Secret Santa for LeapYearKisses! (Noragami [M], Yato) COMPLETE]

December 25, 2015

A/N: Happy Holidays, LYK~! I’m so happy to be your Santa this year >w<. I decided to write you some Noragami and re-watched all of season one to get in the groove of things. I thought about checking out season two, but I realized it might be simpler to have this set in the space between them, haha. I did my best to capture the mood of the show and characters ^__^

This fic takes place post-season one, pre-season two, with some fluffy, cinnamon-roll-pure Yato/Hiyori when I could fit it in <3.

I tried to obey all of your rules and wishes for this gift, so if there is anything you dislike, please let me know and I would be happy to edit or make minor changes! I want to ensure I have given you what you wanted out of this fic for the holiday ;D I promise I will finish this, most definitely, but I wanted to post the first part at least by Christmas proper <3

TAGS FOR: Mess/spray, fever, M/F fluff, M sneezing, mild language/swearing

~ Day Off Denial ~

Every master has a unique bond, professional relationship, and set of expectations for his or her Regalia. For some, like Tenjin, they are pretty, serving bodies that come and go like the wind. For others, like Bishamonten, they are skilled and carefully selected operatives for an important cause. For a few, like Kofoku, they are treasured guardians and perhaps even more than that. For Yato…

“All right, fess up.” Yukine looms over his master, who is currently kicking back on the kid’s bed with his legs crossed at the knee, one foot bouncing in the air to a silent beat. He blinks up at his Regalia with a manga in one hand, the other tucked behind his head. Yukine narrows his eyes. “Say it.”

… For Yato, this Regalia is like his son, his little brother, and his nagging mother all in one package. Yukine is worth every blight, sting, and bruise, but some days he’s a hell of a handful when Yato doesn’t have the energy. And for the first time in quite a while, it’s one of those days.

“What are you, some kind of yakuza?” Yato asks, aware of how croaky his voice sounds. It’s annoying he can’t do much about it, but like hell he’s going to accept any of the tea Yukine’s been offering him (because it’s terrible). And no way are they telling Hiyori about this situation so she can make some (because it’s…just because). He swallows and hides the wince convincingly enough. He’s been mauled by a lion; he can handle a sore throat. Yato’s attention returns to his comic and he turns a page with his thumb. “I've got nothing to say.”

Yukine snatches the manga from him and holds it just out of reach. Yato doesn’t feel like getting up to chase him for it, so he merely laces his fingers behind his neck and closes his eyes to give off the impression he could care less. He feels his Regalia’s irritation simmering heavy in his own chest, and knows Yukine isn’t convinced.

“When are you gonna admit you’re too sick to work?” he mumbles, and Yato peeks open a blue eye to see the concern plain on the boy’s face before he frowns it away. “You’re not fooling anyone.”

Yato closes his eye again with a sigh. There are plenty of downsides to sharing body and mind with Regalia – he can name a dozen off the top of his head – but one of the worst is trying to keep secrets. At the very beginning of their partnership, Yukine was so consumed by his own troubles that he scarcely paid more than a sliver of attention to Yato’s side of their bond. Now that he’s a respectable Regalia, an exemplar no less (Yato’s only weapon and therefore only protection), Yukine takes Yato’s health entirely too seriously. He’s perceptive, powerfully so. And he has a glare sharper than his own blade.

“It’s a cold, Yukine, not blight,” Yato says to the ceiling. “It’ll pass.”

“Not if you don’t rest!” Yukine challenges. His amber eyes flash as he surges a step forward, now totally towering over his master. With a sigh, Yato turns his head to look out the window. It’s a brittle evening, dark early from the cold of winter. Not stormy, though. The skies are relatively clear.

Yato wrinkles his nose when he swipes his sleeve beneath it, aware that his nostrils are chaffing pink and that his Regalia is watching. Something nestled in his sinuses last night and will not leave, bringing with it an ever-present irritation that has mounted to a sneeze twice already. There would have been more, but Yato has this weird thing about sneezing in front of people; it’s the same thing as admitting to weakness – it’s one of the few things he gets shy about and will avoid if he can help it. His aversion to sneezing in public is tied with discussing his past and Hiyori’s soft, dry hands.

Aside from the problem with his nose, there is a fuzzy, almost painful pressure in his forehead that foreshadows a headache. His body is sluggish in a way it hasn’t been since his time spent shouldering Yukine’s tantrum-inflicted blight. He feels like he didn’t sleep at all last night, which isn’t a surprise, given it snowed and he was laying on the damp wood of an open-air shrine. Yet another reason why he needs his own shrine. One with a space heater.

All the evidence points in a vague direction Yato will neither investigate nor indulge in. He’s sick, that much is clear, but he’s not going to let that stop him. He didn’t stop working when he was severely injured and sick from blight, and he refuses to stop work now for something as lame as a cold. So he lays on the bed and sniffles, wondering if Yukine will go away if he pretends to sleep. He’s about two seconds into his attempt when his cell vibrates against his thigh. Yato bolts upright so quickly that he gives himself head-rush and Yukine almost falls over completely. He puts on his best customer voice and starts selling.

