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"Come back… come back..!"
Yato's body is bent over hers as his hands push relentlessly into her chest. Thirty compressions, two breaths. Thirty compressions, two breaths. Thirty compressions… two breaths…
Right at the end of the longest night, Yato's lips touch hers for the last time.
His left hand is not lifting her chin anymore.
His right hand is not pinching her nose anymore.
He is not there anymore.
Hiyori's eyes open to a dark room.
Her nose instantly picks up on the smell in the air around her, the unmistakable mix of disinfectant and medications. There's a narrow strip of sterile white under the door of her ward from the round-the-clock corridor lights, but the rest of the room is immersed in darkness save for the screen of the heart monitor beeping steadily next to her headboard. They really should have taken it away by now, but…
Hiyori's eyes shift to the corner of the room. Her mother's head is tilted uncomfortably over the back of her chair, her eyes closed shut. She doesn't need to be here either, because Hiyori is not bedridden; she can even walk around without an IV bag, not that there is much to see in a relatively small hospital somewhere in the frozen north. If the Iki General Hospital was still afloat, her mother would have insisted on having her transferred there immediately; since that's not an option, she is staying in the ward for now, overlooking her daughter's treatment.
It is as touching as it is frustrating to see her mother like this, her face gaunt with worry, a deep crease in her brows that doesn't go away even when she's asleep. Hiyori's family is yet to say a word about how they found her up north after almost a week since she was reported missing, alerted by the hospital staff. No one seems to remember how exactly she ended up at the hospital, but the records are there. Iki Hiyori, aged 16, admitted early in the morning on January 1, accompanied by two kids whose names don't appear in the record.
But Hiyori knows.
She knows that it was Yukine and Nora who carried her all the way to the nearest hospital. That she doesn't have a tail anymore, and that she has another name now, a name as pretty as the snow that covered Yato's head while he desperately clung to her body until…
What she doesn't know is how.
How she was able to retain her memories even after a blood red seal appeared on her foot. How she did not break down when she saw Yato, Yukine and Nora kneeling next to her lifeless body. How her voice never carried to them over the water to tell them that even with her new name she was still their Hiyori-
How she is going to keep on living when Yato is gone because of her.
The stinging behind her eyes is unbearable. It's a good thing her mother is asleep, so Hiyori doesn't need to hold back the tears and the barely audible sobs. A few days ago she was careless enough to start crying with Sayuri still in the room, and it was a blessing in disguise that her mother thought it was because of the broken ribs that still hurt like hell. Ever since then Hiyori has tried her best to distract herself with random thoughts during the day; her family doesn't need to be troubled any more than they already are after all the grief she has caused them.
It's different during the night, when her mother falls asleep and there are no doctors or nurses fussing around her, or other patients to chat with. That's when the memories come back full force, and Hiyori is yet to learn how to rein them in and stop them from taking over. Even when she makes conscious attempts to recall some of the earlier, happier times, her mind still circles back to the first night of the new year. It's hard to tell which is more painful: the quiet desperation Yato, Yukine and Nora's continuous attempts to bring her back until snow piled up on their heads and shoulders, or that she only remembers it as a mere spectator. Yato's lips touched hers so many times that night, and yet she can't even remember what it feels like… not even that last one…
The pain in her fractured ribs is nothing compared to the pain of her broken heart.
Hiyori has always dreaded the day Yato would have to cut their ties. Even if it came to that - though she has hoped that they still had at least a couple of years left - she has thought that by the time it happened Yato would have enough followers to go on even if she couldn't remember him any longer. It has never been a happy thought, but it's so much better than the reality she now lives in.
One where Yato gave her his last breath.
˖⠀𓇬⠀˖
At the end of January Hiyori is released from the hospital.
She would have been home at least two weeks ago if her mother didn't insist that with Hiyori's history of "narcolepsy" she had to be kept there for at least a month. Hiyori didn't protest much after she'd overheard Sayuri telling the doctors that she couldn't risk her only daughter falling over before her ribs even began to heal. She's decided not to tell her family yet that she will not be falling over any longer, or that she's never had narcolepsy in the first place. There is no way she could convince them it will never happen again without having to explain everything, and Hiyori is still not sure if she'ill ever be able to do that anytime soon, if at all.
