato. But the hand remained paused over the spot and as he gently inspected the area before speaking up again in a significantly less panicked way than during the aftermath of his interrogation a minute ago.
“Well… It’s not that bad but it’ll probably hurt for a few days unless you ice it when you leave. Actually, not unless, you will ice this head injury when you get back to Kofuku’s place. I wont let you just ignore it even if it’s not that serious. Yato… at least let us take care of you sometimes if you aren’t going to look after yourself.” His voice was softer than Yato had ever heard and even as he lifted his head to look at the older looking man’s face, the expression he found there was only gentle and concerned, not reprimanding like the young god expected. He blinked to try to stop the tears that seemed to permanently leak out of his face ever since he sat against this beautiful cherry blossom tree, and he couldn’t help but think of Sakura’s face once more as he let out a soft sigh and gazed sleepily into Daifuku’s eyes.
“Okay,” he said shakily as his knees came down from his chest and back to the crossed position they were usually in when he sat. But his gaze didn’t follow them down, he was still looking into Daifuku’s eyes as his expression somehow softened even more and his stubbled chin moved again as he confirmed what he heard.
“Okay?” Daifuku parroted, lightly questioning his sincerity with genuine care and concern that Yato didn’t know how to process.
“Yeah. Okay… If you guys really care… then I don’ mind if you wanna take care o’ me an' my problems when I don’ wanna do anythin' 'bout 'em” and he slid forward while leaning back against Yukine’s chest without fully escaping the boy’s embrace. He could see the cherry blossoms from here and watched as a couple stray petals escaped the tree’s hold to dance merrily on the gentle wind.
“I think Sakura would want me to let you. She used to say something kinda like that before she died.” And he wasn’t exactly sure why he didn’t say ‘before I killed her’ this time, but for some reason it felt like a weight was lifting from his chest, and he didn’t bother to correct himself. His words were quieter than he wanted and his eyes kept staying closed longer every time he tried to blink them open.
“She said sometimes that I was worth takin’ care of, worth her concern… and she was usually right about these kinds o’ things I’ve found…” an unexpected yawn interrupted his fleeting train of thought and he managed to force open his heavy eyelids one more time to look up at the blossoms, practically glowing a soft pink in the afternoon sun, before he felt them fall shut again and his head drooped against what he assumed must be Hiyori’s shoulder but his body remained too heavy for him to move it. He felt her finally let go of her tight grip on his hand, but only a second later he felt her fingers brush his bangs out of his face and tuck them behind his only ear not pressed to her side. And Yato must admit, in his last moment of wakefulness, that Hiyori’s gentle touch was certainly a lovely thing to fall asleep to.