Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Notebook

Yukine stared at Kofuku's shrine in front of him, feet rooted to the ground. A handful of black dots appeared at the edges of his vision and slowly spread inwards, and he had to remind himself to breathe until they receded. His hands trembled in fists at his sides, nails biting into his palms.

It shouldn't be this hard. He had walked up to this shrine and gone inside a thousand times before, even if he'd visited only infrequently over the past year. It was just a building, and Kofuku and Daikoku would be waiting inside, just as kind and loving as always.

And yet.

He closed his eyes and took another deep breath, gathering his nerve. All he had to do was put one foot in front of the other, grasp the knob, go inside. There was nothing scary about that. Nothing to make his heart squeeze tightly in his chest or his breath come in shallow gasps. But he wasn't scared of what he'd find inside at all—he was scared of what he wouldn't. He was scared to see again what was missing, the hole left gaping wide in a once familiar space. He was scared that the pain of it would bring him to his knees, open every last scar and send him spiraling again.

That hole followed him everywhere these days because it was, in truth, a hole in his heart. But to come back here, where they had been happy and together, where their voices and laughter still rang in cheerful echoes, where ghosts still lingered… He was afraid it would hurt more, that the hole would yawn wider. He was afraid that all the slow, painful progress he'd made over the past year would crumble back to nothing when he was faced again with everything he was running away from.

"Are you alright?" Kazuma asked from behind him.

Yukine nearly jumped out of his skin, his feet springing back to life as he spun around. "You– What are you doing here?"

"Sorry." Kazuma cleared his throat and looked supremely uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot. "I didn't mean to startle you. You were just upset, and I wanted to make sure…"

Yukine looked away. "I'll keep myself under control. I won't hurt Bishamon."

"That's not…" Kazuma sighed and stepped forward to rest a hand on Yukine's shoulder. "I know it's hard. I just wanted to be sure you made it here okay. Do you want me to come in with you?"

Yukine swallowed hard and closed his eyes against the beginnings of tears burning at their corners. He didn't know how he would have survived the past year without Kazuma's friendship and guidance. It was lucky they had worked out their grudges before…everything. Whatever Kazuma's past mistakes, he had stood by Yukine through everything, making sure he found his way.

"Thank you," Yukine managed. "But no. I need to do this myself."

Kazuma squeezed his shoulder. "Of course. But if you want to talk about it once you're done, I'll be waiting back home. Just let me know how I can help."

That was what Yato had always told Yukine to do: talk about what was bothering him to get support or comfort or advice instead of dwelling on it until it spiraled out of control. Yukine had never been able to open up like that to anyone other than Yato and Hiyori, but he still held the advice close to heart. He might not be able to bring himself to share everything with Kazuma, but he could at least acknowledge that he was upset about it. Kazuma already knew that much anyway.

"Sure," Yukine mumbled. "I'll see how it goes."

Kazuma smiled a little sadly and stepped back. "Good luck."

Yukine nodded once and turned away. With Kazuma's gaze boring into his back, he found the willpower to march up to the shrine and knock on the door. Enough procrastinating. He would only make things worse.

The door swung open so fast that he wondered if they'd known he was there all along, waiting on the other side for him to gather his nerve.

"Yukki!" Kofuku chirped. "It's so good to see you. I'm glad you could make it."

She threw her arms around him and hugged him with genuine warmth. When she leaned back, she smiled sadly and brushed her fingers along the sleeve of his jacket before letting her hand fall away.

Yukine tugged his jacket tighter around himself self-consciously. It had been a long time since he had worn the green, hooded jacket that had been his favorite and colored so many of his winter memories, but he had made a snap decision this morning to make an exception today.

"Come in, come in," Daikoku said, ushering Yukine inside. "We have food and…"

He and Kofuku exchanged an uncertain look.

"We aren't sure how you want to do this," Kofuku admitted. Despite her warm greeting, she looked tired and careworn, and her eyes were sad. "If you want to talk about Yato-chan or just…"

Yukine's throat closed up again. "No," he croaked. "Not really."

Kofuku hesitated only a moment before nodding. "Of course. Well, we have lunch ready, so why don't we eat and chat? You can tell us what you've been up to lately. I'm sure we've missed a bunch. You haven't visited often enough."

Yukine looked away, ashamed at the reminder of how he'd neglected his friendships here, and followed her into the kitchen. Daikoku dished out food while Yukine and Kofuku settled themselves at the table.

"So, how have you been?" Kofuku asked, striving for normalcy. "Have you been getting on with the team?"

"Yeah, I guess," Yukine muttered, pushing his food around his plate unenthusiastically. It tasted like ash in his mouth. "I go out with them sometimes, and the rest of the time I'm free to do pretty much whatever I want. I've been getting better at it lately, even if it still feels weird."

After being Yato's one and only, it had been a challenge getting used to being just another cog in the well-oiled machine coordinated by Kazuma and Bishamon. Yukine was not suited to teamwork. He preferred a one-on-one partnership. But he didn't have that luxury anymore, and he had been slowly learning how to adjust. He had refused to even try at all in the beginning, but Kazuma had eventually coaxed him out and become a mentor again, working with him to iron out his kinks and fit into his place in the team. Yukine still more or less hated it, but at least he was capable of doing the job when he needed to.

But he honestly did not want to talk about himself at all, or about his new life. Not here in the ashes of his old one.

"And what trouble have you been getting into?" he asked with a thin smile, his amusement threadbare.

Kofuku bit her lip and exchanged a look with Daikoku, but obligingly chattered away and carried the conversation so that Yukine didn't have to. It was kind of her.

"We wish you would come by more," Daikoku said gruffly as things began winding down and they gathered up empty dishes. "It's not the same…"

Yukine looked away. It would never be the same again. He still found it too painful to come back most of the time, but maybe that would ease if he started coming more frequently. Kofuku and Daikoku had been most obliging about meeting him at other places every once in a while, but he had not kept up with them as much as he should have. And… He missed them too. Maybe his loss was only compounded more by throwing away the people he had left as well.

"Maybe…" He took a deep breath and forged on before he lost his nerve. "I was thinking I might start picking up some shifts in the shop again? I have some free time around whatever I do for Bishamon and…"

He was not sure this was a good idea at all, but Kofuku's and Daikoku's faces lit up like Christmas trees.

"That sounds wonderful, Yukki!" Kofuku said. "It would be nice to have you around more."

"As long as it's not interfering with your work with Bishamon," Daikoku said. "We'd love to have you back. I could use a hand. Kofuku does more harm than good when she tries to help."

"Daikoku, that's mean!"

Yukine looked away and swallowed hard. It seemed suddenly suffocating in here, with their hope and concern and melancholy weighing down on him.

"Can I–? Would it be okay if I…went upstairs for a few minutes?"

He could almost feel them exchanging looks as he stared down at the table.

"Of course," Kofuku said gently. "Go ahead. And… You know that you're welcome to come over any time, right? Even just to visit upstairs. You still have a place here."

Yukine nodded. "Yeah," he mumbled. "Maybe I'll come more. Help with the shop, you know."

"That would be nice. Go ahead, now. But say goodbye before you leave!"

Yukine scrambled for the stairs, but he found his feet dragging slower and slower as he neared the top. He hesitated just outside their old attic room, steeling himself, and then pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The room was nearly bare now. The small table that he used to do his homework on was still there, but most everything else was gone. He had taken his clothing and books and lamp with him when he moved out, and Yato had left very little behind. The futons were hidden away in the closet, ready and waiting in case he ever wanted to stay over again. The table was free of dust, and Yukine wondered if Kofuku or Daikoku still came in here to clean sometimes, or to remember. Or if they, like him, preferred to stay away.

He had come back, of course, on occasion, but only a few times. He usually did not venture up the staircase and brave the empty silence smothering their old room. It felt barren now, and cold. There was little sign of life here anymore, little left of them in it. Yukine could only ever see what was missing, and the space Yato left yawned wide here. Yukine could so easily see him sprawled across his futon, furtively drawing capypers on homework assignments, or perched on the windowsill to look out at the night when he thought everyone was sleeping. Yukine could almost hear the echo of his laughter and teasing and childish whining bouncing around the room.

But those were only daydreams. There was nothing left here for him, and it made him feel lonelier than ever.

The only thing left of Yato here was his shrine, perched on the windowsill where its god used to sit. Yukine had taken the cash bottle and cellphone with him when he moved out, but the shrine had stayed here. It had not been his decision, although he had more or less made his peace with it now. Kazuma had put his foot down about bringing another god's shrine into Bishamon's home, worried that Yukine would obsess over it and drag out the grieving process and hurt Bishamon more than necessary. Kofuku and Daikoku had sided with him, saying it would make it harder for Yukine to adjust to his new life with a new god and family if he was still tethered so strongly to his old one. They had promised to keep the shrine here for him with an open door so that he could visit whenever he liked.

Yukine had not taken it well. It had taken him a long time to forgive them for it.

But now he left it alone here without complaint. It was the single most painful reminder left. The symbol that Yato should have had a believer, should not have been forgotten. And Hiyori was carved into every line. Her hands had touched every piece. They were both gone now, leaving behind this broken promise of what should have been.

As usual, Yukine's heart seized and turned over at the sight of it.

He slipped his hand into his pocket, and his fingers curled around a cool metal disk. He ran the pad of his thumb over every dip and groove of the coin before pulling it out and approaching the shrine. Although he did not come up here often, he always made sure to have a five yen coin when he did. Yato would have liked that.

"I wish you were here," he said, his voice low and husky to his own ears. "I remember you, and I wish that was enough."

As he stepped forward to place the coin at the base of the shrine with the handful of others he had brought over the past year, a plank creaked beneath his foot and seemed to wobble. He looked down with a frown, sliding his foot back and forth along the edge of the board and pressing at it. It rocked slightly under the shifting pressure.

He could have walked away just then and forgotten the small oddity. He had never noticed a loose floorboard before, but it was hardly a grand mystery and nothing that warranted investigation. But because the shrine hurt to look at and he would seize any opportunity to distract himself from the grief lingering in every corner, he crouched down and poked at the loose board. When he worked his fingernails along the side and wedged a finger underneath, it lifted up easily.

Underneath was a small hollow, and inside that hollow was a book. Yukine stared at it for a long time and then shoved the board aside to rest on the floor. The book was small and bound between black covers. No title graced the cover, and Yukine had never seen it before. It could be Kofuku's or Daikoku's. But it surely was not.

Yukine settled into a more comfortable position on the floor and opened the book slowly. The pages were lined and without printing: a notebook. Yato's spidery scrawl peered up at him.

He slammed the notebook shut, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, and closed his eyes. He had never once seen Yato writing in this, or writing much of anything at all besides doodles on unattended homework pages. What could possibly…?

He wished he had never found it. But it was such a gift to find something left over from Yato. He wanted to bury it back beneath the floorboards and never venture here again. He wanted to rip the book open and read it cover to cover this instant, soaking it all in.

Slowly, slowly, he opened the cover again.

For Yukine and Hiyori, who keep whining that I have too many secrets and they don't know me at all. Maybe I'll show this to you one day. Or maybe not. Probably not. But if I do, and if you like a good puzzle, then maybe you can figure out how to jigsaw it all together.

Yukine swallowed hard, and it felt like he was choking. His gaze slid over Hiyori's name like oil on water, but he stared down at his own. For him. From Yato. Something to help him understand. And he had never even guessed.

He flipped through the notebook, his gaze skimming across the pages as he took stock of what he'd found. Yato's handwriting covered the pages, a sentence or two here and there or the occasional paragraph. Just small snippets of things scribbled whenever he had a moment.

Nora was my first shinki. Father gave her to me and I named her Hiiro, and I didn't really understand at the time because I was a child, but I was the one who made her into a nora. Maybe that's why I always felt so…responsible.

I've always known capypers aren't real, but it's just so much fun to watch Yukine rolling his eyes and Hiyori making him shut up so that he doesn't ruin my pure, innocent belief.

I'm supposed to be the strong one, the one who holds us together when we're falling apart. And normally it's fine because they're really just kids and someone has to do it, but it gets so exhausting sometimes. I don't always feel strong, but I can't just fall apart. I don't want to be strong right now.

The purpose of a god is to fulfill wishes. Humans aren't supposed to grant our wishes. But Yukine and Hiyori have granted mine. Yukine has become the companion and guidepost I always wanted, and Hiyori became the believer I needed and gifted me the shrine I never had. They mean everything to me.

I wonder what it will be like to disappear. I was never really all that afraid of dying, although I'll fight to my last breath to avoid it, but disappearing like you never lived at all… That sounds terrifying.

A strange, strangled sort of sound worked its way out of Yukine's mouth. His stomach twisted and heaved, and he thought he might be sick. He pressed his fingers to the word 'disappear' until it blurred and wavered and he had to blink back tears.

Had Yato been terrified in those last few moments before he vanished? Or had it been instantaneous, without leaving him time to be afraid? Yukine would never know, because he hadn't been there. Hadn't even realized the truth until it was much too late.

He had already known Yato was afraid of vanishing, but it was still a knife twisting in his gut. He wished he had been there for Yato. He wished he had been able to say goodbye.

Mostly, he wished that it had never happened at all.

Yukine wished again that he hadn't found the book, but only for a moment. He wanted to sit here and read the whole thing cover to cover, or maybe take it back with him and only read one page at a time, stretching it out over weeks or months to savor these last few pieces of Yato he had left. He was afraid it would break him.

Nearly three-quarters of the notebook was filled with Yato's scribbles, some pages mostly blank with only a sentence or two and others covered margin to margin. Just from skimming, it seemed like there was no rhyme or reason to the things Yato had written. They were in no kind of order, not obviously connected to each other. Just a handful of puzzle pieces Yato had left behind. Yukine didn't know yet if he could fit them together or if there were too many missing.

It hurt. It hurt so much, like Yukine's heart was being broken all over again. But it was also the best, most bittersweet gift Yato could have left behind.

Yukine itched to pore over every last word, but he was also afraid, too paralyzed to flip back to the beginning and immerse himself. Instead, he hunched over himself, curling around this precious, painful book, and cried.

Chapter Text

Kofuku & Daikoku

Sometimes I like to clean something around the house or do some chore and then watch Yukine and Daikoku try to figure out who did it. I don't own up to it and no one ever seems to suspect me, and it's great fun.

When Yukine woke with a yawn and sat up to stretch the tension from his muscles, he noticed that Yato was gone. The other futon sat empty, the covers rumpled and abandoned in messy heaps. Would it kill the idiot to make the bed every once in a while?

He supposed he couldn't complain, though. Half the time it was a struggle just to get Yato out of bed before noon.

Yukine went through his morning routine and headed down to the kitchen in search of breakfast. Kofuku was already munching away as she flipped through a magazine, and Daikoku hovered over the stove.

"Good morning, Yukine," Daikoku said. "Do you want some breakfast? Might as well get some before your idiot master comes down and eats it all."

"Yeah, I'm starved, thank you. Yato hasn't been in here yet?"

"Nope. But when is he ever up before noon?"

Yukine frowned at the plate Daikoku set in front of him. "But he's already up. His bed is empty. I would have thought he'd be bugging you for food already."

"Huh." Daikoku sat down with his own breakfast. "I've been down here for an hour and haven't seen him."

"Maybe he had an errand to run," Kofuku suggested, scrubbing at the magazine she had just dropped food on. "Or he couldn't sleep and got up early. Sometimes he roams when he can't sleep."

Yukine shrugged. Yato had two modes: clingy and impossible to get rid of, or secretive and intent on doing everything solo without filling anyone else in. Although Yukine preferred being included in whatever he was up to, he had learned to accept that Yato had lived more or less alone for a long time and sometimes kept his own company. Yato came and went as he pleased, although he'd become much better at including Yukine or at least keeping him apprised of what he was up to.

"Maybe he got a call for a job," he said. "If he's cleaning someone's bathroom, more power to him. I owe him one for not waking me up for it."