The room in her late grandmother's house is exactly the same as she left it a whole month ago. As soon as she closes the door behind her, her eyes are anchored to the writing desk, and her heart starts beating a little faster.
There is a tiny wooden house in the corner of the table.
Her chest hurts at the sight of it in a way that is nothing like the dull ache of her slowly healing ribs. Still, Hiyori takes it in her hands and looks at it closely. The miniature offering box with a clumsily scratched crown on it wouldn't fit a single five yen coin even if it wasn't just a rectangular block of wood with some lines drawn over it by a marker, but it's still a shrine, as real as the giant Fushimi Inari complex she visited on a school trip a couple of years back, or the familiar Yushima shrine she went to every New Year's Eve long before she got to meet the god enshrined in it.
Her finger gently touches a small plaque on the torii, tracing over the characters she has carved into it so many months ago.
夜ト
A wet splotch appears on the roof of the tiny house when Hiyori presses it to her chest.
It is not the size of this shrine that makes it different from those bigger and better ones with their festivals, priests, shrine maidens and a constant string of visitors.
Unlike those, this is a shrine without a god.
"Please, come back…"
There is no point in clapping her hands twice and pressing her palms together, but she does it anyway.
"Come back just the way you were…"
Speaking is hard when she's choking on her own tears, but she needs to say the last bit. Her voice trembles, quiet, barely above whisper, but at least she's saying it out loud.
"Yato…"
˖⠀𓇬⠀˖
Hiyori wakes up in the middle of the night again, but for the first time in a whole month she's in her own bed instead of the hospital cot. Out of habit, she glances to the corner of the room where her mother would be resting if they were still in the ward.
Sayuri is not in the room… but Hiyori is not alone.
She sits up and leans against the window, staring at the dark figure at the edge of her bed. Her heart beats so loudly in her chest that it might just crack her ribs all over again.
Even in the dark Yato's eyes are the same vibrant blue.
Hiyori is too stunned to say that he looks like he's been plucked straight out of her memories, jersy and all. His eyes are big and round in his surprise, but they are not the eyes of a newly reincarnated god or some twisted lookalike. The moment she meets his gaze, all too familiar heat floods her cheeks, and her eyes well up again.
It's him.
"Hiyori…"
Her hands clasp her mouth before she can stop herself.
Only her Yato would say her name like this, with quiet longing imbued in every syllable.
Hiyori swallows hard before reaching out with her hand. Her heart skips a beat when her fingers grasp the fabric of the jersey that covers his arm, his solid, actually-there arm that presses into her mattress, wrinkling the bedsheets.
"Yato…"
She slams into his body, forgetting her aching ribs or that she is in her pajamas and should really kick him out of her bed like a proper, modest girl. His hands wrap around her just as tightly, and she can hear his loud exhale behind her back. Hiyori buries her face in his shoulder, wetting the dark fabric without meaning to. Without her ayakashi senses his scent is not nearly as strong, but when she's this close to his skin, she can still smell it, as faint as it is. Her body is shaking so badly that she doesn't even notice that it's not just her until she hears a suppressed sob next to her ear.
"You're alive…"
"You're alive…"
The pain in Hiyori's ribs increases when she hugs Yato even tighter, reminding her of what he had to do in his attempt to bring her back. She couldn't fault him for it if she wanted to, but she holds back the cry of pain building up in her lungs because she can't trust him not to disappear as soon as he's not in her arms anymore. This isn't the only reason though; in truth, she isn't sure if she can handle herself if she looks into his eyes again, so she hides her face in the collar of his jersey, soaking up his presence and the warmth of his body.
"Tell me this isn't a dream," Hiyori says once her voice is steady enough to let her speak in complete sentences.
"I'm not sure," Yato responds with a quiet sigh. "I really hope it isn't though."
His grip on her pajama top tightens.
"I couldn't bear to lose you a second time."
Hiyori bites back her retort that she should be the one saying this.
"Do you know what date it is?" she asks cautiously instead.
"I… don't think so," Yato answers after a while. "Why? Is that important?"
"It's been a month, Yato."
