That was when she was standing there before his eyes. For a moment, there was no movement, no sound. Nothing but the constant downpour of the cold rain. With each drop was the harmony of another few million colliding to the ground. This rain was the sky’s tears as it sensed the sorrow of the two outside.
“This is on you, Yato…” Kofuku said with a heavy heart, knowing it wouldn't be easy. She closed the shrine door behind him, giving them privacy to talk.
The silence went on for another second.
Yato ripped his gaze away from Hiyori, and stared down at his boots. Hiyori took a step forward, her shoe splashing in a shallow puddle. Each step grew in volume as she got closer.
Yato clutched his fist until it hurt. He could see her feet in his line of vision. He slowly looked up at her, terrified of what she’d say.
But as soon as Yato’s brilliant blue eyes locked onto Hiyori's gaze, she nervously wandered her pink eyes away from him.
“Hiyori, what...what are you doing here?”
“What are you talking about? I come here everyday.” She laughed a little, but when Yato looked away in dismay, Hiyori’s grin faded.
She tilted her head to follow the god’s blue eyes, but Yato closed them as if he was struggling.
“Yato…? What’s going on?” Hiyori whispered to him, worried about the answer.
“Nothing. I got it under control. Just go home and don’t worry about it.” Yato insisted, trying to motion her to leave.
However, Hiyori knew otherwise.
“‘Go home? Don’t worry?’ You said the same thing last night!” The anger began to build up in her voice, and Yato knew this wouldn’t end well.
“Yeah, cuz it-” Yato's nervous eyes wandered away from Hiyori’s to attempt to think of an excuse “It’s not big deal!”
Hiyori was now confused. “If it's not a big deal, then why don't you tell me what's going on?”
Yato understood his mistake right away, and didn’t know what to do. So, he rested his sturdy hands on her delicate shoulders and told her without looking her in the eyes, “I told you it wasn’t a big deal...cuz I’m gonna fix it. Okay?”
Hiyori’s eyes narrowed in sadness. She stared at Yato even if she couldn’t see his face.
“Yato…?” She mumbled.
There was a moment of silence between them before Hiyori spoke again.
“Look, I get it. It’s fine if you don’t wanna tell me, but at least let me go inside and see Koji for a little bit.”
That was when Yato’s head shot upward and his shaking eyes stared into Hiyori’s clueless ones. His hands almost immediately released their hold of her, and he took a cautious step back.
“What?” She asked, curiously and slightly frightened. “What is it? Did I say something?”
“N-no, it’s nothing. I just…” the god’s voice trailed off.
That was when Hiyori remembered. “Kofuku called me last night, Yato. Whatever it is, she clearly thinks I need to know as well as you do.”
Yato froze so suddenly, it seemed like a bullet had struck him through the chest. His eyes averted her gaze again, his face darkening.
For a moment, the only sound was the consistent raindrops as they met the ground by the couple’s feet. Hiyori stepped closer to Yato, a tiny puddle splashing under her loafer.
“Hiyori, stop…” he whispered in a dark tone.
Hiyori refused to listen now, and stepped towards the shrine. Yato, of course, quickly reacted and ran in front of her.
“Wha-Yato! Honestly!” Hiyori said, sounding disgusted and angry. “You were fine before I mentioned-”
Hiyori stopped herself, realizing what this whole thing was all about.
“Koji…” Hiyori whispered, which sent a chill down Yato’s spine.
He winced, the sound of his child’s name sounding unpleasant to his ears. With his disturbing expression, Hiyori got her answer.
She stepped back, all of her distress coming at her at full force. With that, a sudden dizziness and weakness followed. She stumbled to her knees in the mud.
Suddenly, the taste of iron came up from her throat, and so much of the thick liquid arose that Hiyori coughed it up, using her hand to cover her mouth.
Yato immediately came to her side, kneeling down beside her with a supporting hand on her back.
“Hiyori!” He cried, worried. “Are you alright?”
Hiyori looked up from her bloody palm, startled, and quickly wiped her hand in the mud to get rid of the evidence.
“I’m fine, just a little sick,” Hiyori answered, her words coming out rickety from choking back tears.
Hiyori was well past a “little sick.” She didn’t know exactly what was going on, but she knew it wasn’t normal, and she was frightened. For her life, the fact that if Hiyori died, she wouldn’t get to see her friends and family, or remember the ones she loved in the Far Shore.
Just when Hiyori thought that Yato was slipping from her grasp, now it was her who was slipping from his.
Why couldn’t she tell him that something was wrong with her? Was it because she didn’t want him to hurt as well, or was it because saying it would make it more real? Or maybe because she actually believed the sickness would pass?