"That could be it." Kofuku heaved a sigh as she gave up on her magazine and tossed it aside. "Do you think Hiyorin will come over today? I'm bored already, and she's been a stranger lately."

"No, sorry. She said she'd make it out over the weekend, but you know how busy she is these days. We're lucky we ever see her at all."

Yukine missed Hiyori's school days, when she had been able to visit nearly every day and tutor him with her old textbooks. That seemed like so long ago now. In the years since the great sorcerer debacle, when Yato and the heavens had finally managed to kill his father and Yukine had been dragged kicking and screaming away from the line he'd been straddling to come back to his senses and take up his rightful place at Yato's side again, Hiyori had grown where the rest of them did not. After graduating high school and getting her degree, she had taken her place working in her parents' hospital. She was happy and found the work fulfilling, if exhausting, which was what mattered. Yukine just wished she didn't have to work such long hours.

The only good thing about Hiyori's frequent absences was that Yukine and Yato had more time for jobs and ayakashi killing. With Yato's father out of the picture, it was more important than ever to find some believers. Measuring their success was an imprecise art. Yukine had no idea how many believers they had won, but Yato was at least more motivated than ever now that his main lifeline was gone. They had worked very hard at it, and Yato got more phone calls than ever due to their improved marketing strategy. Maybe he hadn't quite reached god of fortune status yet, but he was slowly moving up in the world.

With neither Yato nor Hiyori around to entertain him, Yukine put on his trusty old apron and went to work in the shop to keep himself occupied. He worked well into the afternoon, and when Yato still failed to appear, he began growing annoyed. Didn't the fool know that they had work to do? He wasn't going to win any believers by sitting around all day. Although the initial panic and urgency had faded over the years, Yukine was still all too aware that Yato's place in the world was uncertain now that his father was gone, and he did not like it when his master shirked his duties.

Yato did not come back that night. Or the next day. Or the day after that.

"Where could he be?" Yukine demanded in frustration.

Kofuku and Daikoku exchanged a look.

"You know how he is," Daikoku said. "Sometimes he runs off for a bit."

"But he hasn't done that in ages. Not since… He mostly did that when his dad and Nora called him back, I think. He hasn't been running off since they've been gone."

"Maybe, but Yato-chan's been alive for a long time," Kofuku said. "He's used to going off on his own when he wants to, and he's had a lot of experience taking care of himself. He might just not have realized how long he's been gone. Time feels different when you've been alive for centuries. A few days is just the blink of an eye, really."

"What an idiot," Yukine grumbled.

He had been hoping Yato was done with the running off by now, but he supposed maybe it was naïve to think that a centuries-old god would change his ways completely in only a few years. Still, Yato was going to get a piece of his mind when he showed his face again.

The only problem was, Yato never came back.

Kofuku's place is great. Yukine and Hiyori are a great family, and Kofuku and Daikoku are also great hosts. It's been a long time since I've had somewhere to call home like that.

When Yukine burst into the shrine, Kofuku and Daikoku took one look at his stricken, tear-stained face and dropped what they were doing to rush over.

"What's wrong, Yukki?" Kofuku asked.

"It's Hiyori," he managed.

"She's too busy to come over after all? She hasn't seen Yato-chan either, then?"

Yukine shook his head jerkily, his eyes filling with tears again. "She didn't know who I was."

Kofuku and Daikoku went very, very still. Yukine had not thought much of it when Hiyori did not come over the weekend as she said she would. She was very busy, after all, and sometimes plans changed. If she had called to say she couldn't make it, Yato would have known, but he wasn't here to tell the rest of them. Yukine had given her a few days before checking in to see how she was doing and ask if she'd seen Yato around recently.

He had not been expecting her to look right through him and politely inquire who he was. She had been growing up and making her own place in the world, but he hadn't known it was a place without them. He hadn't realized she was outgrowing them entirely.

"And Yato?" Daikoku asked slowly.

Yukine shook his head again. "She doesn't remember any of us. She's been so busy and distracted lately, but I didn't realize…"

"Oh," Kofuku said in a voice that was very small. "I'm sorry, Yukki. It's the way of humans to forget us, but she was a very good friend for a very long time. We'll miss her too. It really seemed like she'd be around forever, even with the distance lately."

Yukine hadn't had time to process the loss of Hiyori's friendship yet. He was sure that grief would come later. Right now, he was terrified.

"Yato," he croaked. "Yato hasn't come back."

"Oh, he'll be devastated," Kofuku said, but then all the blood drained from her face. "You don't really think…?"

"He couldn't be– We've worked so hard—there have to be other believers. But he has the worst luck and no one ever seems to remember him and…"

Yukine's breath hitched, and he realized that he was trembling all over. Yato had been missing for days. Yukine had been angry at him for it. It wasn't possible that all this time, he'd been gone for good and they'd never even realized it. Yukine was his hafuri. He would know if Yato was gone. He had to.

"Let's not panic," Daikoku said firmly, but he looked pale too. "It's just as likely that he's off causing his own mischief somewhere and lost track of time. More likely, really. This is Yato we're talking about."

This reassured exactly no one.

Yukine scrubbed his sleeve across his face. "I'm going to look for him. Check his usual haunts and ask around to see if anyone has seen him."

Daikoku frowned, probably thinking about the unlikelihood of finding Yato if he didn't want to be found, but he only nodded. "Right," he said. "We'll help."

They searched the streets, all the places Yato might normally like to go, any shrines he might have taken shelter in if he was trying to avoid ayakashi. Kofuku tried calling Yato's phone half a dozen times, and it only rang and rang and rang before going to voicemail.

They found exactly nothing.

By the time they were forced to give up for the night and head back home, Yukine's panic had reached new heights and nausea tied his insides into knots.

"We'll find him," Daikoku kept saying. "Just give it time. Why don't you try calling him one more time before bed?"

Kofuku looked about as optimistic as Yukine felt, but she pulled out her phone and dialed Yato's number again. An echoing ring sounded, audible in the distance. They all started in surprise, looking at each other and then, in unison, towards the stairs. They listened as the phones rang once, twice more, and then Yukine started back to life and ran.

He took the stairs two at a time and rushed into their attic room just as silence fell.

"Call it again!" he barked.

It started ringing again before the words had finished leaving his mouth, as Kofuku and Daikoku careened up the stairs behind him. He looked around wildly, trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from. It was louder now than it had been downstairs, and his stomach tied itself into another knot.

He rushed across the room and threw open the closet, where he had unceremoniously shoved Yato's futon and bedding when the god hadn't returned. He'd been so annoyed that he hadn't even done it neatly like he normally would have, and now he tore through the mounds of sheets and blankets. The phone rang louder in here, bouncing off the narrow walls, but it still had a slightly muffled, tinny quality. Until he picked up the blanket and shook it out and Yato's phone fell from the folds and clattered to the floor.

Kofuku and Daikoku pressed close behind him, peering over his shoulder. They stared down at the phone until it stopped ringing and plunged them back into silence.

Yukine sank slowly to his knees and picked up the phone, cradling it gently in his hands as tears welled in his eyes again. His heart felt too tight in his chest, and his throat constricted until he couldn't force out any words even if he knew what he wanted to say.

Yato might sometimes disappear for a few days or weeks at a time, and Yukine knew better than to worry about it too much. He might even disappear without telling anyone where he was going. But Yukine could not see him ever leaving his phone behind if he did.

"He's not coming back, is he?" he rasped finally.

And then it hit him, everything he had lost without even realizing it, and he dissolved into sobs.

Hanging out with Kofuku is fun. Sometimes I miss the disastrous duo we used to be, but I'm trying to be a god of fortune now. But every once in a while, it's impossible to resist indulging in a little chaos.

Yukine poked at his food unenthusiastically, his mind a million miles away. The table was devoid of the usual mealtime chatter, instead shrouded in silence.

Finally, Daikoku cleared his throat. "Yukine, there's something… There's something we wanted to talk to you about. Or make sure you've considered, at least, even if you don't do anything with it right now."

"What's that?" Yukine asked dully. He did not care.

"Well…" Daikoku hesitated and then plunged forward. "As I'm sure you know, it's important for shinki to have a master, a god they can rely on. It affords them protections that unnamed spirits and untethered shinki don't have."

"I have a master," Yukine snapped, his heart seizing up again. They wanted to talk to him about next steps and moving on, and he was not ready for that. "We don't know for sure that he's gone. I'm still looking. I could find him. He could come back."

Daikoku exchanged a look with Kofuku, who looked like she wanted to cry.

"It's possible," Daikoku said carefully. "But it's been weeks now, and we haven't found any sign of him. You don't have to decide anything right now, but just think about it for when you're ready."

"I'd know if he was gone," Yukine said wildly, desperately. He couldn't bear to think of taking a new master, a new name, erasing Yato like he'd never existed at all. "Look, I still have my name. And I'm his hafuri. He'd know if I was dead. Surely, I'd be able to feel something too? It's not fair that I wouldn't know."

After everything they'd shared, how strong their bond was, it seemed impossible that Yato might have disappeared just a few feet away while Yukine was sleeping. Impossible that Yukine wouldn't have had the chance to try to save him, or at least say goodbye. Impossible that Yukine had felt nothing, hadn't known at all.

"Oh, Yukki," Kofuku said, scrubbing at her eyes. "You will always be able to keep that name now. It wouldn't go away unless Yato-chan released you, and he would never have done that. Your bond with Yato-chan is so strong, so beautiful, but… The magic flows one way more than the other. Yato-chan would feel it if you died, but… Shinki don't have to bear those same things that gods do. I'm sorry."

"I would know," Yukine repeated, his voice breaking.

Kofuku swallowed hard and reached out to take his face in her hands. "You can wait for Yato-chan a little longer, but if you need a new master in the end… You'll be able to keep the name he gave you, but understand that it will make you a nora when you take on a new one. Many gods won't touch that with a ten-foot pole, but you'll be able to find someone.

"I… I could name you if you wanted, but we would have to keep it quiet. The heavens would censure me if I named another shinki. They were angry when I named Daikoku. And I probably wouldn't be able to use you, because your vessel form would bring chaos when it molded to me. But it's an option, if you want.

"Tenjin is a purist. He might make an exception since he knows you, but he doesn't generally name noras. Ebi-chan would take you without any questions asked, although he might work you to the bone. And I think Bisha would name you, if you asked. She likes you, and she's been sympathetic. It would be different from being a god's only shinki, but you might like working with a team. You would have a ready-made family.

"You don't have to decide now. Take your time. But you should at least start considering your options, because your future is very important. No matter what you decide, you will always have a home here. You can stay as long as you'd like, and you're welcome to come back whenever you want. We will always be here for you, no matter where your path takes you, okay?"

Yukine's face crumpled. "I don't want to let go."

"Oh, Yukki." Kofuku dropped her hand to press her fingers firmly against the name printed on his collarbone. "You will always carry a piece of Yato-chan wherever you go. Even once you move on. That's something you never have to let go of. Just don't forget to do what's best for yourself too."

Yukine didn't know what that might be. When Kofuku pulled her hands away and leaned back, his fingers fluttered over the spot she had touched. His name had meant everything to him, and he couldn't imagine taking another. But he wished he still had something else to hang on to as well. He wished he had Yato.

I can't believe Daikoku still lets me stick around despite my freeloading tendencies. Maybe I'm growing on him. He's grown on me.

"You should talk to them," Kazuma said. "It's been weeks, and they're persistent. I know you're upset about the shrine, but they're only doing what they think is best for you. They'll keep coming back until you talk to them."

Yukine huffed out a breath and glowered at the wall. "Whatever. I guess so."

Kazuma raised an eyebrow, surprised by the easy capitulation. "Really?"

"Yeah." Yukine slid off the end of his bed, crossing the floor in a few quick strides and squeezing through the doorway past Kazuma.

"Well, that's good. I'd advise you go back with them to the lower realm before Kofuku's misfortune breaks something else."

"Yeah, fine."

Yukine was still learning his way around the mansion, having spent much of his time sulking in his room rather than fraternizing with the other shinki, but he could find his way down to the entrance hall without much difficulty, even without Kazuma shadowing him. He slipped his hand into his pocket and clutched the phone tightly. It never strayed from his pocket these days, and he always kept it charged so that he could scroll through Yato's old text messages with Hiyori or listen to the recording of his voicemail greeting just to hear his voice again. Everyone had been worried he would fixate on the shrine, but it was the phone that had become his crutch, his security blanket. One time, he had thought he'd lost it and fallen into a full-blown panic enough to send Bishamon running to see what had happened, before realizing he had only forgotten to transfer it from the pocket of yesterday's outfit. He had never forgotten it again.

He had been angry and hurt when Kofuku and Daikoku had sided with Kazuma about leaving Yato's shrine behind. They were supposed to be on his side through everything, and it had felt like the worst of betrayals. His feelings on the matter were still edged with bitterness, but he had begun to let it go. In the end, he knew everyone had been right to insist on it. He was having a hard enough time adjusting to life after Yato without laying his prayers and wishes and begging at the foot of his shrine every hour of the day. And it wouldn't be fair to Bishamon, he supposed, to so religiously worship another god under her own roof instead of working at accepting her as his new master and learning how to adjust to life in her family.

So although he still didn't exactly agree with their tactics, he wasn't as angry about it anymore. Kofuku and Daikoku had only ever tried to do what was best for him and support him however they could, and it wasn't fair of him to hold a grudge for the one thing they hadn't seen eye to eye on.

They waited in the entry, either because they expected to be sent away again shortly or because Bishamon had tired of them destroying part of her house every time they came over and was trying to mitigate the damage. They stood with their heads bent close, whispering to each other. Yukine thought they looked tired, eyes shadowed and mouths drawn in tight lines.

Kofuku noticed him first, and her entire face lit up. "Yukki!"

"Hey, guys," he said with a small wave. "Long time no see. Wanna hang out in the lower realm? Kazuma doesn't want us making a mess here."

"Yes! We can go back home! It's been a long time since we've seen you. It's been so quiet without you."

"It's good to see you," Daikoku added, dropping a heavy hand onto Yukine's shoulder and squeezing once. "Tell us what you've been up to."

Yukine followed them back out of Takamagahara and answered their questions about his new life. He didn't have the heart to go into too much detail about something that was still so new and raw, but Kofuku and Daikoku looked so hopeful, so eager to hear it all, that he felt compelled to think of at least a few things he could tell them.

When they walked into the shrine, Yukine felt the emptiness descend like a shroud. He could almost hear Yato pounding down the stairs two at a time, welcoming them home cheerfully, ready to launch into some ridiculous story of what trouble he'd gotten into today. He could almost see Yato stretched out on the floor, shoveling food into his mouth at the dinner table, leaning over Yukine's and Hiyori's math homework and complaining that they should do something more fun. The echo was so loud here, the ghost of Yato so present, that the absence of him was suffocating.

"Do you want to go upstairs?" Daikoku asked.

Yukine swallowed hard and tore his gaze away from the staircase. "Not yet. Let's talk first."

He needed to go up there and visit Yato's shrine, but he hardly felt prepared for that. He needed time to gather himself.

Instead, he waited at the kitchen table while Daikoku cooked them up a meal and Kofuku chattered away. All he could think was how quiet it still sounded without Yato chatting right back with her and bickering with Daikoku and Yukine…and Hiyori. They had always gathered for meals, and the missing settings at the table gaped wide.

Yukine threw himself into the conversation, if only to distract himself. He answered Kofuku's and Daikoku's questions about what he'd been up to at Bishamon's and listened to their own updates in return.

When they had finished their meal and were clearing up the table, Daikoku finally asked, "Are you still angry with us?"

Yukine looked down at his empty plate and ran his thumb along the edge. "No," he said after a moment. "I understand why you did it, and I know you've only ever tried to do what was best for me. I just didn't want to lose that too."

"You should go up and say hello," Kofuku said. "And you can come by whenever you'd like. We'd always love to have you. This is still your second home. I'm glad you're not angry anymore."

