Yeah, yeah, I'm late, I know. I don't think people are still waiting for another chapter...

I've been dealing with serious issues recently, namely family problems and dark thoughts. No one should leave me alone in a room with a knife, ha ha XD I'm slowly getting better, but I promise I try to update as soon as I... can. Thanks for your comprehension :3

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(review to Aofery): You're too sweet... I love you, and thank you for worrying for me. I'm mostly okay, for now... And yes, I do have father issues too. Though it's nowhere as bad as Yato and Yukine, it's also one of the reasons this wasn't posted sooner. But I appreciate your enthusiasm, and I'm going to do my best for you!

Kurenai will hold on :)

He was all alone again, but then again, when hadn't he been?

The bitterness and frustration from before the misogi burned bright and strong in his chest, quick to dissipate that silly illusion of a family he had entertained all this time.

How foolish he had been, to place his unconditionnal trust in perfect strangers. How foolish he had been, to genuinely believe someone like him could be granted a place to belong, could be allowed to stay safe and happy. This kind of stupid, naive actions was usually Yato's...

His throat tightened, exactly like someone had strangled him. Yato.

His god's betrayal hurt more than any flesh wound he'd ever received from anyone. He would take the beatings and the punches and the insults a million times over acknowledging what was happening to him now was real. All his torments stemmed from a deep, ghastly incomprehension.

Yato was the same as him. Both of their fathers were traitors, beings that should never have been blessed with the gift of life for all the sins they had commited. After all, what was the point of bringing someone to this world, only to hurt them and torment them and bring them to the point they wished they never existed?

And with how much they had both messed with his head, manipulating him and pulling strings and lying until his brain had been reduced to mush, Yukine had come to this sad point. The point where he started doubting about everything and anything. Yato himself knew how much mind-games hurt, so why was he doing this? Why?

He laughed weakly, and a trickle of blood ran down his cracked lips.

He'd been acting so childishly, it had never been so painfully obvious before now. In what honour would the god spare him any pain when it was all Yukine had brought him? It's maybe because Yato knew exactly what it felt like that he had decided to make him go through the same thing. He'd finally decided to give him the punishment he should have received from the very beginning, from the very first sting.

He was a bad child, and it was why he'd been murdered in the first place. And bad children deserved to be all alone.

With his fragile mind finally finding something close to a balance for the first time in too long, he let out a small breath and curled up on himself tighter. Though he immediately cried out in pain as all his wounds flared at the same time. The open ones, the scarred ones, the infected ones. The pain was so much, he thought he would faint.

With how much blood he had lost and the tremendous quantities of pain that were inflicted on him daily, why could he still feel anything? It wasn't making any sense. Nothing was making sense right now.

If he could be granted a last wish - who on earth was he kidding, he knew it wouldn't happen, he didn't deserve this - then... Then he would go back in time to apologize to his god for these last hateful, untrue words. Though maybe he went too far with Yato...

He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of anything in the world anymore. Who was he; still worthy of being Yukine, Yato's one and only shinki? Or was he merely a disgraceful nora?

Even the simplest things were confusing him. He had seen too much these days, way too much, and he wasn't sure he knew what love really meant. If it meant his father's love, or Yato's... Or the director's, whispered in the crook of his ear at night. Was he even worthy of any of these loves?

And once again, his father's words rang in his mind. "If you were worthy of anything, then you wouldn't have been murdered. If your own father never loved you, then what makes you think this stranger does?"

"F-Finally found you," rasped a familiar, though strained voice. There was a sound of wet coughing that raked the god's throat, and Yukine was very, very tempted to turn around. The god sounded like he was truly in pain, like someone was choking him.

But then cold sweat slithered down his bare back, and his body went on full alert mode.

Maybe his father had sent Yato here, to punish him to have tried to escape once again. Someone had to come to get him? He'd been found? Gods, what would happen to him this time? "Yukine, c-calm down. You... f-freaking out is killing me. I'm not e-even joking."

Yato had come all the way for him? Did that mean that he had he been forgiven for what he had said? But why? He wasn't-

"You have n-nothing to... Y-Yukine, I'm sorry." The god used one of his blighted hands to smother his bloodied coughing. Curse these words that refused to pass his lips. It wasn't time to scream his pain or burst in tears; Yukine came first. Yukine always came first. "I'm the one who didn't protect you from all this. N-None of that should- agh- sh-should ever have happened to you. I'm not angry at you or anything, but- Please, come home."

Come... home? What home? He couldn't have one, because he was a vile and disgusting child, unable to defend himself or protect anyone from anything.

He let out a wail and gripped his hair with enough strength to rip it; his head was seriously starting to hurt.