Hiyori is still not ready to face him, but she doesn't protest when he pulls away and looks at her in confusion.
"This… can't be," he mutters, almost as if he's talking to himself and not to her. "The last thing I remember is-"
He shuts his mouth and looks down, avoiding her gaze. It's rare to see him this flustered, and it makes Hiyori feel a little better about not being able to meet his gaze for more than a second.
"Is..?"
She realizes her mistake when Yato looks up at her abruptly. If he's not aware of being gone for a whole month, then the last thing he remembers is-
"Y-you don't need to tell me if you don't want to," Hiyori tries to backtrack, waving her hands in front of her. "I-it's really none of my business-"
Yato gently grabs her wrists and lowers her hands onto the blanket, and now there is nothing between her eyes and his.
"It kinda is," he says quietly. Hiyori can feel his palms getting clammier by the second, but he doesn't try to take his hands away, and she's silently grateful for it. "When I saw that nothing I did was working, the only thing I could think of-"
He falters for a second before gently squeezing her fingers.
"All I could think of was that I would give you all of me if that's what it took to bring you back, and that the only way to do it was-"
Hiyori's blush deepens when Yato licks his lips.
"-to kiss you," he finishes in a quiet, gentle voice.
"I-it wasn't anything creepy," Yato says after a while, mistaking her silence for virtuous indignation. "I just wasn't sure if there was any other way to do it, or if it would even work-"
"H-how can you say that so casually?" Hiyori asks at last. It's hard to keep her voice from trembling, and even harder to look him in the eye when the entire past month without him flashes by in her mind. "How could you- you just- you had no right!!"
Hiyori shuts her mouth as she realizes that Yato could have easily said that back to her.
She is surprised when he doesn't.
"Someone said to me recently that it's harder to see someone you love die," he says instead, and Hiyori knows for sure that his face is as red as hers now even if she can't tell it in the dark.
She reaches up to his face, and her heart melts from the way he leans into her hand on his cheek.
"It is," she whispers, raising her other hand to his face as well.
His skin really is so hot under her fingers.
"I'm sorry, I… don't know what it feels like."
"Huh?"
"The k-kiss. I only saw it, but I have no memories of what it… felt… like..."
Yato sighs. "I-it's fine. It's not like I was trying to show off my skills or anything there. I just… I guess even if I didn't realize it at the time, there was a part of me that thought that it was something that you… wanted…"
He sighs again, even deeper this time.
Hiyori can't bear the dejected look on his face.
"Want," she says quietly but firmly. "Not 'wanted'. Want."
Her heart rate picks up when his hand covers hers, and he gives her a smile she hasn't seen in months.
"Make a wish, Hiyori."
His face is much closer to hers than it was just moments ago.
"Let me kiss you… Yatogami."
He does keep still for a few seconds, allowing Hiyori to take his bottom lip into her mouth and suck on it lightly before switching to the top one. She doesn't really know what she's doing; after all, she has never kissed anyone before despite having been kissed twice now.
She is about to pull away in embarrassment when she feels Yato's hand on the back of her head.
"You said you don't remember what it felt like," he whispers urgently, and Hiyori can't help feeling tingly all over from the way his lips brush lightly against hers because of how close he is.
Yato inhales deeply before tilting his head to the left and crashing his mouth against hers, and Hiyori can feel what he meant when he said he would give all of himself to her. The desperation is palpable in the movement of his lips, in the fingers tangling the hair on the back of her head, in the way his whole body is pressed against hers. Her head starts spinning from the lack of air when he pulls away from her, breathing heavily, and Hiyori's heart pangs sharply when she notices a tear in the corner of his eye.
"For me, it felt like this."
She hugs him, hiding her face in his shoulder once again.
"Please don't ever kiss me like this again," she sobs into the damp fabric of his jersey. "I don't want you to give all of yourself to anyone again, not even to me…"
Yato lets her cry it out in silence, stroking her back tenderly until she stops shaking.
"I couldn't do it if I tried, Hiyori," he says once she's stopped sobbing, raking his hands in her hair.
"You c-couldn't?" she hiccups, gazing into his eyes.
"No, I couldn't," Yato says with a candid smile that makes her heart flutter uncontrollably.
"You already have all of me."