This didn't feel like home anymore, though. Or maybe it felt too much like home, and having half his family gone hurt all the more within these walls. Yukine loved this place and the people here, but they hurt now too. He thought that the next time he came to visit, he would suggest meeting somewhere in town instead. Yato's shrine was still here, so he supposed he'd have to come back sometimes. He just didn't know how often he could bear it.

"Yeah," he said. "Okay. We can visit more. I've missed you too. I think I'll just…"

"Go on up," Daikoku said with a nod.

Yukine turned away, but then his heart dropped into his stomach and he whipped back around. "I don't have…" He fished around in his pocket just to make sure, but it was empty. "Do you have a five yen coin? I can't…"

"Yes, of course." Daikoku crossed the room and rummaged through a drawer until he found a coin. He pressed it into Yukine's palm and smiled at him a little sadly. "Yato would like that."

Yukine nodded, blinking back tears and swallowing down the lump in his throat. "Thank you."

He took the stairs slowly. The shrine looked exactly how he remembered it, and he slotted the coin carefully inside before retreating a few paces.

"I miss you," he said, before his throat clogged up again. He couldn't think of anything else to say. He didn't even have a wish that had any possibility of coming true.

He stood there in silence for a long time, wishing he felt Yato beside him but feeling nothing at all.

Kofuku is great, because she's never judged me for what trouble I get into or chaos I create. She's a bit of a kindred spirit, even if she's way nicer than I'll ever be.

"Oh, there are weeds here too!" Kofuku cried. "Yukki!"

Yukine heaved a long-suffering sigh and trudged across the garden, pulling the gloves back on. He had already been out here for nearly two hours, which had been fine when they were chatting but quickly grew tiresome when Daikoku went inside to make lunch and Kofuku recruited Yukine to help her with the gardening while they waited. Now they were both covered in dirt from head to toe, and Yukine's back ached from leaning over flowerbeds and yanking up weeds by their roots.

He supposed it was his own fault, really. They normally met at restaurants or walked around town for their visits, but today he had wanted to stop by Yato's shrine before he left, so it had seemed easiest to stay here. Since he didn't actually want to be inside that house full of memories the whole time, the garden had been the obvious compromise. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

Kofuku cheerfully pointed out all manner of weeds and went back to swinging her watering can around while Yukine pulled them up.

"You've been settling in better at Bisha's lately, haven't you?" she asked idly.

Yukine shrugged. "I guess. It's been months now, anyway. I go out with the team sometimes. Kazuma makes me. He isn't very impressed with my teamwork, but I've been getting better at figuring out how to get along with them. It's just very different to be part of an array of weapons rather than the only one a god has to rely on."

He missed being Yato's one and only, having that tight partnership where they only had each other to rely on in battle and had to be able to read each other's every move. Paying attention to the moves of half a dozen people was challenging, even with Kazuma directing, and Yukine itched to strike every blow. He quickly grew impatient with waiting around while some other shinki fought. And while Bishamon had been nothing but kind and understanding, she stood a little apart from him in a way that Yato never had. Although maybe that was his own fault. He had been wary of getting too close, and she had given him his space.

Still… Yato wasn't coming back, that much was certain after all these months, and Yukine couldn't just wait and pine forever. He had to get on with things. He was getting better at obeying Kazuma's commands instead of questioning them, learning to be part of a team, and reaching out to make tentative friendships with the other shinki. It was a start, at least.

"I can imagine," Kofuku said. "Bisha is a very different god, and she has a different way of running things. Have you been making any new friends, at least? You aren't still only talking to Kazuma, are you?"

"I'm making some friends, I guess. Or working on it, at least. I'm trying to hide in my room less. Most everyone is nice enough. It's just a lot to take in when there's so many of them."

"That's good to hear." Kofuku wandered back and crouched down beside Yukine. She took his face in her hands and met his gaze earnestly. "Yato-chan would be very proud of you, Yukki. You've come really far."

Yukine swallowed thickly, and tears blurred his vision. It was silly, really. Yato wasn't here. All Yukine was really doing was living his life, doing the bare minimum of what was expected of him. He hadn't accomplished anything particularly impressive, only stopped sulking in his room as much and made more of an effort to be a part of the team.

And yet, until he heard those words, he hadn't realized how much he had needed them. He could hear the echo of Yato's voice in his head: 'That's my kid! Isn't he great?' It was a bittersweet, tender ache.

"Lunch is ready," Daikoku announced, and they turned to blink at him. He shut the door behind him with his foot and balanced a tray of food in his hands. His eyes widened when he took them in. "What have you been doing?"

"Gardening, obviously!" Kofuku said.

He put the tray down on the table and glared at her. "You're covered in mud from head to foot. Both of you! What a mess! Will you at least wash up before we eat?"

They grumbled and fussed, but even Yukine consented to go inside and wash off. He slipped his grubby hand into his pocket and fingered the edge of the five yen coin.

He might have things to say today, if he could only decide what they were. He had until the end of lunch to come up with a wish.

A long time ago, Daikoku fell apart and began blighting Kofuku. He came to me for help because he heard that I could cut ties, and he needed some ties cut. I didn't even have a shinki, just a little knife, and I only pretended. The truth is that I didn't do anything at all, just made Daikoku think everything was better so that he could save himself.

Yukine came back to himself slowly, trembling and wrung out. His eyes felt achy and swollen, and he sucked at the air in a few more ragged gasps before calming his breathing to a hitching but manageable rate.

He scrubbed a hand across his eyes and stared down at the notebook. The thought of reading it cover to cover seemed unbearable right now.

Pushing himself to his feet, he stumbled across the room on shaky legs like a newborn calf, casting one last look over his shoulder at Yato's shrine before closing the door quietly behind him and heading down the stairs. He had been up here for a long time, and Kofuku and Daikoku must be wondering what had happened to him.

Kofuku took one look at his tearstained face and jumped to her feet. "Yukki! Are you alright?"

Yukine shied away, and she halted her approach. He swallowed hard. Should he tell them? Some large, selfish part of him wanted to keep this secret—all of Yato's secrets—to himself. And yet, Kofuku and Daikoku had shared so much with him, opening their hearts and home to him. It didn't seem right.

"I…found something," he croaked. "Upstairs."

Kofuku and Daikoku exchanged a puzzled look.

"Found what?" Daikoku asked carefully.

Yukine unfolded his arms and held out the notebook. "A notebook. It was under one of the floorboards. It's… Yato wrote it. He wrote a bunch of stuff. Secrets, feelings, things he was thinking. There's stuff about everyone in here. I didn't… I didn't read it all yet, just skimmed through it. But there's stuff about you too. Do you want…?"

No one said anything for a long time.

"About us?" Kofuku said wistfully, her eyes clouding over.

Yukine nodded and shuffled over. He sat down at the table, and the others slowly settled back to the ground beside him as he flipped through the pages.

He skimmed through the book, stopping to point out anything relating to Kofuku and Daikoku. They crowded around to look over his shoulder, eyes raw and hungry, and occasionally offered murmured commentary.

"I never once saw him lift a finger to do chores around here," Daikoku grumbled with a fleeting smile.

"I miss the disastrous duo," Kofuku said with a sniffle.

By the time they had finished, Kofuku was crying silently. Daikoku stared down very hard at the table.

Yukine closed the notebook. "He said he knew capypers weren't real and just pretended to annoy us," he said thickly, even though that had nothing to do with anything. "He just liked watching us dance around it."

Kofuku's crying hitched into a loud, ragged sob. "I miss him!" she wailed.

Daikoku draped an arm around her and pulled her closer. "It's not the same without him," he mumbled. "He was family too. Thank you for sharing that with us. It's…good to know."

Yukine bobbed his head silently and stood, clutching the notebook to his chest. He barely knew how to handle his own grief, much less theirs.

"I'll be back," he said. "Later. I'll work in the shop again, and it will be… Not the same, but better than it is now."

"That sounds good," Daikoku rasped, but Yukine was already backing away, fleeing from the shrine.

The notebook felt like a ton of bricks in his arms.

I would trust Kofuku and Daikoku with Yukine. That's why I brought him there, and it's kind of them to have made a home for him. If anything were to happen, I would trust them to take care of him.

Chapter Text

Bishamon & Kazuma

I was really surprised when Bishamon came all the way down to Yomi to try and rescue me. She had to have known it was a lost cause, that this was a fight she couldn't win, but she still put herself at risk to try saving me, despite all our differences. It meant a lot that someone would keep trying to save me even when there was no real hope.

Yukine pounded on the door to Bishamon's mansion. When no one answered fast enough, he banged some more. He had already checked with Tenjin and Ebisu and some of the others before begging a ride to Takamagahara, and he had turned up exactly nothing. But Bishamon and her crew patrolled the lower realm on a regular basis and maintained a constant presence in Takamagahara. If anyone had seen something, it would be them. The sick feeling that had nested in the pit of his stomach swelled and roiled. He had been afraid to come here because it was their best chance. If Bishamon hadn't seen anything either…

"Coming, coming," grumbled a voice from inside. "Calm down." Kinuha pushed the door open and fixed Yukine with an irritated look. "What–?"

"I need to talk to Bishamon or Kazuma," Yukine interrupted. "Right away."

Hot tears burned at the corners of his eyes again, threatening to leak out. They had been more or less continuous since he had gone to see Hiyori this morning and she had looked right through him before politely asking who he might be. He shouldn't cry, he reminded himself. It would hurt Yato. Giving in would mean that he thought Yato was gone, and he wasn't ready to admit that yet.

"Are you alright?" Kinuha asked, her exasperation melting away. "You look terrible."

"Just– I need to talk to them."

She gestured him inside. "Wait here, alright? I'll be right back."

She took off down the hallway at a brisk trot, and Yukine wedged himself into a corner to wait, shifting from foot to foot. He nearly followed after her, but for all his frantic impatience, he would grasp at anything to delay this for a moment more. A couple of shinki drifted past, but he pressed himself against the wall and no one paid him any mind. They all had their own lives to live, things to do. Yukine had too, until today. It seemed like his normal daily activities had just about run their course.

Kinuha reappeared a moment later and beckoned him back down the hall. "They'll see you now," she said.

"Thanks," he muttered, trotting after her.

She eyed him sidelong and offered him a fistful of tissues. She had never struck Yukine as the more empathetic type and had never shown much of an interest in him before, and the unexpected kindness of the gesture made him tear up again. He mumbled his thanks and took the tissues, scrubbing at his face and blowing his nose.

Kinuha led him down the hall and ushered him into Bishamon's study, closing the door softly behind him as she retreated again.

Bishamon looked up at him from behind her desk, and Kazuma rose from his chair and turned towards the door. They exchanged a quick look, eyebrows raised, and looked back to Yukine.

"What's wrong?" Bishamon asked.

"Have you seen Yato?" Yukine demanded.

"Not for days. Did he run off on his own again?"

"Yes. No. I don't know." Yukine fisted his hands in his hair, lips trembling. The panic was building again, leaving him feeling wild and unmoored. "I mean, I thought he did, and I was really annoyed about it, but he hasn't come back and…"

"Calm down, Yukine," Kazuma said, gently but firmly. "You know that getting worked up will only hurt Yato."

"I hope that it does!"

"That's not very kind. You know how he is. Sometimes he disappears for a while, but he always comes back when he's ready."

"But I'm not sure that he will!" Yukine said, raw anguish making his voice bleak. He hoped he was hurting Yato, because that meant Yato still existed to be hurt. But if Yato could feel Yukine's panic, wouldn't he have come back? "It's– I saw Hiyori today, and she didn't remember me or Yato. He's been missing for days and I've been so annoyed with him, but Hiyori doesn't remember. What if…?"

Nearly identical expressions of alarm crossed Bishamon's and Kazuma's faces.

"Hiyori doesn't remember anything?" Bishamon asked.

Yukine shook his head. "She's been so busy lately, and I know her life has been moving on, but… I can't believe she just forgot. And this whole time I've been mad at Yato, and he's…"

"Doesn't he have any more believers by now?" Kazuma asked. "It's been years, and you've worked hard at it."

"I don't– I don't know. It's hard to tell. I mean, people definitely remember him more, at least here and there. But stable believers? I don't know… I think that was only ever his dad and Hiyori, and without them… But he could still just be wandering around on his own! He does that sometimes. Not as much as he used to, but maybe… So I was hoping that if maybe you had seen him recently…"

Bishamon and Kazuma exchanged another look, and Yukine did not like the grim set of their lips.

"We haven't seen him," Bishamon said slowly, and the air rushed out of Yukine in a whoosh, his body crumpling around him. "But we also haven't been looking. We could keep an eye out for him."

"You could help me look, couldn't you?" Yukine asked, hanging on to one last sliver of hope.

Kazuma could always be persuaded to do favors for Yato, and even Bishamon had mellowed towards him. They'd had years to lay old grudges to rest, and even though Yato and Bishamon still bickered, they had developed their own kind of friendship. Even Yukine had eventually let go of Kazuma's and Bishamon's transgressions while hunting Yato's dad, more or less. Things had worked out in the end, they had survived, and broken bonds had been mended. Surely, they would help now.

"Of course," Bishamon said, her eyes gentle. "We will help you look."

But even with everyone out looking, no one found any sign of Yato. And truthfully, Yukine did not really expect them too. Not after he found Yato's phone in their room. All of Yato's things were left behind—things he would never have left home without.

Yukine did not advertise this piece of information. Bishamon and her team were the best chance they had of finding some sign of Yato, and if she knew that the chances of finding him alive had dwindled to almost nothing… Well, Yukine thought Yato was gone, but that didn't mean he was giving up just yet. He couldn't bear to stop looking.

So he did not tell Bishamon, but when she stopped by the shrine to check in while he was still out searching the streets, Kofuku did. Yukine came back to Bishamon and Kazuma sitting with Kofuku and Daikoku in the kitchen, faces grim as they discussed the issue of the phone.

"You can't stop looking!" Yukine cried, bursting into the room and making them all jump.

Everyone looked tired and sad and resigned. He hated it.

"I want to find Yato-chan too," Kofuku said, "but don't you think–?"

"He could still be out there somewhere!"

Kofuku sighed and leaned her head against Daikoku's arm. She looked more careworn than Yukine had ever seen her.

"We still have a job to do, Yukine," Kazuma said, eyes shining with regret. "We can't abandon our duties forever if it's unlikely that he's coming back."

Yukine's vision went blurry, and he blinked rapidly to clear the tears. "He might still show up," he insisted, but his voice sounded shaky and raw to his own ears. "Maybe he's in trouble somewhere, and that's why he hasn't come back."

Kazuma opened his mouth, closed it again. Kofuku shut her eyes.

"Look, Yukine," Bishamon said gently. "We need to attend to our duties as well. We've let some things slide lately. But we'll keep an eye out while we're working, and we can keep looking around for him in our spare time. Alright?"

Yukine's lips trembled as he nodded. He wasn't sure if she was just humoring him or really meant it, but it was kind of her to say so when she knew it was a lost cause.

Truthfully, I respect the way Bishamon handles her shinki. I mean, it's risky and maybe kind of stupid, but the way she's built a family with them is sweet, and it's impressive that she can handle so many at a time.

Yukine mashed his lips into a tight, unyielding line, clenched his fists at his sides, and held Bishamon's gaze steadily. She looked uneasy but thoughtful.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked.

Yukine did not feel sure at all, but he didn't see that he had much of a choice. It had been weeks with no sign of Yato, and even Yukine's stubbornness could only hold out for so long before turning to delusion. He knew Yato was gone, had known for a while now, and refusing to accept it didn't make it any less true.

Even once he had called off the search, he had waited a few more weeks. Maybe partly because some naïve part of him cherished the unspoken, feverish hope that Yato might still turn up one day when they least expected it, laughing at the whole debacle like one big joke. If that happened, it would be bad news if Yukine had already moved on.

But Yukine knew that was only a fantastical daydream. Mostly, he took the time to grieve. He needed some space, to drift unattached in his misery with only Kofuku and Daikoku to murmur and fuss over him from time to time. He couldn't jump straight to another master right away, and any new master wouldn't thank him for the constant pain of his grief.