“Hello! Fast, affordable, and reliable, Delivery God Yato, at your service!”

He pointedly ignores Yukine as he listens to the voice on the other line that’s complaining about shoveling snow. Yato cannot blame her; he’s shoveled three driveways over the past week and it’s been a struggle to convince himself 5 yen was enough. Yukine had helped with one before he got too cold and Yato sent him home. Regalia, especially the young, could be sensitive to such things.

“Of course, I’ll be there momen – ” Yato pauses when Yukine latches onto his arm, nearly causing him to drop the phone. “…tarily.” He snaps it shut. “What, you want to come?”

“Like hell I do!” Yukine says, a little louder than Yato appreciates. Geez, his head is really starting to pound. Yato tries prying Yukine’s hand from his track suit. The young blonde clings tighter. “But you shouldn’t be going out either.”

They share an intense look, waiting for the other to crack. And of course at this moment, the relentless tickling in his sinuses chooses to flare. Turning quickly away from his ward and into a raised elbow, Yato has just enough time to wish he could stifle at such short notice.

“hh’kssch!” It does almost nothing for the itch, which pricks at his nose like a dull needle. With each stab, the need comes over him again. And again. “..hh’tssch!.. hih’tzssch!!”

It stops for a moment, though Yato can still feel the insistent poke of another lurking sneeze as he snuffles through his recovery. Very soon he will lose the ability to breathe through his nose, which will be a whole new level of why me?! But until then he will cling to what dignity he has left. Yukine has his arms crossed, completely unimpressed. Losing patience, Yato groans through a long sigh.

“Yukine, I’m not human.” He gestures limply to the window, his false cheer from the phone call gone. With no energy to neither smile nor frown, laugh nor yell, Yato explains all this with a hoarse and measured voice. “I never was human, I will never be human, and this cannot kill me. I’m shoveling snow, not going to war.”

Yukine softens, eyes drifting down and to the left as he considers this. The vulnerable expression on his young features gives Yato the stamina to smile. He swings his feet over the side of the bed and stands, carefully, since he’s a little woozy. Then he ruffles the boy’s hair. Yukine bats him away, but graciously drops the subject of Yato’s health in favor of being helpful instead.

“You want me to come with you?” He speaks like the words are sour and won’t quite meet Yato’s eyes. Aww~

“Nah,” Yato says with a stretch. “Tonight’s the night you watch a movie with Hiyori and her friends, right?”

Yukine’s head snaps up, eyes wide, as if he didn’t expect Yato to remember. Why would he forget? Sure, his head was achy with slowly accumulating gunk, but his brain still worked. Slotting his hand at the back of Yukine’s neck, he shrugs. “I can drop you at her place on my way, if ya want. Just gotta promise you won’t start stinging me w-…wih…”

Yato loses his words to hitching breaths. His eyes flutter, distorting Yukine’s image, as another sneeze crests. He fights it with all he has, prepared this time, pressing his lips together and clenching his jaw. That completely backfires. Not only does he sneeze anyway, but his stubbornly closed mouth causes the expulsion to exit through the only remaining channel: his nose.

“kggxtt!” The sound is strange to his own ears, and he feels the problem before anyone needs to tell him. Yato tents both hands over his nose and mouth for some modesty, but Yukine’s emphatic ugh! still has Yato’s ears and cheeks burning hot.

“You’re so gross,” he mutters, though there is none of the usual venom. Not that Yato is really listening. He’d never admit, even under threat of death, how mortifying this moment is for him but he would gladly spit-shine a thousand public toilets than spend another second under the withering stare of Yukine right now. “Yeah, there’s no way I’m letting you wield me until you’re better. So don’t even think about a phantom job.”

For all his complaining, Yukine still rummages through his jacket and comes up with a travel pack of tissues. Yato has no idea when or where he got those – just that he didn’t steal them – and he lets his Regalia fish a few out for him before wiping furiously at his nose. He doesn’t blow because there’s absolutely no way he’ll stoop to that low with Yukine in the room. Instead, he just sniffles and snorts and rubs until he’s cleaned himself up enough for company. His nose feels sore now though. Great.

Yato cannot bring himself to say thank you, the words sticking in his throat. He just takes the tissue pack from Yukine and stuffs it deep into a pocket. To break his own tension, Yato tries for a joke. “Hey, it’s better than my sweaty hands, right?”

“Not really, it’s all pretty disgusting,” Yukine gripes, burying his hands into his pockets and glaring at the wall. Yato knows this means he’s ready and agreeing to go, so he settles a hand on Yukine’s shoulder and wills himself to the street in front of Hiyori’s house. The trip really makes him dizzy, and he almost loses his footing when they land.

Yukine steadies him. “Are you sure you should be doing that? You’re looking pale.”

“It’s the moonlight,” Yato says for an excuse. Honestly he doesn’t know how he looks and doesn’t want to know. All he wants is to bolt before Hiyori comes out and sees him like this. It’s bad enough having his Regalia fretting over him. Having Hiyori do it would be…

Yukine’s hand slapped over his forehead. “Your face is turning red. I swear, if you’re getting a fever and still go out to shovel – ”

“There’s no fever!” Yato says, feeling uncharacteristically flustered. He waves Yukine off and shoos him toward the house. His nerves are telling him Hiyori will come bursting out of the door any minute. “Just go, and call me when you’re done. No staying the night.”

