seven – find

This is not a good idea.

Oh no, Yukine thinks as he picks the lock to Hiyori's door, this is not a good idea.

He couldn't take it anymore. It was just too much. He'd lost count, in two weeks, how many hours he'd spent watching Yato work himself into the ground and tear himself to pieces inside. It was all a tireless cycle – eventually the days and nights bled into one collective mess of work-eat-sleep-repeat, and that was when Yukine decided to go see Hiyori for himself.

Asking Kazuma had not been an option. When Yato left after severing Hiyori's bonds, he'd made everyone – everyone – swear not to let him see her, or even to share any information about her. (Not that he was on the continent to get the information, but that was another matter entirely.) Yukine wasn't sure how things stood now that Yato had restored her memories – but Daikoku's threats had been for Yato only, so technically he couldn't break a promise that he himself had never made. Either way, Yukine correctly assumed that he would get nothing out of him, or Kazuma and Kofuku. So – he had nowhere to start. (And the brief visit with Yato didn't count. He'd bee too busy looking at his master to notice anything about the room or even the building they were in.) He left the God on a solo job with the rather flimsy excuse that he wanted to go for a walk, took matters into his own hands, and tried to go about things the old fashioned way.

That is: check every room in every Todai dorm building until he finds hers.

It was neither easy nor fast, and Yukine found himself still searching after an hour. (Later, he will realize that he could have just checked the dorm room registry in the lobby instead of wasting time walking the halls and peering into each room.) He got to the fifth floor, room twenty-seven, and nearly collapsed in relief when he saw her name on the small nameplate.

And that's where he is now: picking at her closed door, muttering to himself about how disorganized university students are – really, it can't be that hard to write your name on a nameplate can it? – and, if I were them I would have written my name, of course, I'm not an uncultured fucking swine, I'm not a lazy assho–

There.

With a satisfying click, the lock gives way and Yukine pushes the door open, entering silently. As he thought, she is not home.

He steps in carefully, surveying his surroundings. The room is small, like all single dorms are. There is a bed with a side table, a desk without a computer, a closet, and that's about it. Textbooks and notebooks are piled on a corner of the desk; posters cover the walls and clothes peek out of the slightly-ajar closet door. It's not much, but it's homely. Hiyori's really made it her own, Yukine thinks.

He moves to the closet door. It's covered, top to bottom, with pictures of Hiyori. She's with her friends in some of them, at school or at concerts or at Cappyper Land. Some are clearly form her high school days, Hiyori standing in her uniform, carrying books, pouring over a textbook. There are some from her graduation with her robes and cap. There are some pictures of her moving into her dorm room and some pictures from parties and still more pictures with her family, her parents and older brother, on vacation and at home. Gently, Yukine traces his fingers over the images. He can see her progression, her maturing, from a blushing high school girl to the lovely young woman that she is now.

Yukine's stomach flips uncomfortably and all at once being there feels wrong. This is not his home – this place is not for him. It is for Hiyori. She's built a life here, a life without him or Yato or Kofuku or Kazuma or any of them, and he feels like he is intruding on something very personal.

(A nagging thought in his head reminds him that there is a name for what he is doing, a specific term: trespassing. Breaking and entering.)

Yukine makes to leave, thinking only that he needs to get out of there before Yato realizes what a ridiculously long walk he is going on, when he hears the door rattle.

He freezes.

The door swings open slowly and Hiyori's voice drifts in, along with the rustle of plastic – "I locked it, I know I did" – and for a powerful Shinki, he feels more like an eight year old child caught stealing from the cookie jar. Which, in a sense, he is.

(Not a good idea, a voice echoes in his mind. Not a good idea.)

Hiyori looks up, then, eyes widening. A dark look passes over her face as she stops in the doorway. Yukine stands, immobile, waiting for the yelling and anger and accusations that he knows will come, waiting for her to raise hell, bracing himself to be slapped and thrown out, but –

"Oh. It's you."

Except for a small frown, Hiyori shows no emotion as she breezes past him. She is dressed snugly in long jeans and boots and a thick winter coat, and carries with her a few plastic bags which she places on her desk. She takes off her shoes and jacket and moves before Yukine, who just stands there staring at her dumbly until she clears her throat and looks pointedly at her closet. It takes him a moment to understand, then Yukine jerks away unsteadily, giving Hiyori space. Once finished, she sits down at her desk and fixes her gaze on the boy.