Above the throbbing in his head, he faintly heard footsteps coming closer and closer from him. They were uneven and clumsy and heavy, terribly like his father's when he was drunk and searched his favourite victim in the house. But despite the similarity, he wasn't scared or anything; far from it. He couldn't explain it, but the sound had a soothing quality that made Yukine feel like there was nothing to fear anymore.

"I'm... sorry..." he wept, curling up on himself like a feeble animal. His head still hurt as much, and his unused voice was grating his swollen throat. He wondered what had happened, for his throat to feel so sore.

He never meant for these words to be out in the air like this, but they made him feel oddly... light. Words spilled out of his mouth before he even could think about them. "I'm sorry that- th-that I didn't tell you about my father before. I'm sorry that I lied to you and... I... I also..."

Yato dropped to his knees next to his kid, completely emptied of his breath. He had walked the metre that had been separating them, but he felt exhausted as if he had ran it. It had been a while since he'd last been blighted so much. It could be dangerous. "Yukine, it's okay now."

A few tears slipped free from his hazel eyes, dragging some of the blood and dirt on Yukine's face to the ground with them. His hands went to his eyes to dry these stupid crybaby tears, and he dipped his head in a nod of comprehension.

He opened his mouth to call his master's name - maybe saying it out loud would finally make him being saved happen for real - but when a hand was posed on his shoulder, only a terrified scream left his mouth.

Yato, apologies, safety, family... Everything was forgotten.

"Don't worry so much... I will take care of everything. You just be a good boy, and not disobey adults. I wouldn't want to punish you again... I love you, you know that? Very, very much."

Yato was almost sure he heard something shatter. "Don't touch me, you pervert!"

His shinki scrambled on panicked, swollen feet that soon sent him falling flat on his face on the ground. His arms immediately went to wrap around his stomach, and it wasn't soon before he threw up. Yato wasn't sure, but he thought he heard him choke something out. The same sentence, again and again, though it got weaker and weaker with time.

It wasn't Yato...

The person behind him wasn't Yato.

Of course it wasn't Yato, what had he expected? That his god, who he had plainly said he hated last time he saw him, would stick by him and search him wherever he was to be sure he was safe and protect him to the bitter end? How stupid he was. He was alone.

It wasn't his god next to that tree, it was that sorry excuse of a human being that he had seen too much for a lifetime. He should flee now, run fast and far, because otherwise it would be bad, to say the least, but he didn't even have the strength to stand up. All he could do was tremble and beg, hoping that what would definitely come to him wouldn't.

Pathetic.

Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.

But Yato wouldn't give up. He was nothing if not determined to save his kid. Nothing if not in a desperate need for this kid to be okay and happy like he deserved.

Physical contact seemed to be out of question, judging from his reaction from earlier - he didn't even want to think about what happened to him to make him react like that, it was just a touch - so he had only words to offer... He had to think about which ones would reach his hafuri.

Yato's lips parted, but anything he wanted to say was forgotten when his eyes rolled behind his head and his body dove to the ground. He managed to catch himself against the tree before he face-planted to the ground, cursing his trembling fingers and his stinging eyes.

All air had fled his lungs, and he was shaking like a leaf; he couldn't breathe, and even less talk.

"You only have each other, Yaboku. If you don't take care of each other, he will die."

Each time he saw his shinki, he was in a worse state than the time before. The transformation into an Ayakashi was happening, slowly but surely. He already had these terribly familiar wings, and these claws... And with everything he had said last time, it was obvious.

Yukine was falling apart, piece by piece, and he knew that it was his last chance. Next time he would see this child, if he didn't save him now, he would be dead. And this couldn't happen again.

"Yukine, listen to me... I haven't- I haven't been lying to you. Come home, please. We have to talk, and... and..."

He felt so weak, it took him a ridiculous moment to realize that his sweaty hand had slipped and that, losing his only crutch, he had fallen to the ground. He had neither felt the impact nor seen the ground was coming closer and closer. And just as the god thought he would pass out - finally, maybe something good would emerge from this day - a choked sob erupted from Yukine's throat, barely audible.

In echo of his shinki's sadness, or maybe his own, a lone tear rolled down his cheek.

That was it.

He spat the mouthful of blood that had been sitting in his mouth all this time, and once his lungs were clear, resumed his walk towards the boy. He kept his eyes on Yukine, focused, shutting down all senses other than sight. They were all contradicting his objective.

No, his knees couldn't buckle under his weight at each step. No, he wasn't feeling light-headed at all. No, his heart wasn't allowed to burst out of his ribcage. No, his blood couldn't be entirely coughed up. And neither did he feel like he was burning up yet freezing at the same time.

He had never seen his kid like that. He, who had always made fun of the god by proposing to explain to him the concept of changing clothes, was dirty. He could not see a part of his body that was not covered in dirt or blood of sweat. He looked like an... abandoned child, and Yato knew that it was how he felt inside.