He trusts Yukine, but not that much. Picturing the kid sleeping with a bunch of young women in their nighties sets Yato’s blood on ice. He’d be stung into oblivion, no matter how well-intentioned his ward was. Yukine scoffs and turns toward the door, reaching up to knock just as the ever-present tingle wiggles a little too far down into Yato’s sinuses.

“hh’djshh!...uh!’hdzshh!..” He waits, hands hovering around his nose, waiting for his nostrils to stop twitching and cringing at the warm wetness coating his upper lip. Why is his nose running so badly when his sinuses are stuffing up?! “… ih-.. ih’DJZZsschh!!” It's the most disastrous sneeze yet, wet against his hands.

“Oh! Yato, bless you!”

Yato looks up so quickly he’s sure he cracks his neck, his fingers and palms hiding the messy aftermath of his sneezes as he locks eyes with none other than Hiyori. She’s standing on her front steps in blue pastel pajamas, her hair in braids, no doubt done by another of her friends already inside. And she looks so clean and nice that the last thing Yato wants her to see now is his post-sneeze evidence. So he teleports away before anyone else can say a word.

~TBC

Edited March 17, 2016 by BlackScatter
Changes to the title~

December 26, 2015

...I still feel awkward about commenting on other people's ss gifts before them so I apologise for that ok (I tried to wait but it's been over 12 hours now and no one has commented so sgrfjdhghJ)

Aww this is great ouo

Sore throats and mess are just :heart:

He's so... defensive about it? Idk what the right word would be but it's really nice and fitting : D

And he almost gets caught by Hiyori : D

He waits, hands hovering around his nose, waiting for his nostrils to stop twitching and cringing at the warm wetness coating his upper lip. Why is his nose running so badly when his sinuses are stuffing up?!

...yes pls

Nom

Definitely looking forward to more ouo

Sorry (again) for stealing the first comment

December 28, 2015

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA Thank you so much, BlackScatter! This is amazing! This is everything I was looking for! Sitruuna, don't worry about commenting first; I was busy with holiday stuff and didn't get on here. But now I am here! And I am so happy!

I had written a really long comment with quotes and everything, but then the internet ate it. So I'm going to try and condense everything I said there. This should be more eloquent, too, since there was a lot of keyboardsmashing in the first one.

First of all, I absolute adore how you characterized Yato and Yukine! You've got down dumb Yato who doesn't take himself into consideration like he should, fighting with Yukine as usual, but then you've got serious Yato as well. I adored the part where he tells Yukine he wasn't ever human. That sounded so much like something he would say, and it really touched me. And Yukine, who's just as hyped up as usual, all angry and pointy.... you've also gotten through to his kid side. When he softens to Yato it's so cute! And of course when he calls Yato gross, haha. So on point!

Annnnnd Yato being gross.... I'm way too embarrassed to describe the parts where he sneezes, but they were amazing. Everything I'd hoped for and more. I'm so happy you made him self-conscious about it. I think it fits well with his character; even though he's kind of a loon most of the time, and sweaty, and an idiot, I really enjoy that little touch of vulnerability. I definitely think it works with his grand ideas of being a god people look up to, and wanting to be a model of sorts for Yukine. And of course not wanting to be gross in front of Hiyori. (And now I have all these ideas of what it must have been like if he was sick around Nora back in the day, and what she might have said to him to make his embarrassment worse and aaaaa).

You've pushed all my buttons. No need to change a thing! Your writing is so nice and descriptive and funny and this feels so much like it could happen in the show. I'll be feverishly rereading this part until the next one comes out! Thank you!!!

And, if anyone else was waiting to comment - you don't have to wait for me on other parts or anything. Please shower BlackScatter with your love!

December 29, 2015

I REALLY need to go back and rewatch this, not to mention catch up on season two. Gosh you wrote this soooo well the characters are so on point. I love reading Noragami fictions, and this one was definitely one of the best I've seen so far. I'll be looking forward to the rest of it !!

December 30, 2015

this is really amazing, anything you right is amazing thou! I really love how you made Yato its just too perfect! cant wait for future updates

January 4, 2016

Aww this is great ouo
. . .
Definitely looking forward to more ouo

Ahhh~! Thank you so much! I'm so glad you enjoyed it, Sitruuna >w<! I hope you enjoy the rest as it comes haha~

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA Thank you so much, BlackScatter! This is amazing! This is everything I was looking for!

AHHHHH~! LYK, YOU ARE SO WELCOME! It's my complete pleasure to give this to you >w<. Your joy is my joy! I am so, so, so happy you like it QwQ! Thank you so much for your wonderful comments and compliments. I loved reading them, and it was good to know I'm getting your interests right xDD. I worked to make sure it was something you would like, so knowing you are enjoying it really encourages me, haha! I'm having a lot of fun writing this, and hope these next parts are even better than the first ;D

Gosh you wrote this soooo well the characters are so on point. I love reading Noragami fictions, and this one was definitely one of the best I've seen so far.