Yukine squirms. Hiyori blinks. Finally, after a long and awkward silence, she sighs.

"Is there something in particular you wanted?"

Yukine tries, but cannot form words with his fumbling tongue.

"What," Hiyori raises a brow, face hard, "cat got your tongue? Lost your ability to speak?"

"I – um, no. No." Yukine clears his throat. It's a start. "I – I'm sorry. I just came to see…you, I guess."

"Well, here I am. You've seen me. Anything else?"

"Um…" Yukine's eyes dart around the room wildly, uncomfortable beyond words. Hiyori senses this, and – suppressing a strange sort of gratification – shakes her head, sighs again.

"It's – ah, I guess it's okay," she says at last, voice just the slightest bit softer than before. "He's not with you?" she asks, and she's not proud of the way her voice trembles on the first word, but, hey – baby steps. At least she's speaking to Yukine. (And no longer throwing things.)

"No, he's doing a solo job."

"Ah." Hiyori pauses, regards Yukine seriously. "Listen, I don't have much time right now – I've got an essay I need to work on – so you have to go."

"Right. Right, I'll – I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you, I'll just – go."

Hiyori doesn't know what it is – perhaps his expression, his voice, his words – probably his entire presence, his desperate and yet somehow hopeful way of being – that makes her tell him, "Come back tomorrow."

Yukine stops. "What?"

"Come back tomorrow – if you want to talk, or whatever."

Yukine can't help himself – he feels his entire face light up, and bashfully directs his gaze to the floor, trying not to seem too excited. "Really?"

"Yeah, really." Hiyori bites her lip. "But only for a little bit. And alone – you have to come alone. If you bring him with you I won't –" She leaves the warning unfinished, but Yukine thinks he knows pretty well what she means.

"Alone, got it. Same time?"

"Sure."

Yukine nods enthusiastically and, with a single backwards glance, leaves. He walks quickly but his mind is in another world entirely. Optimism beats in his chest and pumps his legs all the way back.

. . . x X x . . .

"Okay, you're all set?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

Yukine tied the ends of his apron around his neck deftly and took his place behind the counter.

"Perfect," Yato smiled. "I'll be on my way, then. Be good, work hard. I'll see you later."

"So eager! You going to see Hiyori-chan?"

"Yes."

"Oh Gods – Daikoku, do you hear him? He's completely shameless. One month in and I swear it's still like the first day. They can't keep their hands off each other."

"Shut up and pour your soup, brat," he said half-heartedly. There was no bite to his words; he was fighting off a smile, in fact, trying and failing not to let Yukine see.

From the next room, Daikoku's rumbling chuckle rang out.

"Yeah, yeah. Have fun making kissy faces at each other."

"That's not the only thing we'll be doing." Yato winked. Giving him details he really doesn't want to know about – the only surefire way to shut Yukine up and simultaneously annoy him. The boy gagged and Yato smirked, satisfied. With a mock salute and a burst of blue, he disappeared, falling two seconds later on the soft cotton sheets that covered Hiyori's bed. (It's worth noting that flash-stepping is less of an exact science and more of an…approximate art. Gods never have the guarantee that they will land where they want to, although they do get more accurate as the years pass and they have more practice.)

(And Yato wasn't even aiming for the bed.)

Hiyori didn't seem to notice him, so with a wicked grin, Yato stood and creeped slowly towards her, coming to a stop just behind her chair. He waited, knowing it wouldn't be long until she –

"Holy shit!"

Hiyori cursed loudly, nearly falling out of her chair and Yato burst into laughter. He clutched at his sides, tears leaking from his eyes as Hiyori stood up and attacked him. Her fists rained on his chest and back and arms, more like tickles than actual punches.

"You're awful – argh, I hate you, you scared the crap out of me – you are so dead, Yato, you piece of –mmmpf –"

Her words were cut off as Yato wrapped his arms around her, his taller frame envelopping her entirely. He buried his face in his hair and breathed in deeply. Hiyori smelled like soap and lavender and everything that was good in the world. After a moment she relaxed in his grip, and her own arms wound around his waist

"How's my beautiful girlfriend today?" Yato's muffled voice reached her ears.