Yukine was at hand's reach now, mumbling something that was said too quickly to be understood with wide wet eyes and his face pressed against the ground. Given how badly he'd reacted before, physical contact was still out of question.

He only had words to give. He prayed it would be enough... "Yukine, I'm here. You're safe with me, I promise you."

"No," sobbed the child. The sight of this moaning mess of a shinki became fuzzier and fuzzier... The god wasn't sure what he was hearing or seeing anymore. "Help me, Yato... I don't want him to hurt me... Yato, please... Yato..."

Yato wasn't with Yukine anymore when he woke up.

He didn't know if it was because of this fact, or because of the searing pain in his chest, or because of the crushing feeling of defeat and helplessness, but he was sobbing with full strength.

The room was dark, so hopefully, if someone entered, they wouldn't see his reddened nose and eyes, or the stain his tears had left on his pillow that were dampening his cheek. He sobbed, without any control on his tears or anything anymore.

He had failed again... He had failed his kid again.

Hiyori hadn't expected to find her god in such a state, upon opening the door. She couldn't really see him in the gloom, just the vague shape of his body, but the sound was more than enough. Just hearing her god cry like this made her want to cry too. "Yato..."

"He is dying," he sobbed, the words almost intelligible, drowned in all these tears. "Yukine's dying..."

"N-No... Not n-now. I'm really tired... P-Please, leave me alone... Please! Please, I-I'm begging you! Don't-"

"P-People are... They're all..."

"Someone- Anyone... Stop, stop, stop! Yato... Yato!"

It was useless; he only sobbed harder. He couldn't bring himself to say what he was seeing out loud. It wasn't things that were supposed to be happen to fourteen-years old kids, for Godness' sake. It wasn't something that ever had to happen to Yukine, and even less when his god was there to protect him.

It was all Yato's fault, as usual. How much could a single person mess things up like that?

"Yato," called hesitantly Bishamon. She'd come too? Odd. He found her voice oddly soft today, when he had heard it scream death threats and insults.

She padded next to the trembling god to place a gaunted hand on his shoulder. "Listen to me. We localized Yukine in Near Shore. He's not with his father right now, but he is alone. It's dangerous for him. We have to find him, and do a misogi."

Yukine was outside? Now? But it was pitch-black outside, and he wasn't feeling fear about that. The sliver of blue eyes disappeared under his heavy eyelids that were dropping second after second. Hiyori called his name, but it was the goddess' rough shake that narrowly managed to steal him from unconsciousness.

"Yato."

"You can't..." he croaked. A drop of sweat fell from his forehead to the dirty pillow, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Why was he feeling so hot all of a sudden? "B-Bishamon, it's not his fault I'm b-blighted. A m-misogi would kill him."

As if it was something she hadn't thought about. "But Yato, you're dying!" wept Hiyori. She knelt next to his god, hands fisted in her skirt. "You c-can't even move, and-"

"We'll make sure it's quick," cut Bishamon before the girl burst into sobs once again. They had a hard enough time making her stop last time. "I don't think he is going to oppose resistance if we ask him to say everything that happened, if it's for both of your sakes. I will keep guard with Kazuma and Daikoku, along with other shinki, so that his father doesn't interfere with the ceremony.

"Yato. It's grave, what happened. We have to take serious measures with his father. He's a special shinki, and could cause a lot more havoc than he already did if left alone. We have to make him pay for what he has done, and go see Amaterasu so that she does take care of him, since his god is dead."

"You should let us in more, Yato," mumbled Hiyori. "Bishamon-sama will take care of Yukine-kun's father. You didn't even tell us that you left to find Yukine-kun on your own."

"Let you... in..." he repeated numbly, his head clearing a little bit.

Oh yeah. He'd forgotten that. Other people did rely on other people rather than themselves all the time, wasn't that right? Bishamon slipped an arm around his waist and hoisted the god up, ignoring the blight that was spreading on her skin. Yato probably couldn't move on his own, and they really didn't have time.

Hiyori took his hand, too. He stared at her with these stupid red eyes of his. When she'd forget next, he hoped she would forget his tears too.

"Wait," he sniffled, breaking eye contact with her to wipe his eyes. "I-I need to take something before we go." Bishamon frowned at him, maybe wondering what could be more important than his shinki right now, but helped the god limp towards the object of his attention.

"It's..." breathed Hiyori. Bishamon's lips softly closed up, and she tightened her grip. Maybe it would work, yes. "Let's go."

"I will be the one to decide what do you cut," had said so confidently Yukine. "I won't let you kill people ever again!"

Did he really have to keep that promise? Because if it depended only on the god, it could very, very quickly be broken.

Yukine was there, walking all alone in the darkness, with at least ten Ayakashi behind him or on him. Others kept repeating him that he was in a terrible shape, or dying, for those who dramatized all this, but Yukine was far from faring better.