Even though she was concerned about it, Hiyori's tears were for her son.
“Where is he, Yato?” Hiyori asked, facing him with her damaged expression. And then, as she broke down in front of him, she mumbled something that only he could hear.
“Where’s our baby…?”
Yato didn’t answer at first. He allowed Hiyori into his warm arms and let her cry to her heart's desire in the spring rain that surrounded them.
“I don’t know…” Yato whispered in her ear, his warm breath tickling her ear. His voice broke as he apologized over and over.
As his mind wandered, Yato realized that Hiyori wasn’t truly happy. He could hear it in her endless sobs. She was truly broken, ruined, destroyed. And what was he? A god of calamity, a god of destruction. This was his doing. He had done it again, without even trying. On the most important person in his life.
He held her as if he was squeezing out all the guilt that tightened in his chest. Hiyori’s wailing pierced Yato’s ears and snuck into his cracking heart. His tears came slowly, his teeth gritted together and his head beginning to buzz from all of the alcohol he had.
. . . . . .
Daikoku stepped into the kitchen, spotting Kofuku right away as she sat at the low table and stared at the door to the shrine.
“Where’d Yato go?” Daikoku asked.
Kofuku glanced over at her Regalia, and turned her head back around to keep her eyes on the door that was kept open ajar.
Daikoku followed her gaze, and stepped towards the door. Through the cracks it provided, the sight of Yato and Hiyori standing outside caught his eye.
“I see…” he said, and was about to exit the room when Kofuku caught up with him and pulled him back.
“Daikoku, matte!” Kofuku looked up at him with a worried expression.
Although he very rarely saw his Master that way, Daikoku stood, unfazed. His Master was about to open her mouth again - most likely to ask something, but he spoke up before her instead.
“I have nothing to say about this.” Daikoku said, rather angrily. Even his expression showed how pissed he was, but he kept to himself.
Kofuku released her hold of him, seeing how he was just a hopeless case, and so, Daikoku wandered off into the other room.
Daikoku didn’t even bother to rant about the missing beer cans from the fridge being scattered across the table.
. . . . .
Yato stepped back in the shrine, now accompanied by his lover. Their eyes were puffy and red, their soaked clothes stuck to their skin and their hair dripping by their feet. Their fingers were entwined in each other’s between them.
Kofuku slowly peeked up at them from where she sat with sad eyes and a deep frown.
“Hey, Hiyorin,” she greeted, gently.
Hiyori gave her friend a glimpse of a sad smile.
“C’mon, sweetie,” Yato whispered, carefully taking Hiyori by her hand to lead her to the bathroom. “We should go dry off.”
Hiyori slowly nodded, wiping away a tear, and followed.
Almost as soon as Yato closed the bathroom door behind them, Hiyori threw her arms around the god, seeking his comfort. Of course, he returned the affection, holding close enough that her boobs pressed against his chest.
This was the girl’s way of saying “things are tough right now, and I want you.”
Yato grabbed a towel and threw it over Hiyori’s head.
Hiyori stared at her feet as she released Yato.
What do you do when your Far Shore child runs away? Should you search for them yourself, or call the police? The answer is neither.
There’s no telling what kind of trouble they got into, or where they could even be. The police wouldn’t notice an invisible kid who goes missing. Humans wouldn’t even see them wandering around hopelessly or get kidnapped on the streets.
All you do is wait and hope. Hope is all you have. If you’re really that desperate, you can go pray to the gods about it. But even then, you shouldn’t for that either when the gods are the ones you’re jeering your child a secret from.
So, in reality, there was no hope. In fact, they had nothing. Nothing but broken hearts and teary eyes.
It’s one thing to kidnap someone, but everyone knows...you don’t steal from a god, especially not their own child - a especially not a god of calamity.
Yato began rubbing the brunette’s wet hair, which made her look up at him.
Because he were already staring down at her, their eyes locked onto each other’s gaze. They probably stared for another minute, before Yato finally leaned toward her. Her eyelashes fluttered as she closed her pink eyes.
They continued to lean in slowly until they felt each other’s soft lips. For a moment, reality slipped away, and all of their problems vanished.
. . . . .
By the time dinner came around, Yukine fought to keep himself from losing his patience with his uncontrollable Master, who was busy laughing at nothing. He took a sip of beer and laughed harder.
Hiyori glanced up at him for a second, but then stared back down at her plate, not seeming to care. She was so hungry that she had managed to finish the last crumb, but now she felt sick again. So sick, in fact, that she might throw up.