"Don't try to smooth-talk your way out of this," Hiyori replied, drawing away from the God. Hands resting on his shoulders, she gave him the best glare she could muster. "You scared me, you asshole."

"I'm sorry, darling. Let me make it up to you?"

Yato leaned down, pressed their lips together. He kissed her slowly, deeply, tongue tracing her lips – and Hiyori, momentary anger forgotten, opened her mouth to grant him access. His fingers moved up and down her back, drawing delicious patterns that made her shiver. Hiyori pressed herself nearer to him, hands fisting in his hair. A pleasant warmth spread from her abdomen. She needed him closer – closer – she needed him to kiss her – closer – kiss her and hold her – closer – and –

Then he wasn't.

Yato pulled back, leaning his forehead against hers. Hiyori's cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen red – she was everything beautiful the universe had ever created, rolled into one, and the sight of her had his heart literally skip a beat.

"Can you possibly forgive me?" he murmured lowly.

"Shut up and kiss me." Her voice was thick. Yato's pulse picked up. He wanted her.

He moved his mouth along her jaw and down her neck, kissing and licking and biting. Hiyori tilted her head and Yato found her pulse point, sucking lightly. He nipped the soft skin and Hiyori gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulder blades. Yato smirked and drew away, moving up her neck and back to her mouth, capturing her lips once more. (She tasted like heaven. He didn't think he would ever get enough of kissing her.) Hiyori took a few steps back, bringing Yato with her, until she felt the frame of the bed on the backs of her knees – her hips moved forward instinctively and Yato practically growled. His palms were flat on her spine, touch burning. She dragged her hands down his back, around his hips, and then slowly, carefully, slid them lower. Yato made a sound halfway between a moan and purr, deep and guttural, because dear Gods, she was good – her tongue was driving him crazy – crazy – and dear Gods, how he wanted her right then, but – no. No. He caught her wrist and pushed Hiyori away.

"You really," he said, "don't want to do that."

He stepped back. Hiyori sat on her bed with a huff.

"Yato, I –"

"No."

"But –"

"No."

"It's been a month!"

"I don't care. Not yet, okay?"

Hiyori pouted up at him. Yato stared down, unrelenting, and eventually Hiyori looked away, nodding. "Okay. Okay. Not yet."

Yato reached out a hand, cupping her cheek. "I'm sorry, babe. You understand, yeah? Don't be mad."

"No, of course not." And there Hiyori's eyes softened, because he was still worrying about her feelings even when it came to his own personal comfort. "Why would I be mad?If it's not something you're comfortable with, I'm not going to force you – that would be an incredibly shitty thing to do." Hiyori smiled and Yato grinned down at her and any tension in the air was gone.

"Thank you, darling." She waved him off, standing up, and moved towards her desk.

"It's better like this, actually. You have a mountain of work to finish."

Hiyori rolled her eyes, groaning. "Ugh, don't remind me."

"What's with all this extra math stuff?" Yato asked, thumbing the pages of a workbook.

"I'm taking a remedial class."

"What?"

"Yeah. I have to. The school sent a letter home to my parents and they freaked out, so now I have to take this math course to make up for it. I've been putting it off for like three days, I really don't want to – don't look at me like that." Yato was frowning, arms crossed. "I'll get it done, don't worry." A brow climbed higher and higher on his forehead – definitely time to change the subject, before he got into one of his lectures on her study habits. "Hey, new topic – have you found out anything about my condition?"

A vague look of alarm passed over Yato's face. "I – um. I haven't gotten the chance to ask around."

Hiyori sighed. "Right. It's just that – it would be really helpful not to lose myself so often, you know, and then have to spend time looking for my body. I could get more work done, and spend more time with you."

"But I like it when you're in spirit form. Your tail's super cute."

"Yato, I'm being serious here. Listen – I know you're busy and you've got jobs to do, but I'd really appreciate it if you could give this some attention too, alright?"