That's such high praise! Thank you Yast! Hopefully this next part doesn't disappoint

this is really amazing, anything you right is amazing thou!

Bazzpop00, you are so sweet! Thank you x33

A/N: I'm sorry this took a while, but here is part two~! Not going to lie, LYK, I sort of jacked your speculative thoughts about Nora in the post above and applied them to a tiny part of the fic >w>''.. I'm shameless LOL. I hope you enjoy, my dear!

~ Day Off Denial, Part 2 ~

All Yato wanted was an easy night. He didn’t ask for much. (Except for massive riches, adoration of thousands, a giant expensive shrine, a fleet of maidens to wait on him hand and foot… but aside from that, he was pretty humble, okay?) Of course like everything else in his life, it had to be stupidly complicated.

He’d dropped Yukine off at Hiyori’s, calmly and very suavely teleported to the house of his client and he definitely did not end up head-first in the snowbank while doing so. He spent several hours shoveling her three lawns (because she failed to mention she lived in a property out in the rural district, which was just lovely). Yato still had no idea how she’d managed to get his number all the way out there. And so when that was finally over and he was paid his 5 yen, which he was not bitter about at all, he checked his phone for the time: 9:43PM. He teleported himself back to the city; he didn’t even care about where he landed at that point.

But he should have.

Now it’s around 10:28PM, and Yato is belly to the asphalt beneath a leaf-green Toyota Prius on some street north of the city square. Through the space between the car and the ground not facing the curb, he can see Bishamonten’s boots. The heels look sharper than usual, the tension in her ankles and calves projecting a clear message: she is on the hunt and out for blood.

On any other night, there was no way this would have happened. Autopilot Teleporting while exhausted had its downsides, and one of them was winding up in unsavory places. As it happened, when Yato left his client’s house without an intended destination, he wound up in a random one. His luck tonight was terrible, so of course that meant he appeared in mid-air right over Bishamonten’s strategy table. The resulting crash sent one of Bishamonten’s many Regalia running, catching sight of Yato just as he disappeared through another door.

They spent some time playing hide-and-seek in Bishamonten’s house as Yato looked for the exit, pinching his nose shut to keep it under control. He’d run out of tissues halfway through shoveling snow, and had no means of defense against snot or slow-dawning sneezes. He’d mostly ignored his body’s needs until he was out of the house and on the street, tearing ass to put miles between him and the angry blond demon who was no doubt saddling her lion to come galloping after him. And she had.

But now that he is very still against the cold hard ground, hands on top of his head and cheek to the pavement, Yato can feel the strain he’s put on himself. His throat is absolutely searing, burned raw by the panting breaths he’s had to take while running for his life. That headache from before sneaked up on him and now it’s banging with the beat of his heart against the sides of his skull.

Worst of all, his nose is completely unruly. He’d pulled his scarf over his nose and mouth while sprinting through the streets as an impromptu tissue, and he can feel the cooling, soaked mess of it against his face. Even after all this, his nose is still runny! Still producing him more misery! Like all the pressure in his head was filtering drop by drop through a small drain into his sinuses. If he wasn’t so damn tired he would have done something spiteful… blown his nose until he got lightheaded or snorted it all back and swallowed.

But he can’t do any of that unless he wants to die. Which he doesn’t. How will he enjoy his fabulous riches if he’s dead?

“Veena,” Kazuma is saying. Yato can hear him clearly even over the thudding of his head. If ‘Veena’ wasn’t such a vicious bitch, Yato could have summoned more appreciation for such a dainty pet-name.

“You saw what state he’s in,” he says. Yato imagines he’s pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “He’s in no condition to fight.”

“Exactly!” says the old harpy. Yato squints at the sound of her voice grating his ears. It hurts just to listen to her talk. “More the reason to pursue. He’ll be dust under my boot at this rate.”

“And you really believe that is a chivalrous and fair way to fight a worthy adversary?”

“He’s not worthy of blood underneath my fingernails.” Yato jumps when Bishamonten’s feet move, loud against the pavement by his head. He could snatch her ankle, if he wanted to. “I fail to see how he of all gods deserves my mercy.”

Kazuma sighs, and Yato mentally cheers him on. Come on, you lousy bastard, he thinks, willing all his remaining mental energy toward Kazuma. Don’t let that demoness get her claws on me!

“It’s not about mercy, Veena, it’s about honor,” he says, appealing to the warrior in them all. “Would you prefer to exact your revenge while he would fall to anyone’s blade, or to strike the great Yatogami down when he is at his full strength?”

They’re both sort of assholes, aren’t they? Kazuma much less than Bitchamonten, but Yato actively avoids them no matter which he sees first. Ever since that deal with Kazuma, they hadn’t really spoke. Sometimes Yato does wonder how he’s doing, if he and his mistress are officially a thing or…

Ugh, why am I gettin’ all nostalgic? Yato chides himself. Maybe I really am getting a fever.