Now, though, he realized that he was stuck in place. He had done as much as he reasonably could in his crucible of solitude, and now he was just drifting in circles and moping. To move on, he needed to jar himself out of his comfortable melancholy and get back to living. Kofuku and Daikoku had begun bringing up the topic more and more frequently too, even if they did it gently and backed off when he resisted. But he knew they were right.

"Yes, of course," he said.

Bishamon exchanged a look with Kazuma, who seemed unconvinced. Yukine shot an uneasy glance over his shoulder at the closed door behind him, needled by the irrational fear that one of Bishamon's many shinki might have their ear pressed to the other side, listening in on his private shame. He hadn't even told Kofuku and Daikoku that today was the day before running off. While he could have used their support, he didn't want them to actually witness this.

"Are you sure you don't need more time?" Kazuma asked. "You've suffered a great loss, and once you take a new master, that loss will become theirs too and you won't be able to leave your feelings unchecked any longer."

Yukine didn't take offense. Kazuma didn't want Bishamon to be hurt, any more than Yukine would have been happy to watch a new shinki hurt Yato. And there was a deeper truth layered there as well: once Yukine had to worry about hurting a new master with his grief, he wouldn't be able to dwell on his emotions freely anymore. But perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing. They weren't abating fast enough, and it did no good to dwell on them if they would end up ultimately pushing him over the line.

"I understand," he said evenly. "And I would be a nora, so there's also that consideration."

Bishamon flapped her hand impatiently and stood, rounding the desk to stand beside Kazuma. "That's not an issue. I would, of course, be happy to offer you a name if that's really what you want. We would be happy to welcome you into the family. I just want to make sure that you're ready first and have thought through your options, because it will be difficult enough without having regrets later."

"I've thought about it," he mumbled, looking at the floor.

He could have taken Kofuku up on her offer, but… Well, she and Daikoku had already done so much for him. He didn't think Daikoku would object to Kofuku naming him the same way he had back in the very beginning, but it would still shift the dynamics. Kofuku might get in trouble with the heavens for naming another shinki, and she didn't deserve more hassle. She probably wouldn't be able to use Yukine in his vessel form either, for fear of storms and bad luck, and while Yukine still didn't truly feel like working with anyone besides Yato, he thought he would like some kind of partnership again someday. He liked having a purpose.

He still might have chosen to stay with Kofuku and Daikoku despite all that, but that shrine was full of ghosts now. When he woke in the morning, he expected to hear Yato mumbling in his sleep on the other side of the room. When he woke gasping from nightmares, he expected Yato to sit up with him until he calmed down. When he sat at the table to eat dinner with Kofuku and Daikoku, he expected Yato to come charging down the stairs to inhale his portion. When he was doing chores, he expected Yato to come sneaking through the window, hoping no one would notice him.

Hiyori's presence lingered too, although more faintly than it might have a couple of years ago. She hadn't been spending as much time at the shrine as she moved on with her life and grew busier and busier, and often they had met at her place or to go out instead. But Yukine could still catch glimpses of her out of the corner of his eye or hear snatches of her muffled voice if he ever lost his focus and drifted away from the present. She had built a home and family with them, and she was woven into the fabric of the shrine as much as any of the rest of them.

It was driving Yukine crazy. As much as he loved Kofuku and Daikoku and their home, he couldn't take living among the reminders of all he'd lost day in and day out. Sometimes the air got thin and hard to breathe inside, until he worried he'd choke on it. He needed a way out, at least until he figured out how to cope with it.

Kazuma sighed. "You have to be ready to integrate with the team and get your emotions under control.

"I know."

He didn't look entirely convinced, but he didn't offer further protest.

"Right, then," Bishamon said. "Let's do it."

Yukine squeezed his eyes shut, and he didn't open them until it was over. This might be necessary, but it still twisted a knife in his heart. He did his best to smooth the pain away, but he didn't look at Bishamon to see if his discomfort showed on her face.

The new name had inked itself across the back of his hand, much like Kazuma's. He didn't look at it too closely. It itched, and he felt like a second, ill-fitting skin had settled over him, too tight in some places and loose in others. Everything felt just a little bit off, like the world had tilted a couple of degrees and he was seeing everything from a slightly skewed angle.

He didn't realize he was trembling until Bishamon put a hand on his arm.

"Come on," she said gently. "Let me take you to your room, and you can have a few minutes to yourself. It's not really made up for you yet, but we'll set it up later and you can get your things from Kofuku's."

He shut himself in the room she showed him to, curling into a tight ball on the bed and struggling to breathe. Even his breathing and heartbeat felt out of sync, too fast or too slow or too painful or something. He tried not to spiral downwards, he really did, but tears dripped down his face anyway.

Taking another name was a new beginning, but it was an ending too. He pressed his fingertips to his old name—true name—stamped on his collarbone, and wondered how he would be forced to change and adapt to this new life. Wondered what he would be forced to leave behind.

He had pledged his eternal loyalty to Yato, and he had meant it. Yato was his master and friend and something like a father. Yato and Hiyori and Kofuku and Daikoku were family. It hurt to sever those ties. Maybe he wasn't ready, after all, to let that go and put his best foot forward with Bishamon.

But he also had no choice, so he cried silently for an hour or two and wished fiercely that Yato would walk in the door and then dried his eyes.

Kazuma did not scold Yukine when he saw his reddened eyes, and Bishamon did not comment. They took him back to Kofuku's shrine despite his halfhearted protests.

"You're upset," Bishamon said. "We'll go with you. Anyway, I'd like to talk to Kofuku."

Yukine just sighed. He had bigger problems.

Kofuku burst into tears when she saw him. "You should have told us," she said. "We would have come with you. You don't have to do everything alone."

Yukine did not tell her that he was going to have to start learning to do things without her and Daikoku if he was joining a new household. This had seemed like a good place to start.

"Sorry," he said. "I just wanted to get it over with."

"You'll be moving straightaway?" Daikoku asked. When Yukine nodded, he added, "Make sure you come back to visit. Can we help you pack?"

"No, that's okay. I don't have much."

"It's going to be so empty without you too!" Kofuku wailed, and Daikoku looped an arm around her.

Yukine averted his gaze and mumbled his excuses, escaping upstairs to pack while the other gods and shinki talked. He went through his room slowly, packing away all of his things and putting everything into order. He made it take as long as possible before slinking back downstairs.

Kofuku's eyes were red, but she wasn't crying anymore. Daikoku looked tired and grim.

Bishamon looked at Yukine over their heads as he trudged down the stairs. "Have everything?"

"Yeah." Yukine hesitated, then shifted Yato's shrine to one arm to hug Kofuku with the other. "Thanks for everything. I'll miss you, but I'll come back to visit."

Kofuku began sniffling again and threw her arms around him. "You'd better! You'll do great with Bisha, I know you will. But you have a place here too."

Yukine swallowed hard and nodded. Daikoku rested a hand on his shoulder, and Yukine stiffened. In another world, Yato would have been the one throwing an arm around his shoulders and laughing: 'That's my kid!'

"Do your best," Daikoku said. "And let us know if you need anything. We'll be here for whatever you need."

"Of course," Yukine said, looking away and disentangling himself. "Thanks."

When he glanced up, he noticed Kazuma narrowing his eyes at him.

"Leave the shrine, Yukine."

Yukine stared at him. "What?"

"Leave Yato's shrine here. It's not proper to bring another god's shrine into a god's home, especially one you're pledged to. You can come back and visit it here."

Yukine held the shrine tighter, his heart jumping into his throat. "No way! I'll keep it."

Kazuma blew out a breath. "Kofuku never minded having it here, but it will be a distraction in Bishamon's home. You need to connect with her and our family, and that will be a process. It will already be hard enough without clinging to the remnants of your former master."

"Kazuma–" Bishamon started.

"No. This is unfortunate but necessary. Yato's shrine will be a focus for grief and nostalgia for the past. It will hinder the process of integrating with our team. When he has settled in and found his place with us, he can retrieve it if he still wants to. Until then, I think it would be best if he focuses on forming a relationship with you and the others. He is Yato's hafuri first and foremost, and developing the same kind of loyalty to you will take time. It will take longer if he is still holding on to all the pieces of Yato that he has left."

"That's stupid," Yukine snarled, backing away and glaring. "The shrine is mine now. I won't let it go."

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm worried about," Kazuma said with a sigh. His expression was tired and regretful and careworn, but it had a steely edge to it. He wasn't going to back down. "You said you were ready to start setting your grief aside and forming a new relationship with us. Leave your old one behind until you've made progress on that. You need to leave room for us. When you've achieved that, you will be able to hold what's left of Yato while maintaining your place with us."

Yukine had never hated Kazuma more than he did in that moment, not even the first betrayal using spells to make him spill secrets about Yato's father.

"Leave me alone," he snarled. "Who are you to tell me that? You can't just make me get rid of Yato's things. They're mine now."

Bishamon leaned in close to Kazuma. "Is this a fight worth having right now?" she asked softly. "While he's still so upset?"

Kazuma set his mouth in a grim line. "It will be less painful if we nip it in the bud now."

"He's right, Yukki," Kofuku said quietly, and Yukine whipped around to blink at her in disbelief. She pursed her lips and looked away. "Worshipping at the shrine of one god in another's home is disrespectful without having an understanding. I never minded, but you also weren't pledged to me. But more than that… If you hang on to Yato-chan too tightly now, you won't leave room to form the bonds you need to with Bisha and her shinki. Give her a chance first. We can keep Yato-chan's shrine here for now, and you can come visit it whenever you want. It's okay to remember Yato-chan, but do it here and focus on Bisha in her space. Maybe you can bring it back with you later, when Bisha thinks it's okay."

Yukine gaped at her, the betrayal rendering him speechless.

Daikoku glanced between the gods and Kazuma and then looked at Yukine. "We'll take care of it," he said. "Maybe we can reassess in a few weeks and see where things stand, but we should defer to our gods' judgment, don't you think?"

Yukine's trembling hands tightened on the shrine until the wood creaked. "I hate you all," he rasped, low and angry and sure.

His eyes flashed as he stomped across the room and thrust the shrine into Kofuku's hands. He could fight it, hang on and never let go, but with everyone arrayed against him, he felt backed into a corner and helpless. He regretted it as soon as the shrine left his hands, wishing his anger hadn't pushed him into rashly throwing it into their faces, but his pride wouldn't let him change his mind or beg for it back.

He turned on his heel and stormed past Bishamon and Kazuma back outside into the sunlight, leaving Kofuku crying behind him.

I would rather die than admit this, but I used to catch glimpses of Bishamon around when I was a kid, and I always looked up to her. Just a little bit. She seemed like the kind of god I would have wanted to be, if things had been different.

"You have to listen," Kazuma said, frustration making his voice sharp. "When you're working in a team, you have to work together. Let me guide you. I coordinate everyone. I need you to– Hey! Where are you going?"

Yukine stalked off without a backwards look. "Leave me alone. You aren't my boss."

"Well, actually…"

"Leave it, for now," Bishamon murmured.

"He can't just storm off in a huff whenever he doesn't get his way. He needs to know his place on the team."

"I understand that, but let it go for today."

"But–"

"Kazuma."

Kazuma sighed. "He's going to get hurt if he doesn't start putting his heart into it. Or get you or one of us hurt."

"I know. Let it go for now."

Yukine pushed his way into the mansion, and the heavy doors shut on the conversation outside. He strode past the twins and Kinuha lingering in the hallway, whispering together and eyeing him sidelong. They could gossip all they wanted.

He had messed up again while hunting ayakashi, badly enough for Bishamon to send them home early and Kazuma to launch into yet another lecture. Bishamon might take the rest of the crew out to finish the job without him. He hadn't asked.

No one was hurt, at least, but it had been a close thing. He just couldn't stand waiting around for Kazuma's orders when he thought he saw a better way. The problem was that if he took the initiative to strike on his own, it inevitably threw a wrench into whatever Kazuma was trying to do, sending everything tumbling down around their ears. Yukine did not like working with a team and listening to a constant stream of instructions, and it didn't help that he was still angry about the shrine affair and not in the mood to take orders from Kazuma.

Kuraha opened his mouth as Yukine swept by, but was soundly ignored. The twins had been charged with making Yukine feel at home and introducing him to all the other shinki living in the mansion, and Kuraha was supposed to be his mentor and a steady guiding presence. Yukine had not given them the benefit of his full cooperation thus far, although he was less hostile than to Kazuma's advances.

He went to his room and slammed the door shut behind him with a satisfying bang. Yato's cash bottle sat on the small desk, and he gave it a gentle shake as he passed by, just to hear the coins clatter together inside. Then he collapsed on the bed and buried his face in the pillow, breathing harshly into the silence as he fought down his anger. His hand slid into his pocket and closed around the hard plastic case of Yato's phone. He held it to his ear and pulled up the voicemail greeting.

"Hello! Thank you for calling! Fast, affordable, and reliable! Delivery god Yato at your service! Leave a message, and I'll get back to you right away!"

Yato's tinny voice was jarring in the silence. Yukine played it again, and again. This was the only snippet of Yato's voice he had left, and it was better than nothing. He couldn't hold a conversation with Yato anymore, but at least he wouldn't forget the sound of his voice. Some days it filled in the cracks in his heart, and others it only made them yawn wider. Today, it hurt.

Kazuma and the others were silly to have focused only on the shrine. Yukine could hang on to Yato just as tenaciously through the name stamped on his collarbone and the coins they had painstakingly earned one job at a time and the messages lodged in the phone Yato had carried everywhere. He could even scroll through the text messages when he was in the mood, but he couldn't bear to read Hiyori's responses most days.

He stayed curled up in bed for a long time, only moving to wriggle beneath the covers and draw them tight around him. What else could he do? Kofuku and Daikoku and Kazuma had betrayed him, Bishamon wasn't Yato, Hiyori was off living her own life, and the other shinki here who he'd once been friendly with only seemed intrusive when he was stuck working with them. He wanted the life he'd had before, and that wasn't coming back.

It was a long time later when someone knocked on his door. He kept quiet and hoped whoever it was would assume he was gone or take the hint and go away. They did not. The knock came again, and then the door opened and closed quietly. He kept his face pressed into the pillow, hoping that if he ignored the intruder, they would tiptoe back out.

"Don't mind Kazuma," Bishamon said. "He can be strict, but he's just worried about you. He means well."

Yukine sighed into his pillow. He did not want to talk about Kazuma. But he sat up and stared sullenly at the floor beside Bishamon's feet. She was technically his master now, and he was doing his best to give her a grudging kind of obedience out of respect for that. Even if she wasn't Yato.

"Yeah," he grumbled. "Fine."

Bishamon stood still for a minute, considering something, and then said, "Come with me. We're going on a mission."

Yukine looked up at her then, wary. "Doing what?"

Her eyes glittered solemnly as she regarded him. "We're going to hunt some ayakashi together, just you and I."

"We…are?" Yukine asked, puzzled. Bishamon never went hunting anything without a full complement of shinki, and she went almost nowhere without at least Kazuma trailing after her. "Why?"

"Kazuma isn't wrong: you need to learn how to work with us as part of a team. But you're used to working solo with just Yato. You're used to having more freedom of movement and choice rather than following someone's instructions, because you worked with Yato so closely that you two could anticipate each other's moves and alter course if you saw something the other didn't. When you're working with a team, you need to follow the coordinator's lead, and that is Kazuma. But it's good to have someone still thinking independently too, who can take the lead or make a quick judgment call if necessary. The rest of my shinki are well-conditioned to follow Kazuma's orders. You are not, so you will be that independent mind.

"In order to make those kinds of decisions, though, you need to be able to work with me like you would have worked with Yato, so we're going to go out together and get used to each other's style of fighting. With the caveat that you do need to follow Kazuma's orders and be a team player. But I'd like to develop a good one-on-one working relationship with you as well, like you're used to. I think that will help you find your place on the team too, and you'll be able to see why Kazuma gives the direction he does once you're used to my fighting patterns. I think it's worth a shot, don't you?"