"Anything for you. I promise I'll look into it right away." No fight, no list of excuses for why he hadn't gotten to it. Things were different, now that they were together. There was a new sort of seriousness when dealing with matters that involved both of them – which wasn't to say that their relationship was heavy or overbearing. They were just committed to each other, and that meant more maturity, more understanding, and certainly a lot more patience.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Now – get to work. I'm seeing a lot of unanswered questions here."

"…Do I have to?"

"Yes," Yato chuckled. "You do. I'll leave you be."

"Can't you just distract me with your charm and devilish good looks?"

"Ooh, as tempting as that sounds – no. You need to finish your work."

Yato leaned in, giving Hiyori one more sweet, breathless kiss.

"See you later, darling."

Hiyori's breath ghosted across his lips. "Bye, sweetheart."

. . . x X x . . .

"Would you like black, green or white tea?"

"Black, please."

Hiyori pops the teabag into the steaming mug of water and pushes it down with a plastic spoon, poking it to get the flavour out faster.

"Honey, sugar?" she asks.

"No, thanks." There is a minute of silence as Hiyori makes her own cup – white, two teaspoons of honey – and Yukine watches, captivated by her moving hands. Her fingers are longer, he notices. Her movements are sharper. (She used to drink green tea with ginseng and lemon. No sugar, no honey.) His eyes roam over her room once more, this time taking in the smaller details he'd missed last time.

Her sheets are rumpled. Three pillows, big and fluffy, are splayed against the headboard; a book and a pair of glasses rest on the side table; loose papers, pens, pencils, highlighters are strewn across the desk. The corners of Hiyori's wrestling posters are frayed, and her curtains are yellowing at the seams. A tightness settles in his gut – even the smell in the room is the same. This is her, this is Hiyori, just as he remembers her, and Yukine feels like crying or throwing his arms around her or maybe both, and only holds himself back because she would probably murder him.

(Except.

Except, not quite. Even through his onslaught of memories and sudden rush of emotion, there is a small voice in the back of his head that tells him something is off. Much like the previous day, he feels somehow like he does not belong. There is something wrong with the room, with the atmosphere – while this is Hiyori as he remembers her, it is also Hiyori as he has never seen her before.)

"You like what you see?" Hiyori's voice snaps him out of reverie, her tone flat. She hands him the mug and he takes it, not feeling the singe on his fingertips.

"Uh – yeah. Your room is nice."

"Thanks."

Yukine shift uncomfortably, takes a sip of the burning liquid. It burns on the way down but he swallows it anyway. It tastes exactly like she used to make it, all those years ago. With a pang, he realizes that he's missed her more than he thought – and suddenly his visit isn't only about Yato anymore. He wants to talk to her. He wants to apologize directly and explain the story and make her understand that the both of them only wanted to protect her.

But Hiyori does not look like she is in the mood for a deep emotional discussion so he swallows his words instead and makes small talk about the first thing that comes to mind.

"So…you made it into Todai."

"Not at first. I got into Waseda with my parents' help and I transferred out after a year. I was lucky they took me."

"But you're here now."

"That I am."

"D'you like it? I mean, is it what you expected."

"I can't – complain, really. It's a really good school. Lots of work, of course, incredibly heavy course load, but it's getting me where I want to go."

"Medicine, right."

"Kind of. Genetic and molecular biology, for research in aging and genetic diseases."

"No more neurosurgery?"

"Unfortunately, no. My dad was very disappointed that I'd changed my mind – he was looking forward to getting me a position at his hospital – but mom was happy. She said surgery would have been too much work. It would have ruined my 'delicate hands'."

Yukine laughs, recalling Mrs. Iki's constant worrying and fretting – and, to his surprise, Hiyori's lips pull up at the corners in the slightest hint of a smile.

"That sounds like her, yeah. Does your dad still keep a permanent stock of beer in the fridge?"

"Yeah."

"Shit – actually?"

"'Course. He takes one every night with his dinner. My mom complains about it all the time."

"Oh, Gods," Yukine shakes his head, smiling. "Some things never change. Hey – do you still procrastinate like crazy?"

"No." Hiyori sounds almost…affronted. "I do my work very diligently, thank you very much."

"Unlike in high school."