He’s caught between wanting to shimmy out from under the car and run for it, but also knowing he shouldn’t. There’d be a better chance for his escape if he waited for Kazuma to lure Veena away. Closing his eyes, Yato tries to relax. Hell, maybe he can even get some sleep in the meantime. The concrete wasn’t that much worse than the wooden floor of Tenjin’s shrine. Though just as he feels himself begin to nod off, the heated debate nearby almost a lullaby, something deep in his nose twinges.

It’s been leaking steadily this entire time, warm moisture trickling out of his nostrils – (mostly his right one, because even his colds have to be annoying and fickle) – and onto his scarf. The fabric is soft, much better than the dry, chalky texture of tissues or the rough rubs of his tracksuit cuffs. It’s gross, sure, and makes him feel like a disgusting bachelor with no taste –

What shrine maiden would ever dote on a revolting person like you, Yato? Nora asked him once, in that sweet little voice.

– but there’s not much he can do right now. It’s better than letting the crap dry on his lips and chin, so everyone who has a problem with it can wipe his nose for him if they want to complain. Or give him some coins so he doesn’t have to take jobs while he’s sick.

The tickle in his nose lurches again, insistent. Thinking about his runny nose is probably just encouraging it. The swollen state of his nasal membranes, inflamed and easily irritated, are not happy with the steady, teasing sinus drip Yato’s suffering from. Like he’s said, the mucus production isn’t stopping and with every passing second, it’s aggravating the sensitive lining of his nose.

To be blunt, if he doesn’t blow his nose (which he can’t do right now) or sniffle enough to ward back the tide (which he also can’t do right now), then he’s going to sneeze (which he also can’t do right now!). It is, as usual, just his luck.

For a moment Yato think he’s got a handle on it. He bites his lip, narrows his eyes, and holds his breath. It’s no use, though. The tickle keeps growing, causing him to blink slowly, drunk on it. The only benefit is with such a slow-growing sneeze, he has time to prepare for it… however he’s going to do that, with no way to move and no means to stop it.

Great.

“Did you hear that?” Bishamonten says suddenly, shifting silently on her feet.

“Hear what?” Kazuma asks.

“It sounded like.. hm…”

In the tense silence, Yato does his damnedest to keep from moving, from breathing, from anything. But he can feel that sneeze deep in his nose, climbing its way to the surface. It itches as it comes, making his nose twitch. Involuntarily, he sniffles.

“There, that noise!” Bishamonten paces up and down the length of the car, probably nose to the wind as she looks. Yato watches through watery eyes as Kazuma takes a step closer to his position, blocking Yato’s view of the roadside.

“I did not hear a thing,” he says, gentle but absolute.

“You’re not listening hard enough.”

Oh, seriously? Yato mentally moans, feeling the sneeze dragging his nose up into wrinkles, his eyes down into tightly creased half-moons. His lips part against his will. It tickles so much, a needlepoint of sensation that ignites an impulse he cannot fight. Is this how I’m gonna die?

It swells…and swells. Yato snatches a long, silent breath for all it’s worth, tonguing his lips and pressing them shut afterward to try in vein to stop it. Just as his entire body tenses, wiry with need, Kazuma lifts his left leg and slams it hard into the side of the car.

The car alarm erupts into sound, shrill. Yato throws his head down with so much force, he hits his head against the pavement.

“GXXNTT’uhh!”

There is absolutely no relief, his head pounds from all sides, and he know his scarf is totally soiled. Shit’s sake, he’s got to stop sneezing through his nose! It’s not any quieter, and just makes a bigger mess than any other method would. The next thing he knows, Bishamonten is shouting.

“What is that!? What happened?”

“I believe I accidentally tripped the car alarm,” Kazuma says, staggering away from the car as if it burned him. “My apologies, I-.. perhaps we should..?”

Bishamonten growls, but Yato knows it’s probably not aimed at her beloved Regalia. Whaddya know, the guy saved Yato’s ass. Again. Soon after, their footsteps begin to recede. He flexes his nose beneath his scarf, shuddering a little at the sticky feeling against his nostrils. Maybe if he cleansed himself at a purification fountain, maybe just maybe it would clear up his cold. Does it work like that for gods? Hell if he knew. He can’t even remember the last time he was sick.

Once he’s sure they're gone, Yato elbow-crawls out from under the Prius. As tempting as it is to stay under there all night, he doesn’t want to risk marooning Yukine on Fantasty Island for too long and get stung for it. He has not heard from the kid all night – neither by cell-phone nor by a prickling neck. Yato hopes that’s not a bad sign.

Now standing again, he yanks the scarf off his neck with a firm tug and quickly glances around to ensure no one’s around. He’s alone on the street, or at least alone as it counts; the few lingering humans swaying through the streets at this hour aren’t paying attention, as usual. Yato sniffles repeatedly as he folds over the scarf, fanning up that tiny flame of a tickle plaguing the bridge of his nose. It’s still fluttering around, stunted from that first awkward sneeze, and it doesn’t take much to coax it out again. Yato blinks, electric blue eyes getting teary from the strong itch. His mouth yawns open, and this time, he lets it.

Better to sneeze the tickle to extinction out here than at Hiyori’s place.