Yukine stared at her, mouth slightly agape. He had not expected such an empathetic, reasoned answer. Bishamon was trying to meet him halfway, looking for a way to connect with him when he had been steadfastly holding himself apart. He hadn't expected it of her. Maybe he should have. She had always cared about her shinki and tried to connect with them, and she had become more adept at it over the years. Perhaps he had just never quite thought of himself as her shinki yet. He still thought of himself as Yato's.

But if she was going to try, he owed her at least that much. After all, he was her shinki now, and he'd requested it himself. Sooner or later, he would have to start acting like it.

"Kazuma agreed to it?" he wondered aloud. It didn't sound like something Kazuma would approve of.

A sheepish smile stole over Bishamon's face. "He doesn't know yet. I'll talk to him after. For now, it's just between you and me."

Despite himself, Yukine felt a reluctant smile quirking his lips upward in return. He wouldn't mind keeping a little secret from Kazuma, even if only for a little while. It felt strangely satisfying to be doing something he wouldn't approve of after having to listen to him bark orders all day.

"Well, okay," he said. "I guess we can try it."

Bishamon's smile turned a little hesitant, and she beckoned him out of the room after her. She strode down the hall with quick, purposeful strides, smiling and greeting the shinki she passed, and Yukine followed more quietly behind, trying to hide in her shadow. They made it down to the lower realm unmolested.

"Kazuma doesn't like when I wander the lower realm alone," Bishamon commented as they walked down the street. She watched a little girl waving her stuffed toy in her mother's face and smiled. "He worries something terrible."

"He likes to be in control," Yukine muttered.

She snorted. "That too."

They found an ayakashi the next street over. When Bishamon summoned him, the name on her tongue sounded strange and ill-fitting, but she said it gently. Yukine obeyed. Bishamon had allowed him the courtesy of keeping the name he wanted in his daily life, and he needed to accept the one he was summoned by in exchange.

His form was not that unfamiliar. He had retained swords as his vessel form, and he knew how to be a sword. Bishamon's hands felt unfamiliar around him, though, and the way she held him felt awkward. Different. But he supposed that was what they were trying to change.

They took down the ayakashi, but messily. They were out of sync, moving just a little out of time with each other. Bishamon did not fight like Yato did. Her gestures were sharper, more practicality than artistry, and her favored strokes were different. But in her defense, Yukine supposed that he didn't fight like her other shinki either. She was used to having an entire team and Kazuma for guidance. She was a competent swordsman, but she favored other weapons these days. Matching Yukine's rhythm did not come naturally to her either.

Yukine steeled himself and did his best. They reached out, testing each other, learning each other's shapes and movements.

By the time Bishamon called a halt and released Yukine back to his human form, they had found an uneasy truce. They were still an awkward pair, but they were meeting somewhere in the middle and had taken out the later ayakashi with more ease.

"That was good," Bishamon said. "I think we've made some progress."

"It's a start."

"Yes." She hesitated and then added, "I know you're angry with Kazuma about the shrine, and you have a right to be. You just have to understand… He thinks it's for the best. If you're hanging on too tightly to Yato, we won't have the chance to get used to each other without him getting in the way. I honestly have no problem with you bringing his shrine here, and you're welcome to once Kazuma thinks you're ready. We have different ideas on how to help you mesh with our family, and we don't always agree. But we all have your best interests at heart too. Don't be too hard on him."

Yukine huffed out a breath. "Whatever."

"I know that your loyalty is to Yato first and might always be. You pledged your loyalty to him, and you were his hafuri. I know that taking another master isn't easy for you. But give us a chance, Yukine. Give me a chance to earn your loyalty too, and we can be a good team. It might take time, and that's okay. I'm never going to replace him, and it's not disloyal for you to live on with another master now that he's gone. We can make it work."

Yukine swallowed hard and looked away, his eyes misting over. He wanted Yato so badly that it hurt.

"I liked Yato too," Bishamon said. "We had our differences and didn't always get along, but he was a good ally, and eventually a friend. I respected him a lot, and I enjoyed working with him despite the hassle. We had a rocky start, but grew a lot closer over the years. You and I too, right? We had some rough times with the sorcerer, but we've patched things up since then. And Kazuma always had an incredible amount of respect for him.

"We won't be the same. You know that. I think you'll like being part of a team, if you give it a chance, and having friends around would be good for you. But I know you're also used to being someone's one and only. We can meet somewhere in the middle. You should try to integrate with the team. And realize that Kazuma is my hafuri and outranks you here, the same way you would have outranked anyone else with Yato, and you need to follow his directions. But I would like to develop a personal relationship with you. If you're upset, you can talk to me the way you would have talked to Yato. And we can do this again sometimes, go out just the two of us. It won't be the same, but we can build that kind of relationship too, alright?"

Yukine sniffed and dragged a hand across his eyes. He had enjoyed fighting one-on-one again, just him and his god. It wasn't the same, but that didn't mean it couldn't be good. It was kind of Bishamon to be willing to put in so much effort for one black sheep. He didn't think he'd ever be able to talk to her or fight with her the same way he had with Yato, but maybe they could find their own way. And as long as he had that, maybe he could figure out the team situation too.

"Alright," he croaked. "I'd like that."

Bishamon smiled at him, and he smiled shakily back.

The next day, Yukine joined the team without complaint. Kazuma opened his mouth, looking like he was ready to pick up yesterday's lecture where he'd left off, but then took a deep breath and closed it again.

"I'll do my best," Yukine muttered.

Kazuma eyed him sidelong, eyebrows raised, but didn't comment.

And Yukine did. He did his best to follow Bishamon's lead from the tentative rhythm they'd worked out yesterday, and he followed Kazuma's instructions to the letter. Even when he thought he saw a better way, he let it go and followed orders. Someday, he might be trusted enough to make his own judgment calls, but for now he tried not to make waves.

"You did well," Kazuma said when they called a halt for the day. He regarded Yukine curiously. "You've improved overnight."

Yukine scowled and looked away. He could feel Bishamon's amusement.

"That was great!" Karuha said, beaming.

"Loads better than yesterday," her brother added.

Yukine huffed and shot a glance at Bishamon. She smiled at him.

"Welcome to the team, Yukine," Kazuma said more gently, and he smiled too.

Yukine looked away, but he let the twins drag him inside and consented to eat lunch with them and a handful of the others. If he was going to be part of this team, he might as well do his best.

I would have loved to have a shinki like Kazuma. Maybe there was a time or two when I thought that I might have listened to Hiiro and made him a nora or told Bishamon the truth and taken him in if she rejected him, but… I did not do those things. Kazuma did a lot for me, and I wouldn't do that to him. He always came back and he was my friend, and that was enough.

When the knock came at his door, Yukine hastily shoved the notebook under his pillow and scrubbed the tears off his face.

"Yes?"

The door swung open a couple of inches, and Bishamon peered inside. "May we come in?"

"Sure."

She pushed the door the rest of the way open and stepped inside. Kazuma trailed after her, closing the door again behind them. They looked at him and then exchanged a glance.

"Are you…alright?" Bishamon ventured.

"Yes, of course." Yukine straightened up and tamped down the storm swirling inside him. "Am I hurting you? Sorry."

He expected that was why Kazuma had accompanied her. Kazuma was all about subtle and not-so-subtle reminders to keep his emotions under control. But Kazuma's face was not lined with disapproval today. If anything, he looked politely concerned.

"Never mind that," Bishamon said. She crossed the floor, hesitated, and then perched on the end of the bed a healthy distance away. "We knew the anniversary would be difficult."

"We just wanted to check in on you," Kazuma added, shifting uneasily.

He and Yukine had slowly reached more of an understanding over the past year, but this was a little outside his comfort zone. His default was still to suppress emotions and not hurt Bishamon.

"I'm fine," Yukine muttered.

"You don't feel fine," Bishamon said gently, and he looked away. "I know it's not the same, but you can talk to me too."

Yukine had not really taken Bishamon up on her offer to talk through his feelings and problems before. It didn't feel right. He had only ever really let his guard down like that with Yato and Hiyori, and even then it had been occasional and difficult. Yato had always said to talk things out instead of bottling them up, but Yato wasn't here anymore.

"How did it go with Kofuku and Daikoku?" Kazuma asked. "Did you at least have a nice time? I mean, well… Not nice, just…"

The barest hint of a dry smile tugged at Yukine's mouth. "It's fine. I get it. And yeah, it went okay. It's always nice to see them. I was thinking that maybe I could visit more frequently and start helping in the shop again. You know, when we aren't patrolling and things here."

"I think that's a great idea," Bishamon said. "You can have your own life outside these walls too. Kofuku and Daikoku are your family too."

"As long as it doesn't interfere with your responsibilities…" Kazuma shrugged. "I think it's a good idea too."

They lapsed into awkward silence, no one sure what to say.

Then Bishamon took a fortifying breath. "If there's anything we could help with, let us know. You don't have to do everything on your own, you know. We'd like to be able to help."

Yukine looked at her and let out a breath of his own. She and Kazuma and the other shinki had done their best to make him feel welcome and include him in their family. Maybe it was time that he offered something in return.

"Something did happen, actually," he muttered.

"What's that?" Kazuma asked.

Yukine hesitated and then pulled the notebook out from beneath his pillow, running his hands over the cover. "I found this under one of the floorboards in our old room. Yato… Yato wrote it. It's just a bunch of random things and observations. Things he thought about. Things about himself, or what he thought about us. I've been… I've been reading it. That's probably what… I thought I'd be able to handle today, but this caught me by surprise, I guess. It's just…like seeing a whole new side to him, the things he didn't tell us. I wish he'd told me himself, while he was still here."

The tears were welling up in his eyes again, and he tried vainly to swallow them down. The ache was still too new and raw and bittersweet. Yato felt just close enough to touch, but also impossibly far away. Yukine wanted him so badly right now that it took his breath away.

"I'm sorry." Bishamon reached out and placed her fingers lightly on his arm. "It's hard to find pieces of someone once they're gone. You want to know someone when they're still around, not when it's too late."

"Yato didn't like to talk about serious things," Kazuma said with a sigh. "He was always like that. I'm surprised he even wrote any of it down. But he opened up a lot more once you and Hiyori were in the picture. He might have told you more himself, if he'd had enough time to come around to the idea. Or maybe he wanted you to find it someday."

Yukine didn't know. He'd like to think that Yato might have told him these things eventually, one bit at a time. In truth, Yato had. Not these specifically, but other, smaller things. He had opened up a little more over the years. But the deep feelings or complications of his past… Those were things he hadn't liked to share with anyone. Maybe if they'd had a decade, a century… Maybe then they would have shared it all.

But Yukine didn't know. Maybe it didn't matter. It would never happen now. This was what he was left with. And while it wasn't exactly the intimacy he wished they could have had, it was something. Yato had left him a collection of fragments, of thoughts and feelings and secrets, that he could try to puzzle out if he so desired. And Yukine did. Even if Yato was gone, Yukine still wanted to understand him, feel a little closer. It was a gift with sharp edges that tasted of cobwebs and dust, old and outdated and past its usefulness, but it was still important to Yukine.

"He wrote some things about you guys too," Yukine said. "Would you like to see?"

He was no great solver of puzzles, and maybe these pieces belonged to the people they were about as much as they did to him.

Bishamon bit her lip. Kazuma closed his eyes, and then sat down on Yukine's other side.

"Yes," he said, and his voice sounded rough. "If you don't mind."

Yukine flipped through the book slowly, pointing out whatever caught his eye. Bishamon followed along in silence. Kazuma occasionally offered a comment or short huff of laughter.

Bishamon looked away when they were finished. "He, ah…" Her voice caught, and she cleared her throat. "He was an annoying bastard, but he was a good friend. He came through for us many times. And I…respected him too."

"It's so like him," Kazuma said with a laugh like a sigh. He didn't offer any further explanation of what he meant by that. "Thank you for sharing. Would you…like to hear some other stories too? I knew him for a long time, and I have all kinds of stories. I didn't want you to get too caught up in mourning him, so I didn't offer before, but if you need…"

Yukine looked at him with new eyes. "Like what?" he asked, voice trembling.

It had never really occurred to him to ask Kazuma or anyone else about their experiences with Yato. Kazuma had known Yato for ages. Kofuku and Daikoku and Tenjin and even Bishamon had known him far longer than Yukine had. Now that Yato was gone, their memories and the things he'd left behind were all they had left of him.

These fragments tucked between the pages of the notebook were precious, but maybe they weren't all Yukine had left. Maybe Kazuma had some pieces of his own too, and all the others. Maybe if Yukine asked, they could all give him a little insight, a little closure.

Kazuma's smile was a little sad, and he looked away. "Well, this was a few hundred years ago, but…"

Yukine leaned in close, enraptured, ready to gather up all the pieces and fit them into the puzzle that was Yato.

For a long time, Kazuma was the only one who believed in me. Even when he thought I was crazy, he never said so. He supported all my schemes and encouraged me to try again when I failed, and that's why I kept trying.

Chapter Text

Hiyori

Hiyori is amazing, but she's only human. One day, I know she'll forget or die, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. It's just human nature. It scares me. I don't want to lose her. But I guess all we can do is make the most of the time we have.

Yukine puffed out his cheeks and glared out the window of his room. Yato had been gone for days on whatever secret errands he was running this time, Hiyori had apparently been too busy to come over when she'd said she would, and Yukine had cleaned the shrine top to bottom and reorganized the entire shop out of boredom until Daikoku finally kicked him out and told him to do something fun instead of working all day.

But what was he supposed to do? He did fun things with Yato and Hiyori, mostly. He could usually entertain himself, but not while impatience gnawed at his insides. He was just waiting around for Yato and Hiyori to show up, stuck in a holding pattern until they came back to pick up their lives where they'd left off. Yukine was sick of it.

Coming to a snap decision—although one that had perhaps been building for days—he jumped to his feet and turned away from the window. He knew full well that Yato would not be found if he didn't want to be and it was useless to look for him, but he knew where Hiyori would be. He had left her alone when she missed her visit because she was so busy these days that he assumed something had come up and didn't want to bother her—she would come visit as soon as she could, probably bearing gifts and apologies—but he was tired of waiting. At the very least, he could ask when she was planning to stop by so that he had some idea, and he could let her know that Yato had wandered off again. It was something to do, anyway.

He checked Hiyori's apartment first, but it was empty. Not a total surprise. Hiyori practically lived at the hospital when she wasn't sleeping or visiting with gods or friends. Yukine didn't much like the hospital—it was too sterile and depressing, filled with hurting people who suffered louder than the miracles the doctors performed every day—but he headed there next.

As luck would have it, he actually spotted Hiyori a block away, walking down the sidewalk and chatting with one of her doctor friends. Yukine supposed it must be nearing lunchtime. While Hiyori often brought her own lunch to eat in the cafeteria, sometimes she escaped to eat at a restaurant with friends or coworkers when things were slower.

Yukine was glad that he didn't have to venture into the hospital, but he didn't want to interrupt Hiyori and her friend either. He hesitated, debating what to do. Catch Hiyori's attention and call her aside? Follow her and wait until the other doctor left or they returned to the hospital? Stroll right up and let her come up with an explanation for who he was?

By some stroke of luck, he didn't have to decide. Hiyori's companion waved goodbye and turned down another street, while she continued on. Yukine hurried after her.

"Hiyori! Hey, Hiyori!"

She didn't look over, instead pulling her phone out of her pocket and scrolling through it as she walked briskly down the sidewalk. Yukine didn't understand how she could read on her phone and still keep track of people's feet so that she didn't run into anyone. He would have walked straight into the first lamppost in his path.

"Hey," he said again, trotting up to Hiyori and falling into step beside her. "What's so interesting that you can't even hear me calling you?"

She didn't acknowledge him, and he scowled.

