disclaimer: i own nothing.

a/n: rewrite of the thing i posted months ago on tumblr. though i'm supposed to be doing my homework and not rewriting anything but nobody cares so.

a/n2: jumping from one fandom to another because i can. hah.

. . .

Yukine likes to think that he is a good boy.

(Well, better than before.)

He may have done many misdeeds in the past (resulting him in almost killing the only father-brother figure he probably would ever have), but he changed for the better— working hard every day, whether it was studying or making money to repay his debts.

And every day (though Yato would sometimes be overly irritating that he wants to punch him in the face), he realizes that he is having fun.

This odd, new life of his isn't bad. No, not at all.

He finds that he actually quite liked it.

. . .

His master can be hard to read sometimes.

But it is so very painfully obvious that he is hurting and bleeding inside because Hiyori doesn't remember.

Him. Only him.

Yukine doesn't know how it feels like to be forgotten by Hiyori (and he plainly prefers for it to stay that way) but the flash of raw agony and anguish in Yato's usually cheerful, carefree eyes indicates that it had struck deeper than ever possible.

So when Yato had said to forget about it— forget about Hiyori; her smiles, kindness, laughter and all like how she did to him— it had felt as if he was slapped across the face.

Hard.

The very concept of Yato ignoring this particular problem is unfathomable— completely, utterly Impossible.

(Yes, with a capital I.)

Yato simply cares for Hiyori too much. It wasn't hard for him— or anyone really— to see. Yato had never tried particularly hard in hiding how much he cared for her. (Though if he did, he was horrible at it.)

There must be very, very good reason why.

(Why had Yato been wiling enough to let go of this like he doesn't bother about her at all because it's like—)

Right?

(—he killed his heart.)

. . .

After the whole event of getting Hiyori's memory back (he hoped he would never suffer through that ever again), Yato never really explained to him why he had told him that Hiyori not remembering was fine.

Admittedly, he was curious and maybe slightly anxious of the answer he might receive. There had been something missing, something that didn't quite fit into the puzzle and it could be solved if Yato would just tell him—

But maybe he should leave it for now.

If he could prolong them laughing together again— them talking and joking again, them being happy again with no worries, doubts or fears hanging over their heads then maybe.

(Not maybe but should.)

And not as reluctant as he would have liked, he lets it go and joins in, feeling utter bliss and satisfaction (family, he thinks) in things coming back together once again— much like a fixed torn photograph with mended smiles and reconnection.

The subject, then, became untouched.

. . .

(He's too afraid of what will he will hear and he's selfish enough to leave it alone.)

. . .

—end—

. . .

a/n3: was anime-inspired not manga.