“HH’DDJISSCHH!!” The first one is strong enough to bend him double, a warm mass of congestion venting out with it. How Yato manages to violently yield so much snot in one sneeze, he’ll never know. It’s a question for a wiser god, perhaps. Taking advantage of the brief opening of his swollen sinuses, Yato blows into his scarf. The sound is vile, but the results are heavenly. It immediately relieves some of the toxic pressure in his head.

When his nose twitches again, fitful against his kneading fingers through the fabric, Yato doesn’t even mind. “hh’tzsschh!..ih’DZSCH!..” He gasps, a high whistling noise in the back of his throat. “hhh-!..gizsschh!.. ohhh, shid..” Yato sways in place, stars spangling at the corners of his vision.

He freezes when someone grabs and braces his shoulder.

Less than a second of hang-time, and Yato jerks away so he can spin around, reaching automatically for Yukine. “Sekk-..!” He stops himself, remembering that Yukine is with Hiyori miles across town. He balls his hand up into a fist, a little embarrassed, and he really doesn’t need Yukine right now anyway.

It’s just Kazuma. They stare at one another long enough for Yato to get hot under his collar, despite the cold night. He flinches a hand to his nose (the one not clenching his dirty scarf) and checks that it’s clean. Just as he is self-conscious about blight, Yato is also self-conscious about boogers. Especially around people he has a degree of respect for.

“Good evening,” Kazuma says, polite as usual. As if he isn’t speaking to his lady’s most hated enemy, the one she despised above all others.

Yato sniffles, trying to be discreet while also fighting against his rapidly closing sinuses. Even after that lengthy nose-blow, they’re swelling shut again. The thought makes him tired. “Yeah, hey.”

They stare again. Yato really doesn’t have time for this, even though technically he doesn’t have much else to do besides wait for Yukine to call. Moving his hand from his nose to his eye, he digs at it with a fist.

“You wantd a thangk you or sombethin?”

Kazuma narrows his eyes. “I would go home, wherever that is for you,” he advises, straightening the lapels of his jacket. “She wants to skin you alive, no matter what state of health you are in.”

“Rightd,” Yato huffs. He feels a ghost of a smile pass over his lips. “Wouldn’d expect ady differend.” Here he pauses, stricken with a ferocious need to sneeze. It came out of nowhere, swamped him unexpectedly, and he fumbles to find a clean spot on his spent scarf/handkerchief. There is none.

Kazuma wordlessly extends an embroidered, white cloth of his own and Yato greedily snatches it. The tickle burns insistently, and he cannot bring himself to try stifling. Even in front of Kazuma. Everything is just too sore, and the itch developed too fast to even try.

“hh’kkzsssh!..” And it can never be just once, can it? “.. mmbph’shh!..hih’dzssch!” Waiting to be sure he’s finished, Yato blows through and empties a thick clog into the cloth. His head feels only a tiny bit better, and he can’t quite bring himself to meet Kazuma’s eyes. He cleans himself up, clears his sore throat, and then rubs the back of his neck. It’s easy to remember the last occasion they had seen one another.

After a while, Kazuma says, “Please take care of yourself.” And when Yato neglects to respond, he walks away. It’s only after the sound of his footsteps have gone that Yato realizes he never gave back the handkerchief. That nestles a heavy, uncomfortable feeling in his chest as he looks down at it, blinking. The ring of his cell into the near silence makes him jump.

He snaps it open without looking at the caller ID. “Hello?”

“Come get me already! They’re being all weird and giggly,” Yukine grumps through the receiver. Yato feels exhausted just listening to him.

“Yeah, okay.”

“.. What’s wrong?”

“Huh?” Yato’s already walking down the road, hunched against the chill of the air. A little pink phantom roughly the shape of a mouse tumbles out onto the sidewalk and Yato kicks it away. It sails off into a bush with a squeak. It feels like it might snow tomorrow.

“You sound.. are you hurt? Did something happen?” Yukine’s started mothering him only seconds into the phone-call. Yato almost snaps and tells him to stay at Hiyori’s until he’s over this damn cold, so at least he won’t have to hear the kid’s nagging while he deals with achy muscles and sinus headaches. But he catches himself, and shakes his head instead.

“Dothing’s wrong, dothi’g happbend.”

“Have you heard of a tissue, jeez,” Yukine scoffs. “I gave you that whole pack of them!”

“And I used themb all up, dumbass!” Yato croaks. His voice is an octave deeper than usual, rough in his throat, sonorous in a way that it’s not supposed to be. All the consonants are blunted. When silence meets him on the other end, he grits his teeth and immediately hates himself. He’d made a promise to himself the night he found Yukine that he wouldn’t do certain things. That was one of them.

“I’b sorry,” he says, willing his words to be as sincere as he feels them. “I didn’d… Thad wasn’d whad I mbeant to say.”

Yukine still doesn’t speak, and Yato begins worrying he’s hung up. “Yukinde? Hello?”

“You’re a real asshole,” Yukine growls, but he’s still on the phone, so that’s a good sign. “I gave you those stupid things to be-… like, nice, and then you go and.. and you-.. you-!..” He’s tripping over himself, flustered and upset, so Yato does his best to help.