"Helloooo." He waved his hand in her face, and she startled and looked up from her phone, drawing to a stop and blinking at him in consternation.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, her voice lilting upwards like a question. "I didn't see you there. Can I help you?"

Yukine squinted at her. "You okay? You're acting a little weird. And you never came by when you said you would. I figured you must have gotten busy at the hospital."

The look of confusion on her face only deepened. "Excuse me? What meeting was I supposed to be at?"

"…At Kofuku's? You know, to see me and Yato?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Have we met? If you have a medical issue, I'm off duty right now, but I'd be happy to point you in the right direction."

Yukine stared at her. "Hiyori…? What's going on? It's me. Yukine."

Hiyori smiled awkwardly. "Sorry, I have a lot of patients, and I'm bad with names. You might have to refresh my memory."

Yukine's heart plummeted into his stomach, and a wave of nausea washed over him. "You don't remember me?" Another thought occurred to him, and he thought he might throw up right there. "You don't remember Yato?"

Hiyori eyed him with wary concern, like she was worried he was some troubled lunatic who might need to be admitted to a psych ward. "I'm afraid not," she said kindly. "Could you refresh my memory?"

Yukine took a step back, and then another. The blood was rushing so loudly in his ears that he could barely hear her. She didn't remember him. She didn't remember Yato.

And Yato had been missing for days.

It couldn't be.

He turned on his heel and ran, sneakers slapping against the pavement, racing back to Kofuku's shrine to spill out his panic.

I have fun drawing capypers on random pages of Hiyori's assignments and seeing how long it takes her to find them. I probably shouldn't laugh so hard, but her reactions are hilarious.

"Please, don't you remember anything?" Yukine begged, scrubbing the tears from his eyes.

Hiyori hovered in the doorway of her apartment, discomfort and unease written all across her face. She had been friendly enough when she'd answered the door, but Yukine's desperate insistence that he knew her had since put her on edge. He couldn't exactly blame her, given she didn't recognize him and he'd been acting like a raving lunatic.

"I'm sorry," Hiyori said, managing an awkward smile. "I think you must have the wrong person."

"I don't! We used to hang out all the time, although I guess you don't remember any of that. We met when you were still in high school. You got hit by a bus, remember? You were pushing Yato out of the way, because he wasn't paying attention and walked out in front of it. And then you kept 'falling asleep' all the time, and that's when your soul would slip out of your body and you'd come hang out with us."

Hiyori stared at him, and Yukine realized that all the talk of souls and gods only made him sound like he belonged in a padded cell.

"I did get hit by a bus when I was younger," she said carefully. "And I did have random bouts of narcolepsy for a long time. But I'm afraid that I don't know anything about souls or gods or shinki."

"Look, I know it sounds crazy, but I promise that I'm telling the truth. Please, won't you try to remember? I have pictures and things, if I could just show you. It's just that Yato has been missing for days, and I'm afraid that…"

Yukine trailed off and swallowed hard. This was his third attempt to speak to Hiyori since that terrible revelation, not that she remembered their other encounters. He needed her to remember him and Yato. He missed her, and more than that… He harbored a secret, desperate hope that if he could make Hiyori remember them, Yato might pop right back into existence. The logical part of his brain did not think things would work that way, but he had avoided voicing this idea to Kofuku or Daikoku or anyone who might set him straight.

Hiyori bit her lip and looked up and down the hall, then sighed and stepped backwards into her apartment, holding the door open for him. Yukine had not yet figured out how to explain the situation without sounding entirely unhinged—and was always disappointed that Hiyori was not nearly as open-minded as she had been as a schoolgirl—but he had managed to finagle his way inside last time and had an idea of how to sound just pathetic enough without becoming a raving psycho. The first time, he had scared her off entirely with his bawling and babbling. He hoped that if he just kept trying, he could discover the right thing to say or do to make her give him a chance. She had to remember them, if it took Yukine a hundred tries to do it.

"Come on, then," Hiyori said, waving him inside. Yukine followed her in, glad she had decided to take the chance that he wasn't a serial killer or something. "Just a second. I'll make some tea. You're very worked up."

It would take a lot more than tea to calm Yukine nowadays, but he didn't protest. He did trail on her heels and hover in the kitchen doorway while she put the kettle on, though, even when she suggested he sit down. She cast the occasional uncomfortable glance his way, but he had the nagging fear that if he left her alone for even a minute, she might walk out of the kitchen and freak out to see a stranger in her apartment.

But she did not forget the second she looked away, just made tea and arranged a small plate of snacks to bring out. Yukine thought it seemed like too much effort for someone she thought was bonkers and wanted to get rid of as soon as possible, but she had always been nice like that. Or maybe she just pitied him, or was trying to soothe him like she might soothe a wounded animal.

Yukine shifted about impatiently, turning the cup in his hands and taking the occasional sip until Hiyori had everything settled and seemed ready to listen. He pulled Yato's phone out of his pocket and scrolled through the photos, showing her pictures of them together that made her frown, confusion mixed with wariness. He hoped she didn't think he'd been stalking her or altering the photos. That would make him look beyond creepy.

But all she said was "I'm sorry. I don't remember any of this."

Yukine had come prepared this time. He rummaged around in his bag and pulled out the shrine. He pulled out homework pages that had both her handwriting and his, along with Yato's inane sketches of capypers. He babbled the stories of how they'd met and what adventures they'd been on and how they'd passed quiet visits.

Throughout it all, Hiyori's befuddlement only grew.

"You have to remember something!" Yukine said. "How else can you explain all of this?"

"I can't explain it at all," she said. "I don't… But it doesn't make sense. Is this some kind of joke or something? Did someone put you up to this?"

Yukine threw his hands into the air. "Who?"

"Well, I don't know! But it certainly seems insane!"

Now she was getting agitated too, an unsteady look in her eyes and disbelief written across her face. Yukine hoped that if he just kept pushing her, something might shake loose.

"Look," he said. "If you could just–"

"I think you should go." Hiyori stood abruptly, leaving Yukine blinking up at her.

"But–"

"You need to leave." She gathered up the papers he'd scattered across the table and thrust them back at him before striding off to the door and holding it open.

Yukine shoved them back into his bag, along with the shrine. "Hiyori, please–"

"I can't do this right now," she said, her voice taking on a shrill note. "I just… I need some time to think it over."

"But you can't!" Yukine said in despair. "If you kick me out, you'll forget again!"

"That doesn't even make sense."

"Does any of this make sense?"

"No, it doesn't. I'm going to need you to leave, or I'll be forced to call security."

Yukine stared at her, mouth working soundlessly, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He searched for the words to make her change her mind, to let him stay and jog her memory.

But her movements were quick and jittery as a bird's, and her eyes glittered like broken glass. He had pushed her too far, maybe, and now there was no way he would be able to talk her down and make her listen. He was going to have to start all over from scratch next time.

He slunk out of her apartment, and she shut the door quickly behind him. He lingered there for a long time, staring at nothing and wondering where he had gone wrong. Or where he hadn't gone wrong. What could he use next time? Was there any way to not scare her off sounding like a lunatic?

The door opened again, and Hiyori stepped out. She paused in the doorway and blinked at him, tilting her head in question.

"Can I help you?" she asked. "Are you looking for someone?"

He would try again later, but not right now. Yukine burst into tears and ran.

I've wanted a shrine for a long time. Ever since I was a kid. My father always said I didn't need one, because I had him. Just one more way to keep me trapped and chained to him, I guess. And Hiyori just made me one, as if it was no big deal. As if it didn't mean everything. That was a lifelong dream she answered on a whim, and I love her for it.

"I really don't know anything about this," Hiyori said firmly. "I think you have the wrong person, and it sounds like you've been experiencing some very vivid hallucinations. You should get a psychological evaluation. I can recommend you to one of my colleagues in our psychological department, if you'd like. He's very good, and he could help you find some answers and sort things out."

Yukine heaved a long-suffering sigh. Hiyori did not usually suggest he was crazy so directly. But he had also caught her coming out of the hospital for her lunch break, and she often had less patience for his stories if he accosted her at work. Maybe she just assumed he was at the hospital for a reason and was trying to usher him along. Or maybe there were generally a lot of crazies hanging around outside hospitals.

He wished he had resisted temptation and waited to try catching her in the evening when she was off work and more pliable instead of stalking her all day and jumping at the first opportunity. He was getting as bad as Yato had ever been, always harassing Hiyori and hanging around like a lost puppy. The thought came easily, but then his heart caught up with his brain and clenched painfully like it always did when he remembered something about Yato and realized he was really gone.

"I don't need a shrink," he said. "Can I just talk to you for a minute? I want to show you some things. It won't take long."

Hiyori eyed him guardedly and snuck a surreptitious glance at her watch. "Have I treated you before?"

"Excuse me?"

"Were you a former patient of mine? Sorry, I see so many people that sometimes I forget faces."

"No, no, nothing like that. We were friends."

"Mhm. Look, I'd be happy to pass you on to a more qualified doctor, but unfortunately I won't be able to help more than that. This isn't really my area of expertise."

Yukine stared at her, but she held firm, mouth pressed into a stern line. It didn't matter that he should have known better—did know better—than to try making her remember this way. He had already tried over a dozen times, painstakingly searching out the right and wrong ways to approach her, and he should have known this way wouldn't work. But he had also never found a way that would.

He had spent weeks crying and feeling hopeless, splitting his time between searching the streets fruitlessly in case Yato rematerialized, moping around in a puddle of depression, and desperately prodding at Hiyori. Kofuku and Daikoku had begun hinting that he should start thinking about taking a new master, but he wasn't ready to give up yet. He didn't want to move on if there was even the slightest chance that he could make Hiyori remember and bring Yato back. It wasn't fair. Yukine missed Yato and Hiyori, and he had done everything he could think of to make that right. And it wasn't enough.

"This is your fault!" he spat, his grief flaring into hot anger. "You promised you wouldn't forget us! And now Yato is gone because of you. You killed him! You were our friend, and you just abandoned us. You were supposed to be my friend!"

Hiyori stared at him with wide eyes and began slowly backing up towards the front doors of the hospital. She reached into her pocket surreptitiously, and her hand came out clutching her cellphone.

"I hate you!" Yukine called after her as she retreated. "You lied and forgot and killed him! I hate you!"

He shouted after her until she disappeared back inside, but he didn't feel any better.

I admire Hiyori a lot. Even though she's only human and doesn't have much power of her own, she always jumps right into the fray and figures out how to help. She is an incredibly strong person.

"What are you doing?" Kazuma asked from the doorway.

Yukine started in surprise and looked up guiltily. He hadn't even heard Kazuma come in. He surveyed the pages of old homework and new notes about what strategies did and didn't work on Hiyori that were strewn all across his bed.

"Uh…" He searched for a reasonable explanation, but drew a blank.

Kazuma sighed. "Are you still plotting how to make Hiyori remember?"

"Well, she should," Yukine said defensively.

While Kazuma had always been something of a mentor, Yukine found that he chafed at being under his direct command. The only person who could boss him around like that was Yato, and even he had known when to back down.

Leaning back against the doorway, Kazuma closed his eyes and massaged his forehead. "Look, Yukine–"

"Stop bossing me around. I can do what I want outside of training and battle. Bishamon said so."

"I'm not here to give you any orders, just a little advice."

"I don't really want that either," Yukine muttered, glaring down at an old worksheet. Good job, Hiyori had written across the top with a smiley face. A capyper peeked around the bottom corner of the page.

Kazuma sighed again. "What do you really want out of this?"

"I want her to remember us, obviously."

"And if she does? Best-case scenario. What happens then?"

"Well…" Yukine hesitated, looking for an answer that didn't sound silly or naïve. "We can be friends again."

Kazuma didn't say anything for a long time, just stared at the far wall. "It won't bring Yato back," he said finally.

Yukine flushed. "Of course it won't–"

"It's too late, Yukine. Yato is gone. And what will happen to Hiyori if she remembers? She'll get to live with the guilt of Yato's disappearance and your grief, and she'll get sucked back into our world and derail the human life she's built. And what will it do for you? Do you think you'll just forgive her and become best friends again overnight? You're angry and resentful, as much as you miss her. Will you ever be able to look at her and not blame her for what happened to Yato? Things wouldn't be the same.

"Still… Maybe it's unfair to ask you to give up that hope. Maybe it really would help you find closure if she remembered and you could become friends again. Just… Make sure you're honest with yourself about your motives. And I worry that being so obsessed with making her remember is preventing you from moving on and learning how to live here with us. Between your grief for Yato and your obsession with Hiyori… You really aren't giving us your best, and it's making it hard for you to adjust. You always come back angry and heartsick and hopeless. I understand that you're still grieving, but maybe it's time to start thinking about letting Hiyori go and moving on with your life, the same way she's moved on with hers."

Yukine stared down at the paper until the words began to blur together in greasy smudges. He didn't want to examine Kazuma's words too closely. He didn't think he was ready to let go, no matter how sound the advice.

"I…"

"Just think about it," Kazuma said gently.

"Yeah, whatever."

But when Kazuma left the room, Yukine slowly gathered up all the papers and put them away, then stretched out on his back and stared up at the ceiling, trying not to think at all.

He didn't seek Hiyori out for a few days. While he stubbornly didn't think about what Kazuma had said, the words had wriggled into his ear and nestled into some corner of his brain anyway. At the very least, they gave him enough pause to not go hassle Hiyori every day.

When he did see Hiyori again, it was an accident. He was wandering listlessly along the streets in the lower realm, needing to be away from Bishamon's place and the constant pressures of learning to work with a team, when Hiyori walked right past him.

He stopped and turned to watch her go. She walked briskly, staring at the phone in her hand as she typed out messages with her thumb. Her wallet was clutched in her other hand, and she reached absentmindedly to drop it into the bag slung over her shoulder without looking. It missed her purse entirely and fell to the ground instead, but she didn't seem to notice.

Yukine stared after her as she walked away, still engrossed in tapping away on her phone. Then he jogged over to pick up the abandoned wallet and hustled after her.

"Hey!" he called. "Hey, wait! Hiyori!"

She didn't notice him until he was nearly right on top of her and tugged at the sleeve of her coat. Then she looked up, startled.

"Oh!" she said. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."

Yukine let go of her and held out the wallet. "You dropped your wallet."

She blinked at it for a moment, and then her face lit up as she took it from him. "Thank you! I'm so clumsy. Thanks for finding it for me."

Yukine opened his mouth, searching for the right thing to say in order to take advantage of this opening. But she was smiling at him so genuinely, and he knew her expression would contort into bewilderment or fear or pity if he jumped back into his story. And despite everything… He still liked to see her smile. Maybe it wasn't fair of him to ruin that.

"You're welcome," he said, and managed a pained smile of his own as she thanked him again and turned away.

He watched her walk away, heart shuddering painfully in his chest, and wondered if this was what it felt like to let go.

I love watching Hiyori with Yukine. She's been such a good influence on him, and she teaches him so well. Honestly, she's really helped civilize the both of us.

Yukine sat on a bench outside the hospital, flipping slowly through Yato's notebook and skimming the entries that he already knew by heart. He had been sitting here on and off for days now, debating whether or not to try talking to Hiyori one more time. He hadn't talked to her in months now, ever since Kazuma had convinced him that it would be less painful for everyone to let her go.

He had spotted Hiyori entering or leaving the building a couple of times, although he didn't know the schedule of her shifts and missed her as often as not. But he hadn't yet decided whether it would be a good idea to try one more time. Not to make her remember, because he had given up on that, at least for now. But he had shown everyone else what Yato had written about them, and it seemed wrong and incomplete not to show Hiyori too.

Except that it wouldn't mean anything to her. For everyone else, it was a kind of closure, or at least had some kind of meaning. Hiyori didn't even remember who Yato was, and there was no way Yukine could read her these things without her thinking he was a lunatic again. She wouldn't understand.

He sighed. Maybe it was pointless and he should just let it go. If it wouldn't mean anything to Hiyori, it shouldn't mean anything to him either. It was getting late now, dreary evening sun beginning to fade into twilight, and he should head home before night fell in earnest.