Some Ayakashi were merely lapping up the trail of blood he left behind him with slow licks, but others were actively producing more. Digging their fangs or claws or anything that could pierce holes in his skin, without Yukine reacting to any of that.

His posture was perfect as he walked, not a flicker of pain touching what they could see of his face. All of them being too stunned or aghast, they didn't react when Yukine passed right next to them. Kofuku snapped out of her shock to call his name, but it didn't reach the child.

Yato wanted to cry once again. He was sure that this kid had wings, last time he saw him.

Daikoku cursed and dashed towards him, Mayu hot on his heels, deciding to focus first on the Ayakashi that were destroying his body and tearing his skin. But they were firmly holding him, and holes were ripped, and Daikoku feared that they had been there for many days.

A thick wad of bloodied bills was handed to him.

Drops of blood fell from Yukine's arm to splatter on the floor. At first it was unsettling, but then it became downright frightening. There was just too much blood pouring out of his body; how was he still standing?

"He is hallucinating," breathed Hiyori, answering the silent question of who was he giving this to. He was covered in wounds, and it was obvious by the way he was walking more than one thing in his body was broken, though he was trying to hide it.

"You're here," snarled a deep voice, surprising all the deities gathered there. "Each time I leave you alone, something happens. How many bones do I have to break you to make you stop misbehave, huh? I told you not to talk with strangers!"

Yukine didn't bother trying to find words; he immediately burst in tears. The others were stunned to say the least. What kind of parent said that to their children?

Hiyori came to embrace whatever was left of the sobbing young boy, muffling his "I'm sorry" in her coat, and ready to physically shield him from this madman. Though she didn't think she would need to. It was obvious that if he took one more step towards Yukine, he would get killed on the spot.

Bishamon whipped Kazuha and Karuha up, and two gunshots later, the man was down with one hole in each of his knees. Yato blinked at her. "You're not coming any closer to him."

"Just try anything," threatened Daikoku. Though Yukine's father couldn't move now. Kazuma had slapped a restraint on him. "Now, Yato-chan! Now we have to do a misogi and it will be over for the both of you!"

Yato slipped out of Bishamon's hold and collapsed.

The misogi was a success, technically speaking. Success in the sense that the both of them had made through with their lives, and only that.

Yato had asked to be allowed one day with Yukine without anyone interrupting him. Day that he spent holding his kid tight, and letting the rest of his tears seep in his hair. He had enough of all this. Enough.

Now Yukine was huddled on his bed, hidden under the thin blanket he had pulled up. Yato leant forwards on his chair - Yukine had had a panic attack when he woke up with his god at his sides. "Yukine?" he called, thought he knew the boy wouldn't answer.

He let out a breath and continued in a low, soothing voice. "It's me; it's Yato. I wanted to tell you... Thank for having held on all this time. And giving me the opportunity to save you. And also to have told what happened to you during the misogi. You're very brave, and I'm proud of you."

He brought him closer, his voice trembling a little bit. "You had a lot happening to you these last two weeks, huh? Way too much. I just want you to say that... No one expects you back on your feet any time soon, you know.

"It's going to be hard, to heal from all this. I don't think that you will ever heal, actually. You won't be able to forget either, but... But I'm here for you. Forever. I'm here, and all I want is that you get better the soonest possible. There will be many times when you feel like you're not advancing, or that you won't ever be able to heal, and I will be here to encourage you and tell you how much progress you've made. We will get through this together."

Yukine was immobile, as usual. "You were scared, huh? Do you want me to take you in my arms? O-Or go get something?" The god didn't really wait, and ran his fingers in the familiar blonde hair of his kid. It smelt good, and definitely looked better clean. "Tell me if it's too much. It's not too much, is it? The contact, I mean. I'm not here to scare you."

He remembered all too clearly the words he had screamed when Yato had tried to pat his shoulder earlier. It was unequivocal.

"Yukine, I know you're awake. Talk to me, please. You can talk to me. It's okay, you know? To talk to others. No one should ever forbid you to talk..."

"Don't make that face. Apparently you're too stubborn to stop and just shut up and obey, so I had to do this. You think I wanted her to die? It's all because you're not obeying. Who do you think you are? You're my son. You obey me. Under my roof, I'm the one who decides. Now go bury her in the garden before she decays."

Nothing; not even a twitch of fingers. Yukine's chest went up and down, almost imperceptibly, and Yato knew that if he could have breathed more shallowly, he would have.

He dared to slip a hand under the blanket to intertwine his fingers with his shinki's. His hand felt... small. And oddly cold. "I'm with you. Like all messes, we're going to do this together. You're not ever going back there, and I'm never going to abandon you. I will keep you safe-"

Yukine's voice was defeated when it rang next. He'd reached his breaking point. "Release me, please."