“G-gomen’nasai,” Hiyori apologized, rising from where she sat. “Excuse me.”
With that, Hiyori quickly took off in the direction of the bathroom, her hand covering her mouth. She locked the door behind her.
. . . . .
Now that Yukine was alone with Yato in the attic room, he couldn't hold back anymore. His anger was spilling out of him every time his Master cackled or rambled on about all of Yukine’s weaknesses.
“What kind of a 14 year old doesn't know how to write?” He practically cried, kicking his feet as he laughed on the floor.
Yukine's eyebrow twitched, and he thought he would’ve snapped his pencil.
“The kind that’s been dead for so long!” The Regalia snapped back, rising from the table.
That was when Hiyori entered the room, a distant and sorrowful expression spread across her face. The first person to know notice her, of course, was Yato.
“Ahhh! There's my Hiyoriii!” He cheered, lifting a can of beer in the air.
Yukine's head twisted air round to see his friend in the doorway. “Uh, hey, Hiyori.” He sat back down.
Hiyori didn't respond to either of them. She gave a sad sniffle, and sat down by Yato, still keeping her distance as if not to get caught up in his drunken antics.
The girl wiped away a tear, sighing in exhaustion.
“Hey, why ya upset?” He asked, not dropping his cheerful, taunting mood.
“It’s nothing,” Hiyori mumbled and turned away, a sign of annoyance in her tone, but Yato came closer.
“Awww, c’mon!” He said, shaking his beer in front of her. “Have a sip. It's good!”
Hiyori tried to ignore him.
Yato was incredibly drunk. He wasn’t there to support or comfort her tonight. He was there to tease and play with her.
Yato put his can aside, his mind and body seeking something else now.
“Oy, Hiyoriii…?” He sang mystically in her ear, sending a shiver down her back.
Her head quickly spun around so that she faced the god in surprise. With a smirk forming on his face, Yato slowly crept on his hands and knees over to his lover.
“Yeah - I think I’ll just leave now.” Yukine said loudly, getting to his feet and gathering up all of his homework to go downstairs.
When Yukine left, Hiyori was once again greeted by Yato’s dirty expression. Hiyori was then up against a wall, being leaned over by him. His hand reached up her leg and in her skirt.
Hiyori held her breath, her eyes closed. She knew he was close when she could smell the alcohol coming from his breath.
His lips brushed up against hers, eventually causing Hiyori to give in a little. It felt so wrong because of the unfortunate situation they were in, but, to be honest, the fact that Yato was drunk and playing with her, made her heart thump faster than it should’ve.
Hiyori wanted to refuse, but Yato continued. His other hand pulled the ribbon undone on her school uniform. His lips released their hold on hers, and he went down to her neck.
Hiyori held back the sound rising in the back of her throat.
Yato moved her collar aside from her shoulder to make room for his lips. He laughed to himself, still pressing a kiss on her shoulder.
“Yato, stop it…” Hiyori whispered to him, her voice shaking.
When the god looked at her, that was when he noticed the tears streaming down her pale face. As soon as she felt her lover back off, Hiyori scrambled to her feet and ran out of the room, leaving Yato clueless and lonely in his room.
. . . . .
“Don’t take it so seriously, Hiyorin.” Kofuku had said to her friend, trying to convince her out of her slump. “Yatty’s probably just dealing with his guilt about what happened to Koji. He’s not celebrating or anything.” She explained, her expression and tone both serious and sympathetic.
“But why would he feel that way? It’s not his fault Koji’s missing. He was with me last night when it happened.” Hiyori asked, confused.
At that moment, she was impatient and desperate for answers. She had known that god since she was fifteen, but she still had trouble figuring him out sometimes. She never knew when he was suffering because he either covered it up or just .seemed distant.
“Maybe that was his mistake?” Kofuku pointed out, and probably for the first time ever, Hiyori realized how wise the goddess of poverty was.
Hiyori stared at her, and blinked, surprised. She let that sink in for a minute before nodding.
“Hiyori!” Yukine’s voice called as he entered the kitchen. In his hand, he carried an umbrella.
“Hm?” She turned her head to see Yukine walking towards her.
“The rain stopped, but you should take this with you in case.” He told his friend, handing the umbrella over to her.
Hiyori grinned. “Uh, arigato, Yukine.”
Yukine smiled back, and was about to walk away when Hiyori stopped him.
“Matte! Yukine!”
“Huh?” He came to a halt and turned over his shoulder.
With a half-sad, half-happy smile, Hiyori said, “Make sure you keep an eye on Yato for me. He’s my god, too.”
Yukine blushed slightly and nodded once.