"Don't remind me." Hiyori rolls her eyes and drowns the rest of her tea. She places the bug on her desk and leans back in her chair.

"You used to put everything off until the last moment, remember?"

"I had a reason – something to distract me, something to look forward to." Hiyori pauses. "I don't anymore."

Yukine's smile drops instantly. He'd been so close – so close. She'd been loosening up, if only marginally. For an instant it'd been almost like old times, chatting over tea – but he just had to fuck up and open his mouth about the past.

"Hiyori, I – fuck. Fuck. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring that up."

"It's fine," she says, though she doesn't sound like she minds it. "If I didn't want to hear anything about the past I wouldn't have invited you back." There is a pause, and Hiyori looks like she is deliberating continuing. Yukine remains silent, bated breath, until she speaks again. "I…don't know how to really say this so it's – uh – totally cool if you don't want to answer. But I need to get it off my chest and ask." She stops again, choosing her words. "What happened after…after my bonds were cut? To you, I mean."

"Ah."

A new weight presses on his shoulders, and Yukine knows that what he says now, how he answers her, will affect their relationship forever. She is giving him something he never imagined she would: an impossible chance to tell her the truth and explain the whole situation.

"That's a good question," Yukine says after some time. "Lots of things happened, mostly bad. We…left the country."

Hiyori takes a sharp breath, and it is more emotion than she's shown the entire conversation. "What."

"Tokyo was too small for both of us in it, even being on opposite ends of the city, so – we left."

"Where did you go?"

"America, for a while, but that stint didn't last long. Seattle for a few months, and then England. For four years." Hiyori does not reply. (Alright, here we go. Decisive moment time – this will make it or break it.)

"It was –"

"You know," she interrupts, "I've never actually thought about your role in this. You weren't with him the night he severed our bonds."

"No."

"I thought so. You – you didn't know about it beforehand, did you?"

"I had a bad feeling – instincts, you know, I should have fucking trusted my gut but I didn't. I didn't know until the night of. I was at Kofuku's shop. He'd been gone all day, I was going to go looking for him – I remember I was just standing up and Daikoku cast a spell, like a bind but like three hundred fucking times more powerful. I was helpless." He pauses. "Do you want to know something?"

"Yeah," she replies, and though her tone is reluctant her eagerness betrays her. She clears her throat. "Yeah, go ahead."

"I beat him up afterwards."

"You – what?" That merits a smile, he thinks, but there is none. No humor, not today.

"He got home and he looked like shit but I was livid so I just – attacked. I didn't really know what I was doing to be honest, but Yato just took it. He let me rip into him."

"But I don't – I don't understand. Why did you go with him if you were so mad? You say you were 'livid', but you left anyway…"

"Daikoku wouldn't let me go, not until he was satisfied that I wouldn't attack Yato again. I wanted nothing to do with him anyway, so he left. I saw him again maybe – three months? Yeah, three months later. He came back to get food or money or some shit from Kofuku and he looked terrible. Awful, Hiyori, just absolute crap – like he was dying – which, in retrospect, I think he might have been. It was the sight of him that did it. He was pathetic, falling apart, and I still somehow felt this stupid sense of duty – or obligation? – towards him. I had to help."

Hiyori presses her lips into a thin line. "So, what – you help him out, and he just all of a sudden decides to leave the country?"

Yukine swallows hard.

"It was difficult," he answers. "It was incredibly difficult being so near you and unable to see you. It didn't work at all, not even for a little bit – I had to restrain him from more than a few times – but to be honest staying was a pretty shit idea to begin with. I didn't want to go. Leaving Tokyo – leaving you, that is – was the hardest fucking decision I have ever made in my life, and I hated it every single goddamn second we were in that country."

And oh-kay, there goes his control and carefully chosen words, out the window.

"It was torture, Hiyori. I missed you like crazy, like – fuck, like everything I've ever missed in my life put together, if that makes any sense. I was so fucking bitter and the situation was so shitty, way worse than life here ever was, and some nights I had to physically tie myself down to keep from blowing up and destroying everything around me. So yeah, it sucked ass. It was awful. But – there's always a but, you know – I got through it because, eventually, I realized that my missing you was nothing compared to the way Yato missed you, and the pain that he was going through."