“I dnow, I dnow, I’b a real piece of work,” he says. His brain’s not firing on all cylinders right now, probably hindered from all the snot in his head. “I said I’b sorry, I’b just cranky.”

“… you weren’t like this at all back then, even toward the end…” Yukine sounds small, even a little afraid, and Yato knows what he’s talking about: when Yato had the blight. He snorts despite himself, shoving both his scarf and Kazuma’s handkerchief into his pockets so he can yank his handy-dandy yen bottle out of his jacket.

“Yeah, well,” Yato says as he shrugs, even though no one can see him. “Catching colds puts be ind a bad mbood.” He has no real evidence for this because he can’t really remember other colds beyond this one. But he’s sure he was just as much of a dick for those as well.

Yato summons up his best Lemme make you a deal! voice and waits for Yukine to bite. “Tell ya whad. How aboud I ged you that skateboard you’ve beend wanting?”

There’s silence, this time the stunned kind. Yato smirks to himself, tossing his bottle up and catching it, listening to the coins rattle. Soon it will be near empty again, poured out onto the counter of a department store for a piece of wood on wheels. Worth it, though. Wouldn’t be the first time he had to start over.

It’s taking him this long to get a shrine for a reason.

“Really?” Yukine asks, skeptical.

“Yep, just text be the mbodel, and – ”

“Wait, wait, what about the money?”

“Whad aboud it?”

Yukine thinks about that for a second, and Yato’s patient. He knows his Regalia, knows him well, so it’s only a matter of time before he says –

“Fine. Just don’t leave me here too long.” All the joy and lightness is back in his voice, which loosens the ropes around Yato’s gut. He can breathe again. Or as well as someone with a stuffy nose can breathe. “I think they’re going to try putting make-up on me.”

“Good luck,” Yato says, and hangs up with a smile. It pulls at the cracked skin around his nose, which stings, but he can’t stop his lips from turning up. Despite himself and all the general shitty-ness of the night, Yato feels just a little bit better.

TBC~

Edited January 4, 2016 by BlackScatter

January 4, 2016

AAAAAAAAAA I'm really tired, but so SO excited! I'm going to edit this comment with a real reaction tomorrow, once I can put words together.

EDIT: Okay, back! I love it! You've got Yato sneezing while hiding!! <3 From Bisha! Kazuma is perfect in this fic. I love how he interacts with Bishamon, trying to appeal to her sense of honor as a warrior. Which she still refuses. Really struck me, and I had to remind myself that this was after season one, before the redemption arc. But it was just lovely how Kazuma "accidentally" set off the car alarm. Sure you did, baby. Sure.

Yato is such a stubborn ass and it makes me so happy! At the end, when he decides to buy Yukine the skateboard... awww. The allusion to Yukine's original life and its horrific implications made me gasp and I feel so bad. Their relationship is so cute, how Yato is trying to be a good brother/dad/god to him.

And yay! You put in Nora! It fit in so well, how you did it.

Edited January 5, 2016 by LeapYearKisses

January 4, 2016

...I was at work when I saw you had posted the second part and waiting until I got home was the hardest thing I've done in a while xD

But damn

Nom

That "his voice was an octave lower" comment shrsgfjfv :heart:

Yes pls

Edited January 4, 2016 by Sitruuna

January 5, 2016

oh my god.... this was great!!! XD 'Bitchamon' now THAT was brilliant, I think I laughed way to hard at that. This truly made my day lol

January 5, 2016

I have been wanting to comment on this for SO LONG but I was out of town and never got a chance and NOW THERE'S A PART 2! :stun:

First of all, your writing is glorious. I've read through these multiple times now and so many parts make me laugh. The tone of the narration is absolutely perfect for sick Yato, and you embody his character brilliantly. You have a way of crafting sentences that can exude both humor and seriousness, and it works so well for someone like Yato. I really feel like I'm inside his head. His poor, sick, miserable head.

And then on top of the top-notch writing, you portray Yato and Yukine beautifully. Yato's fatigue is SO evident, and yet he is so self-conscious about it that he tries to power through anyway. I love how you have him both grumpy and embarrassed, and then you have Yukine over-bearing and concerned. It's really perfect for the time frame this story takes place, soon enough after the whole blight incident, and you convey the sensitiveness of how that still weighs on both of them very well. I also love how you highlight the sort of father-son relationship of the two. The part where Yato drops Yukine off but doesn't leave until someone answers the door is so sweet. And now with the addition of this second part, there is a really nice arc with their relationship happening, and you handle it with all the grace of the actual show.

On to my favorite parts. Or rather, a selection of my favorite parts, because there were too many to quote.

"It’s annoying he can’t do much about it, but like hell he’s going to accept any of the tea Yukine’s been offering him (because it’s terrible). And no way are they telling Hiyori about this situation so she can make some (because it’s…just because)."
^^SO MUCH YES. I love how he gets all awkward just in his own train of thought when it comes to Hiyori.

"Something nestled in his sinuses last night and will not leave, bringing with it an ever-present irritation that has mounted to a sneeze twice already."
^^I don't know what it is about this sentence, but it gives me butterflies and I reread it multiple times before moving on. I love picturing Yato fighting the urge to sneeze all day, until it finally amounts to one.