"Are you okay?"

His head jerked up, and he blinked at Hiyori in surprise. She hovered in front of him uncertainly, phone in hand.

"Um," he said, too stunned that she had noticed him to formulate an intelligible response.

"Are you waiting for someone?" she pressed.

"I…don't know. Not exactly. Maybe."

"Okay… You seem upset. Are you okay?"

Yukine stared at her, and he felt his eyes filling with tears. He had been waiting for Hiyori, or maybe he hadn't, but he hadn't expected her to come to him. It hurt, but in a good way. And also a bad one, because it wasn't the same as the friendship they'd had, and it would only be fleeting and temporary. Still, wasn't it better than nothing?

"Not really," he mumbled, scrubbing at his eyes.

Hiyori sat down on the bench next to him. "What's wrong?"

"Just…" He sniffed and looked down at the notebook again. "My friend is gone. He…died, I guess. I miss him a lot."

"I'm sorry about your friend."

"Yeah. And we had another friend, but… She ended up leaving, and we weren't friends anymore. I miss her too."

"It's always sad when friendships end."

"Yeah, just… Yato, before he died… He wrote down a bunch of stuff in this notebook, and I didn't find it until after he was gone. It has a lot of things he never told us, and there are things about me and our other friends too. I want to share what he said with our other friend, but she's gone now too and doesn't even know he's dead. But I wanted her to know."

"I'm sorry," Hiyori said gently. "That does sound terrible. Would you like to tell me about your friends?"

Yukine cut a sharp look her way, but her eyes were soft and earnest. She was trying to coax him into talking so that he could get his grief off his chest. She was trying to help him even without knowing him, because that was the kind of person she had always been.

And he realized that he did want to talk. He had always wanted to talk to Hiyori, but every conversation had only left him more miserable than the last when she didn't believe him. But maybe he could approach it this way and say what he needed to without making her believe anything at all.

"Yato was…everything." Yukine swallowed hard. "He could be stupidly gullible and childish and kind of self-centered, but… He drove me crazy sometimes, but he was the best. He really saved my life, and he gave me a chance when no one else would. He gave me a place to belong and fought to keep me safe and made me talk to him when I was unhappy and really listened to my advice like it meant something. He was…kind of like the dad I never had. I wish I'd told him that, even once."

Tears spilled down Yukine's cheeks again, and he pressed his fists to his eyes. He had been trying to move on and not grieve too much because he didn't want to hurt Bishamon, but finding the notebook had brought everything back to the surface, and talking about Yato only made him remember how much he missed him. It was a physical pain in his chest, an empty hole where his heart should be.

"He sounds really special," Hiyori murmured. "I'm sure he knew how you felt, even if you didn't say the words. If you were that close, he probably knew before you did."

Yukine coughed out a wheezy, tearstained laugh. "I sure hope so. He had such a horrible life, and he deserved something to make him happy. And then Hiyori…"

Her head snapped up. "Hiyori?"

He hesitated, but there was nothing for it now. "Yeah," he said. "My other friend. The one who left."

She frowned, puzzled. "Huh. My name is Hiyori. What a coincidence."

"Yeah," he muttered. "Crazy. Anyway… She was the nicest person I ever met. She tutored me in her spare time, when I wanted to learn but needed help. She was always there when we needed her, and she made us smile and laugh a lot. She really made us into a family. You know, kind of like how you stopped to talk to me when you saw I was upset, instead of walking away like most people would. You're…a lot like her."

"She sounds great too. I'm sorry to hear you lost your friends like that. Do you still have a support system you can rely on? If you need help processing the trauma, I can recommend you to a good grief counselor as well. Maybe it would help you work through that grief. Totally up to you, of course. It's just a suggestion. There are people out there who would do their best to help. Just think about it."

"Yeah," Yukine said without conviction. "I'll think about it. Can I…? Can I read you some of the things he wrote? To Hiyori? Since you have the same name and remind me so much of her… Maybe if I can't share it with her, this is the next best thing."

Hiyori bit her lip but nodded. "If you want to."

Yukine flipped to the front of the notebook and began reading out the entries about Hiyori. He adjusted them to the human world where he could, rewording them to avoid mention of gods and shinki and the like. He didn't want to scare Hiyori off when they'd just finally begun to reach an understanding.

Hiyori listened quietly, her eyes wide and attentive. She let him read out everything he wanted to, and then they sat in silence for a minute. The reading left Yukine feeling hollow and exhausted, but also somehow lighter, as if sharing these secrets with his other friends—and now Hiyori herself—had made them easier to bear. It was a lot of responsibility, keeping the memory of someone alive all by yourself. It seemed easier to endure after distributing the weight.

"They sound like very good friends," Hiyori said finally. "It's tragic how you lost them, but isn't it beautiful how much happiness you found with them too? And maybe you'll find your Hiyori again, one day. She might still come back into your life."

"Maybe," Yukine murmured, casting a melancholy look her way as he shut the notebook again. "I'd like that. Well… I guess I should let you go. Thanks for listening to me."

"Oh, of course! Thank you for sharing. I work here, at the hospital. So if you ever need anything, you can ask for me at the desk. I can give you recommendations for a counselor, if you decide you want to try one."

"Thanks." He looked around and grimaced. "It's late."

Night had fallen in earnest. Their bench sat in a circle of lamplight and street lights splashed their glow along the sidewalks, but the darkness pressed in around them. He did not like it.

"Yeah," Hiyori said. "You should probably be getting home. Your parents will worry."

"Yeah. I'm just…scared of the dark."

"Oh!" She looked up and down the street. "Well, if you'd like, I could walk you home. Maybe it won't be so scary to go alone."

Maybe it was selfish, but Yukine jumped at the offer. He wanted to drag this encounter out for as long as possible. He had built a rapport with Hiyori here tonight, and it would crumble to dust as soon as they walked away from each other. It was not the same as having the old Hiyori back, but it was the closest he'd had in a long time.

"Well… If you don't mind. Bishamonten has a shrine nearby. I'd like to stop by there."

Hiyori's eyebrows jumped up her forehead, but she didn't question the odd choice. She pulled out her phone and turned on the flashlight, aiming it ahead of them to provide another buffer against the dark. Yukine appreciated the small kindness.

They walked down the street, and Hiyori tried to engage Yukine in small talk, asking general questions about his family and schooling and hobbies. Trying to get him to talk about something other than his dead and missing friends, he guessed. Hoping to distract him from his melancholy.

Yukine made up elaborate and patently false answers to them all. He could hardly tell her the truth, and he didn't mind building a small fantasy about a life he might have had and sharing it with her.

It only took a few minutes to find Bishamon's shrine, and Yukine strode up to it confidently before turning back.

"Thank you for walking me."

"Of course," Hiyori said. "Take care, alright?"

"Yeah. It was nice to talk to you again." Yukine smiled back at her a little sadly, nostalgia and melancholy tugging at his heartstrings. "Goodbye, Hiyori. I forgive you."

And then he turned away and let the magic of the shrine pull him back to Takamagahara, leaving Hiyori blinking after him in bewilderment.

I think Hiyori is going to change the world. I mean, she already has. She's changed my world and Yukine's and meddled in the affairs of gods. But I think she'll do great things in the human world too. She's growing up so fast and already doing great work at the hospital. She's smart and capable and strong, and she's going to change a lot of people's lives.

Chapter Text

Yukine

When I first met Yukine, he reminded me of myself, a little. All that misguided hurt and anger and loneliness, the lashing out and destructiveness, the searching for a purpose and place to belong. Maybe that's one of the reasons I was so determined to shake some sense into him. He was always a good kid deep down—he just needed someone to fight for him and give him a second chance.

Yukine was already walking away when Bishamon called everyone's names and summoned them back to their human forms in the front hall. He had done his part and tried his best to focus on their storm chasing and ayakashi hunting. All things considered, he thought he had done alright. Not even Kazuma had complained or reprimanded him.

Now he should be free to barricade himself in his room and read over the notebook once again, one passage at a time, searching for any hidden meaning he might have missed and trying vainly to puzzle out the enigma that was Yato. Kazuma might not approve, but Yukine had performed his duties satisfactorily and was trying to keep his emotions under control so as not to bother Bishamon. That was the best he could do.

"Good work, everyone," Bishamon said. "Grab some dinner if you haven't eaten yet. Yukine, may I have a word?"

Yukine stopped in his tracks and turned slowly around. Shinki gave him curious or sympathetic looks as they traipsed past towards the kitchen. Kazuma leaned in to whisper something to Bishamon, but she merely offered him a fleeting smile and waved him off. He retreated reluctantly, nodding to Yukine as he went.

"What is it?" Yukine asked, wishing he were free to leave with the others.

Bishamon tilted her head down the hall. "Walk with me?" She started back down the corridor, turning away from the kitchen, and Yukine reluctantly trailed behind and then fell into step beside her. "You did well today. You've been improving in leaps and bounds these past few months."

"Thanks…?"

"Kazuma is pleased with your progress, as am I. You have become a valuable asset to the team, and it's nice to see you settling in and making friends. I hope you are learning to like it here as well?"

"I mean, yeah? I've been getting used to it. It's been nearly a year now. Everyone has been great."

"Very good. I'm glad to hear it. If there's anything we can do to help make you more comfortable, you should of course let us know."

Yukine had had enough. All of the beating around the bush was making him nervous.

"Okay, what is this really about? I'm sure you didn't just want to talk about how I'm settling in after a year."

Bishamon sighed and looked up and down the hall. "I thought we could talk in my office."

Yukine supposed that made sense. With so many shinki residing here, it was foolish to hold a private conversation in the hall if you didn't want someone to wander by or overhear. Knowing that the mystery topic was something Bishamon wanted to make sure stayed private did nothing to alleviate his anxiety, though.

Bishamon mercifully dropped the small talk while she ushered him around the last corner and into her office. Yukine sat down and watched apprehensively as she rounded the desk and sat on the other side.

"Right," Bishamon said, steepling her hands on the tabletop. "No need to look so worried. I just wanted to check in on you and make sure you're doing okay. I know that the anniversary was hard, and finding Yato's notebook really rattled you. How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," Yukine muttered, staring down at the polished woodgrain. A thought occurred to him, and he added more apprehensively, "Have I been hurting you?"

"No, it's fine," Bishamon said a little too quickly. "But I know you've been struggling with it, and I wanted to check in. I'm in your corner, you know. If there's anything I could do to help…"

"It's fine," Yukine mumbled. "Thanks for checking."

She sighed. "I'm not Yato, and I'm not trying to replace him. If you don't feel like you can talk to me about all the things that are bothering you like you did with him, that's fine. Just… I'm your master now, and I want to build a stronger relationship with you where you feel safe bringing things to me if you want to. I am not replacing Yato, but I am your partner too now."

Yukine knew she was right, even if he didn't like to think about it. It wasn't fair to keep his distance just because she wasn't Yato. She had been understanding of his hang-ups and patient with his grieving, but he had pledged himself to her. He owed her the same degree of respect and loyalty that he had owed Yato.

But he still felt, irrationally, that accepting Bishamon fully was a betrayal to Yato. And there were just some things he wasn't ready to talk about with her or anyone. Without Yato or Hiyori to confide in, he would rather keep some things to himself.

But he supposed he owed Bishamon something.

"I'm fine," he said again. "It's just… This notebook is driving me crazy. I wish Yato had told me these things himself instead of hiding them until it was too late. I wish I had known."

"He really did like keeping things to himself," Bishamon said. "I guess that living under the sorcerer's thumb for so long really messed him up. He was getting better, but it was slow going sometimes. I think that if he'd had enough time to sort himself out, he would have opened up about some of those things, but I guess that doesn't really help when we never got there. And then there are all the things you never told him."

Yukine squinted at her, not liking the feeling that this was somehow getting turned back on him. "What do you mean?"

"You aren't always very open about your emotions either, are you? I'm sure there are things you didn't talk about. You wish you had the opportunity to tell him things too."

He squirmed in his seat. "I guess."

Bishamon hesitated, fiddling with a pen on her desk, and then said, "I'm going to make a suggestion. You can follow it or not, or maybe you can think of something that would suit you better."

"What?"

"I was thinking that maybe you should try writing to Yato."

Yukine stared. "Write to Yato? But…"

"Yes. Like a letter or a journal, or something like the notebook he left you. The notebook stirred up a lot of angst, but it's also going to help you find some closure, right? It was a way for Yato to communicate with you even past the grave, so to speak, even if the communication is only one-way. You can do something similar. Even if he's never going to read it, you will. I guess that ultimately you'd really be writing to yourself, but still. There are things you still can't talk to me about, but maybe you could talk to him. It might help you sort out some of your thoughts and feelings, and I bet it would be cathartic."

"I don't know…" Yukine hedged. He had never been the journaling type, and the whole idea sounded kind of hokey.

"Just think about it. It's entirely up to you, and I won't bother you about it or barge in. But you have a lot to say, and you should find a medium to say it."

"I'll think about it."

"Great. And if you do need me for anything, I'll be here. Please don't hesitate to bring any concerns to me. Kazuma is a big proponent of shinki hiding their problems in the hopes that I won't get hurt, but that strategy backfired before. I'm trying to encourage more open communication, and I know you're used to a more open relationship as well. I won't butt in where I'm not wanted, but please feel that you can come to me with anything you'd like."

"Okay," Yukine mumbled. "Thanks. Can I go now? I'm starving."

"Yes, of course. Get some dinner. Just think about it."

Yukine stood and fled the room with as much dignity as he could muster. The whole conversation left him feeling uncomfortable, and it gnawed at him long after he wished he could let it go.

Yukine is a great guidepost. He gives good advice, and even in situations where he doesn't know enough to lead the way, his steady presence points me due north. The kids tend to assume I have all the answers or know what to do, but sometimes it's nice to have someone else help point the way when I have no idea what is the right thing to do. I trust him more than anyone.

Bishamon's idea nestled in the corner of Yukine's mind like a morsel of food stuck between his teeth, just enough of a nuisance that his tongue was always probing at it, trying to pry it free. The fact was that there were things he wanted to say to Yato, even if he wasn't entirely sure what all of them were yet. But what good was it to say the words if Yato wouldn't be there to hear them? It felt stupid and pointless. The only reason the notebook meant anything was because Yukine was still around to read it and share it with everyone else. If it had stayed hidden under the floorboards forever and Yato's words had never come to light, would it have counted for anything?

He tried to think of another way to work out the problem like Bishamon had suggested, but there was nothing that would bring Yato back or carry Yukine's words to him. Every strategy seemed silly and meaningless.

The only thing that didn't seem completely futile was swapping stories like he had done with Kazuma. Hearing things about Yato that he hadn't known before and sharing his own stories. But that was just like the notebook again—learning the hidden facets of Yato too late. He had performed the same ritual with Kofuku and Daikoku, learning about Daigo and other events long before his time, and it had been nice. But when Kofuku sighed and murmured about keeping pieces of Yato alive, Yukine didn't feel that. Yato still felt very much gone, and no one would want to sit around reminiscing about a dead person all the time. It was bittersweet, and Yato was still out of reach.

So he had gotten exactly nowhere, but he kept thinking about it because he knew very well that he was obsessed with the notebook. He needed a way to move on, like he had with Hiyori, more or less. A way to still miss Yato and love him and cherish his memory, but without interfering too much with the life he was building now. He might have started finding some kind of balance over the past few months, but the notebook had shaken everything up again, and he figured that he wouldn't have been so easily thrown off kilter if he had actually been that steady in the first place.

"What are you thinking about so hard?" Daikoku asked, nudging Yukine in the side as he slid past with a box of product to stock the shelves. "You're going to give yourself a headache keeping your face all scrunched up like that."

Yukine started at the intrusion into his brooding. He had been sorting through his box on autopilot, the process still second-nature from all the time he'd spent helping in the shop back in the old days. The simplicity of the task gave his mind the freedom to wander, and he realized that he hadn't been paying attention to anything at all.