Yukine knows the words were a mistake even before they left his mouth, and Hiyori pressing her lips in a thin line only confirms it, but he doesn't care anymore. He has to tell her everything.

"It was stupid and I was selfish," he says urgently, speaking faster and faster. "I wanted to make a big deal about how I missed you – you were family, Hiyori, and you still are, even though I know that –"

"Stop –"

"– even though I know that I'm no longer family to you, you're still the best fucking older sister I never had and yeah, I missed you – but it was so much worse for Yato, so much worse. You were his girlfriend, Hiyori, he loved you –"

"Enough, Yukine, stop –"

"– he loved you so fucking much, you have no idea. I swear it was like losing a limb for him, or having his fingernails ripped out one by one or something super crappy like that and yes I know I'm rambling but you don't get the kind of pain he was going through – the kind of pain he's still going through – how fucking guilty and awful he feels about what he did and – and what am I saying, he still loves you, Hiyori, he loves you more every day and he misses you and you have to understand that what he did, he did out of love and concern for you and –"

"ENOUGH!"

Yukine recoils back, almost as if struck, mind going blank. A single phrase repeats in his brain over and over and over – you have fucked up. Hiyori is almost shaking – she sits, fists clenched, and takes in a deep, shuddering breath. When she speaks, her voice trembles.

"Leave."

Yukine feels his throat close up. "But –"

"This – this was a mistake, dragging up all the – if I knew that all you were going to do was spew lies to my face I never would have asked you here. Just go, Yukine."

The Shinki rises slowly, wavering. "Hiyori, I –"

"NOW."

It happens too fast for Hiyori herself to register – in under a second her hand has wrapped itself around her empty tea mug and thrown it at Yukine. The boy barely dodges; it misses him by a hair's breadth and shatters against the wall behind him with a loud crash.

"I'm – I'm sorry," Yukine chokes out. Wide-eyed, he scrambles out of the room as fast as he can.

Hiyori does not move from her place. The crash of the mug echoes in her ears, the sound of porcelain on wall, of broken hope and overwhelming pain. She can't take it anymore. She draws her knees to her chin, buries her head in the worn material of her jeans. Hot tears leak from her eyes.

For the first time since she regained her memories, Hiyori cries.

07/10/2014 - So...I'm not dead?

I know, I know! Absent for the better part of two months, it's awful! Please, before you attack me for the incredible lateness let me apologize - I am so, so, so sorry for how late this chapter is! Words cannot describe my remorse and how apologetic I am. However, let me also tell you what has happened in this time, not as an excuse, but to let you guys know exactly how stressful and work-filled these past weeks have been. So, since the last update I have:

- gone to London, England (and fallen in love with the country)
- gone to Romania (saw my family again for the first time in almost seven years)
- gone to a wedding (it was amazing)
- come back from Europe (a total of 5 flights there and back)
- missed the first week of school
- caught up on the first week of school
- joined drama club
- wrote three one-act play scripts
- got two of those three scripts in for the performance night
- gotten a directing and acting position in two other plays respectively
- failed a physics unit test
- aced a math unit test
- built a kitsune mask out of clay for history class
- went to several universities fairs (and stressed myself out about it)
- started calculus, physics, and fencing outside of school
- settled into general work mode

So, as you can tell - not a lot of free time. (Also, airplanes are surprisingly shitty places to write. Loud and annoying and my back was stiff.) Still, I somehow managed to sit down and find the time to get this chapter done. It was so hard, let me tell you guys. Life has a way of sneaking up on you and taking over, and it was stifling my creativity. Not going to lie, I'm not exactly pleased with how this came out, especially the middle part. But it's out here, once and for all. Clearly this story is taking a lot longer than I originally thought it would, but I am determined to see it to the end. I will finish it eventually, I promise you guys. (Advance warning though - with all the stuff that's going on, I have no idea when the next update is going to be.) That being said, thank you so very much for all the follows, reviews, and favourites, they mean the world to me. You're amazing human beings and I love you all. As usual, comments and criticism are welcome and much appreciated. Thanks for reading, and I'll see you next time!

Published also on my AO3 account ~sayanora_fallinlove