"Oh," he said, flushing. "Nothing, really."

"Is it about Yato-chan's notebook?" Kofuku asked. She sat behind the counter, ostensibly poring over the ledger as if they couldn't clearly see that she had tucked a magazine inside to read instead.

Yukine grimaced and looked away, throwing himself back into sorting out product. "Sort of," he muttered.

"And sort of not?"

"…And sort of not."

"Don't get too caught up in it," Daikoku cautioned. "It's special, but make sure you're still stable and not in any danger of crossing the line because you let things spiral."

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

"Maybe talk to Bisha," Kofuku suggested. "She's your master now. She should be able to help."

Yukine sighed heavily. "Yeah… She's trying. I just…"

"What is it, Yukki?"

"I don't know. It's just not the same. And it's kind of stupid, but it feels like I'm betraying Yato if I accept too much from her. I pledged my loyalty to him, not…"

Daikoku blew out a breath and leaned back, abandoning the stocking. "It's not stupid. I think it's a natural feeling, even if not the most justified. But you did pledge loyalty to Bishamon too, if grudgingly. She's your master now, and it seems like she's done a good job looking after you, hasn't she? I don't think it's strange to feel conflicting loyalties, but I do think it's something you'll have to work through. Give her a chance. Change is hard, especially when paired with loss, and you've gotten more than your fair share of both. It's a process. Just don't give up on it."

Yukine mumbled his halfhearted agreement. He already knew all of that, obviously. Somehow, it didn't change his feelings on the matter. He had come to the conclusion that emotions were messy, illogical things that didn't always listen when the brain tried to marshal them.

Kofuku slid off the chair, feet thumping against the floorboards, and crossed the room to bend over Yukine and take his face in her hands.

"No one doubts your loyalty to Yato-chan," she said seriously. "You did everything right by him, and I never saw him happier than the years he had with you. He valued your loyalty and guidance very highly. But he would also want you to be happy again and live. He fought so hard to give you that chance to keep living, and he was always looking for ways to make you smile and support you through your problems.

"It's not the same with Bisha, but it's important that you have another guardian and build a new life for yourself. With how much he valued life, he would want you to make the most of yours. You were Yato-chan's kid, and I know he would be proud to see how far you've come and what you'll accomplish in the future. And you know Daikoku and I are proud of you too, don't you? We know it's been hard, and you've grown so much despite everything. You're going to go really far."

Her unusually solemn expression blurred behind a film of tears, and Yukine sniffled loudly. Kofuku's face softened as she pulled him into a hug. Daikoku abandoned the produce to join in.

Yukine huddled in their embrace and buried his face in the crook of Kofuku's neck and cried silently. They let him cry himself out, and when he had finished, he found that he felt strangely lighter than before.

I never thought I'd have a hafuri. I mean, I could barely even convince a shinki to stay for more than a few weeks. Truly, I don't deserve it, but… I want to, someday. Yukine is amazing, and I want to be with him for as long as I can. Eternity is a long time, no matter the oath of loyalty a hafuri swears, but I'll take as long as I can get.

Yukine was flipping through the notebook yet again when a knock sounded on his door. He started guiltily and shoved the book under his pillow before sliding off the bed and padding across the room to crack the door open.

"Can I come in?" Kazuma asked.

Yukine stood aside and opened the door farther. "Sure. What's up?"

Kazuma stepped inside and glanced around the room before returning his attention to Yukine. "I have something for you."

"Oh?"

He pulled out the hand tucked behind his back. His fingers were wrapped around Yato's shrine.

"We think it's time for you to have this back now," he said. "Admittedly… I still think it might be a little too soon, but you've made good progress. And I suppose you'll obsess over the notebook anyway if you can't have this. Veena said it was time. She never entirely agreed with the boundaries we set around it. It belongs to you now, and she thinks you should be able to keep it and make your own decisions. She's sometimes too lenient, but she's also smart and sometimes better at empathizing than I am. You're clever too. I'm sure you'll be able to balance this better now that you've had time to process some things."

Yukine hardly dared to breathe. He took an abortive step forward before falling back again, and Kazuma reached out farther, proffering the shrine. Yukine leaned in again and reached out cautiously, half expecting the shrine to be tugged out of his grasp. But his fingers closed around solid wood, and Kazuma let go.

"I can keep it?" Yukine asked in a small voice, retreating a few steps. He stared down at the shrine, running his finger over Yato's name scratched into the wood in Hiyori's handwriting. It was a small intersection of the people he'd loved and lost that made tears well in his eyes.

"Yes," Kazuma said gently. "It's yours. Maybe it will help you find some closure, along with that notebook. Veena is okay with it, and Yato would want you to have it. You were the only shinki that really loved him in a very long time, and he loved you more than anything. He would want his shrine in your care, just like how you always protected him when he was here. You are still Yato's guardian. Even as the world forgets, you will remember. He would want it that way."

The tears spilled over as the crack in Yukine's heart split open again with a pain like a gunshot. He hugged the shrine to his chest and lowered his head, the tears dripping down his cheeks to fall on the little roof and soak into the wood.

"S-sorry," he said, choking on the words. "I…"

"It's okay," Kazuma murmured. "We knew you'd cry. And really… I know I taught you not to, but Yato always said you should, and it worked for you. He was clever too, when he wanted to be. It's okay, Yukine."

Yukine sat down right there on the floor and cried, his shoulders heaving as he gasped for breath. Kazuma sank to the ground beside him, and after a moment, Yukine leaned into his shoulder.

Yukine cried for a few minutes before pulling himself back together. Yato had always said it was good to let his emotions out instead of bottling them up, but there was also a line between indulging emotions and letting them hurt his god.

"Thank you," he rasped.

"Yes, of course." Kazuma stood and brushed off his pants, but hesitated in the doorway. "For what it's worth… I was loyal to both Veena and Yato as well, for a long time. It's possible to be both, even if you have to choose a priority. Veena was always my priority, and Yato was yours. You were, are, and always will be his hafuri. We understand that. But in time, maybe you will learn to prioritize your own future instead of the past, and that doesn't have to mean abandoning Yato. It's okay to divide your allegiance between them, as long as you are still doing your best to move forward with us. Maybe I was unfair to push you about it so much. If I had to move on with another god, it wouldn't be easy for me to let go of Veena either. It's not all or nothing. You can have a little bit of both."

Yukine studied every inch of the shrine long after Kazuma had slipped quietly from the room, running his hands reverently over every surface and edge. He had seen it at Kofuku's, of course, but somehow it felt new and different to have it back here with him.

He was immeasurably grateful to Kazuma for bringing it back, and to Bishamon for convincing him to. And Kazuma's little speech was something to chew on as well. Yukine had struggled with his necessarily divided loyalties, and hearing the problem accepted in such an understanding fashion by his mentor soothed some of the sting. Maybe the answer was in there somewhere, if he could find it.

Everyone had done their best to support him, and he had made a lot of progress with their help. But there were some things he needed to do himself, and maybe it was time to do them.

He grabbed a pen and crawled back onto the bed, digging out the notebook from beneath the pillow. He flipped it open to the last page Yato had written, read it one more time, and turned it over. It took a long time of staring at the blank page before the words would come, but then he took a deep breath and began to write.

All these things in your secret notebook… I wish you'd told them to me yourself. I always wanted to know you better. I shouldn't have had to wait until you were gone.

I was supposed to protect you, and it hurts that in the end I wasn't able to do anything at all.

You were always a good god. Even though your father messed you up and you did a lot of bad things too, you took naturally to helping people. You always said that I was guiding you to become a god of fortune, but the truth is that you were always a good person all on your own.

You absolutely deserved every good thing you got from us and a hundred more besides, and you'd be stupid to think otherwise.

It meant a lot, that you went through so much to save me in the beginning. You gave me so many chances instead of giving up on me. Why would you be surprised that I'd stick around and pledge loyalty to you? You were my guidepost first.

You could be ridiculously gullible and naïve, but sometimes seeing the world through your eyes, with that childlike excitement, made it seem like a better and happier place.

You were always an amazing artist. Your drawings were beautiful, even if I didn't say so. You had so many random talents and were good at so many things. I was always secretly impressed.

It always made me happy when you called me your kid. I wish I'd told you that, instead of brushing you off. You were the best family I could have asked for.

No matter what anyone else thought, you were my god of fortune, and Hiyori's too.

Sometimes I would trade in my earnings at the shop for five yen coins and sneak them into your cash bottle. You always deserved to get paid more for the services you did anyway.

I know I called you names and said mean things a lot, but I also thought you were brave and loyal and funny and strong and kind and smart when you wanted to be. I should have told you that more too.

I miss you every day. I miss your laugh and your stupid jokes and the sheepish look you'd wear when I found out you'd been buying dumb charms again. I miss the way you called me your kid and flung your arm around my shoulders. I miss fighting with you, killing ayakashi and knowing you so well that I could anticipate every move. You always filled up the room, and everything feels empty with you gone.

I will always remember you. No matter what, you won't be forgotten. Everyone misses you a lot—maybe even Hiyori, in some secret, subconscious part of her mind. You made such a big impression on us that you could never truly disappear. I wish we had more time, but I'm grateful for what time we had. You will always be at the center of my heart.

I don't know if I ever told you this, but I love you. I always did, and I always will.

Yukine sat back and dropped the pen, flexing the fingers of his cramping hand. His words looked dark and jagged against the page, and a tear dripped down his nose and splashed down right in the middle of them, wrinkling the paper and making the ink bleed.

He sniffed hard and scrubbed at his eyes. He had already done enough crying for today.

Flipping back through the pages slowly, he reread his words. Strangely enough, writing everything out had helped him articulate his own thoughts and feelings. It didn't exactly make him feel better, though.

These were all things that he should have said to Yato, but he hadn't. Now it was too late. Yato was gone. Now that Yukine was finally ready to say everything he had bottled up, there was no one left to hear it. He couldn't even talk to Hiyori to get her advice and comfort.

It made him feel more alone than ever.

I wonder if Yukine knows I really mean it when I call him my kid. He treats it like a corny joke sometimes, but I really do love him. I'm not any kind of father—I've had one of those, and I'd never want to become that—but I'd like to be some kind of guardian or friend. Family, I guess. I want to build a family with him.

Yukine hesitated outside Bishamon's office, rocking back and forth on his heels. He wasn't sure if this was a good idea, and generally he tried to avoid tough conversations. But something would have to be done sooner or later, and he needed to put in the effort to build the relationship with Bishamon. Baby steps.

After a few minutes of dithering, he rapped on the door.

"Come in," Bishamon said. She was looking through a stack of papers, but set them aside when Yukine entered the room and shut the door behind him. "Yukine? What is it?"

"I, uh… I wanted to show you something."

He slunk across the room and sank into the chair across from her. Bishamon watched him intently, and he stared down at the tabletop to avoid her eyes.

"What is it?" she asked again.

"Well… You know how you said I should write a letter or something to Yato? I honestly thought it was kind of dumb, but I finally did it anyway."

"Oh? Do you think it helped?"

Yukine shrugged. "I don't know yet. Maybe. I guess it helped me start untangling and sorting out my feelings, at least. Just… He's never going to read it, you know? I know this was really supposed to be an exercise for me, but… I should have told him those things myself. Before it was too late. It's like now that I'm finally ready to open up about them, he's not here to hear it."

Bishamon sighed. "Yes… That's a tough spot to be in. This might sound kind of silly, but… Have you tried imagining his reaction? Maybe he'll never read them himself, but you knew him well enough to have an idea of how he would have reacted. It's still one-way communication, but maybe channeling him like that is a way to feel closer to him and find some closure on this issue in particular. You're probably tired of hearing people say that we keep pieces of the dead alive through us, but even if it's not the same, it's still a way of interacting with our loved ones who are gone."

Yukine did think it sounded silly, but he supposed that Bishamon's last advice had been solid enough despite sounding strange.

"Right," he muttered. "Actually… I was wondering if you would read it? Yato isn't here to hear it, but maybe if someone was… You told me to talk to you about my problems, like I would have with Yato, and you're my master now. It's not the same, but I want to build a life with you, and maybe that means sharing what's going on with me."

Bishamon went very still. "Are you sure? I didn't mean that you needed to show me. It can be private."

Yukine shrugged and toed at the floor. He wasn't sure that he really wanted anyone pawing through his private thoughts, but he couldn't share them with Yato or Hiyori anymore, and maybe he needed an outside perspective. Or at least to not sit and stew in his angst until he exploded.

Yato had built their relationship by encouraging Yukine to bring him his problems and talk about things that bothered him. Bishamon had encouraged the same, but Yukine hadn't been ready to give more than a grudging inch here and there. Maybe part of moving on and finding closure was finding someone else to be his confidante and putting in the work to build that relationship with Bishamon without worrying that he was betraying Yato.

He slid the notebook across the desk and stared very hard at the woodgrain. After a moment, the pages began to rustle. He stayed quiet, and neither of them said anything for a long time.

Finally, Bishamon let out her breath in a soft sigh. "Thank you for sharing. Sometimes it's hard for me to figure out what's going on in your head or how to connect with you, and it helps to get a feeling for how you really think and feel and what things are eating at you. I would like to keep our lines of communication more open in the future as we learn how to understand each other better."

"Yeah," Yukine muttered.

Wood scraped against wood, and he looked up to see Bishamon pushing her chair back. She stood and rounded the desk, leaning over to meet Yukine at eye level, and took his face in her hands. Her eyes were solemn but soft, and Yukine stared back in bewilderment.

"Yukine," she said, "Yato already knew those things, whether you told him in as many words or not. I watched the two of you, and you had amazing communication even when you didn't talk about things. You both showed how much you cared for and respected each other in so many ways. He knew that you loved him and liked being his family and were always going to be loyal to him.

"And… I know how frustrating the notebook has been for you, but you already knew those things too, didn't you? Maybe we didn't know some of the specifics, but all the big things? You knew that he loved you and saw you as his kid and had absolute respect for your guidance. Yes, it would have been nice to discuss these things with each other and use the words. But Yukine, most of these things weren't secrets. These are things that you always shared with each other."

Yukine's heart seized, squeezing so tightly that he couldn't breathe. The pain was blinding and bittersweet.

Was this the truth he had needed to hear all along? He hadn't known that Yato hadn't believed in capypers or had been the one to make Nora into a nora or had sneakily cleaned things around Kofuku's shrine. But he had known how much Yato had cared. Maybe he had let all the small things blind him to the fact that all the big ones were not secrets after all and never had been. They were just a written articulation of Yato's feelings, in the same way that Yukine's messages were.

And if Yato had already known the things Yukine wanted to say, then it hadn't been too late after all. Things were still broken, Yato was still gone, but Yukine wasn't just shouting into the void.

And he could imagine Yato's reaction to reading through the scribblings. He could imagine the tears gathering in Yato's eyes even though they refused to fall, the casual clearing of his throat and brush of the back of a hand across his eyes, the wobbly smile. 'Silly kid,' Yato would say. 'I already knew that. How dumb do you think I am? Come on, kiddo. What do you say we pick up Hiyori and get some ice cream?' And when they walked out of the room, Yato would drape his arm around Yukine's shoulders and squeeze tight. And even though Yukine might grumble and roll his eyes, he would lean in close because he had always loved the feeling.

Yukine's entire body began to shake as he crumbled to pieces right there in the middle of Bishamon's office, and every tear he'd held back to try sparing her his pain broke free in a series of body-wrenching sobs. In a way, this new knowledge made him feel lighter, more secure, like the closure he had needed. But it hurt too. It hurt more than anything. It was bittersweet, letting go.

Bishamon wrapped her arms around him tightly, rocking him back and forth gently and murmuring sweet-nothings into his ear. He grabbed on to her for dear life. Her arms were not the same shape as Yato's when he had hugged Yukine, and her words were not the ones he would have said. But maybe the essence was the same.

It's too bad I won't reincarnate. I think a gentler version of myself would suit Yukine better.