"Yukine had helped with one before he got too cold and Yato sent him home. Regalia, especially the young, could be sensitive to such things."
^^D'awwwww cold Yukine is so cute, and Yato looking out for him gives me the warm and fuzzies.

"Very soon he will lose the ability to breathe through his nose, which will be a whole new level of why me?! But until then he will cling to what dignity he has left."
^^Hahaha I love this sentence. Poor Yato.

" “kggxtt!” The sound is strange to his own ears, and he feels the problem before anyone needs to tell him. Yato tents both hands over his nose and mouth for some modesty, but Yukine’s emphatic ugh! still has Yato’s ears and cheeks burning hot."
^^Okay, real talk here... I don't like mess. I've spent a good effort to avoid it on the forum, and usually when there is any hint of it, I turn and run the other way. BUUUUUUUT when it comes to Yato, I can't really see it NOT happening. I mean, come on. It's Yato. I don't think I could dismiss the headcanon that he's disgusting when he's sick even if I tried. And the way you have written it here is great. It's so fitting, and despite my normal aversion to such things, I definitely wouldn't change it. So basically what I'm trying to say is that your writing is so good and in-character that you've made me enjoy something I have previously been squicked out about.

"He trusts Yukine, but not that much. Picturing the kid sleeping with a bunch of young women in their nighties sets Yato’s blood on ice. He’d be stung into oblivion, no matter how well-intentioned his ward was. "
^^I love this little moment. It reminds us that Yukine is still both human and a kid, and it also makes me giggle.

"All Yato wanted was an easy night. He didn’t ask for much. (Except for massive riches, adoration of thousands, a giant expensive shrine, a fleet of maidens to wait on him hand and foot… but aside from that, he was pretty humble, okay?)"
^^This cracks me up. Actually, those first few paragraph of part two crack me up. I love the sarcasm, and Yato's growing crankiness and weariness. Again, the narration is perfect for him.

"Ever since that deal with Kazuma, they hadn’t really spoke. Sometimes Yato does wonder how he’s doing, if he and his mistress are officially a thing or…"
^^Don't we all. #Kazuma/Bishamon

"To be blunt, if he doesn’t blow his nose (which he can’t do right now) or sniffle enough to ward back the tide (which he also can’t do right now), then he’s going to sneeze (which he also can’t do right now!)."
^^I love how much you are torturing him. I want to pity him... but I also want to giggle with glee. :evilsmiley03:

"Just as his entire body tenses, wiry with need, Kazuma lifts his left leg and slams it hard into the side of the car."
^^KAZUMA I LOVE YOU. That is EXACTLY what Kazuma would do. :heart:

"Maybe if he cleansed himself at a purification fountain, maybe just maybe it would clear up his cold. Does it work like that for gods? Hell if he knew. "
^^This whole thought process is so YATO. :rollslow:

"Just as he is self-conscious about blight, Yato is also self-conscious about boogers."
^^PAHAHAHA :laughbounce:

So yes, I thoroughly enjoyed this and I apologize to anyone who saw my foot-long reply and thought it was an update. Thank you for this awesomeness, BlackScatter! Can't wait for the next part.

February 6, 2016

@ LYK: AHHHHH I AM SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT! I'm trying to put in all of your likes, so hopefully you keep enjoying the rest of the fic the same way <3. Thank you so much for your sweet comments x333. It makes me so happy to know I'm doing a good job~

@ Sitruuna: Hahaha! Having to wait is always tough for me too, but thank you so much for reading and for your nice comment! >w<

@ bazzpop00: Thank you!! I'm so glad it made you laugh~ I chuckled while writing it XDD

@ alias: WAAAAAAA, thank you thank you thank you for such a lengthy comment!! I love it when people quote my stuff and show me their favorite parts, so it made me so happy to read all the things you liked about it. I'm also glad the mess isn't putting you off too much! I'm trying to toe the line between modest and immodest so hopefully it's pleasing to those who like it and tolerable to those who don't xDD. Thanks again for reading!

ANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNND HERE WE GO

A/N: OH WOW, IT’S BEEN A WHILE. I’m so sorry, LYK. I’m back in school and life has gotten busier than it’s ever been for me. I’m going to try to finish this in just one more part after this one! I hope it’s not too rusty and you enjoy it even though it took for freakin’ ever for me to post x’D.

~ Day Off Denial, Part 3 ~

Feeling better is short lived. It lasts the walk from the street to the 24-hour deluxe sports recreation shop that Yukine likes to browse, and then all the way to Hiyori’s house. It takes Yato a little while as he mostly walks, only teleporting in spurts because he doesn’t exactly trust himself. Luckily, because he’s mostly invisible, he manages a few less-than-legal short-cuts across construction zones and through alleyways.

Despite the fatigue, the packed weight of his sinuses, and the knowledge that Yukine is going to passively-and-actively bitch at him for who knows how long about his health, Yato still feels alive enough as he lets himself into Hiyori’s house. Her friends probably won’t notice him, Yukine can slip away, and he’ll work it out so he only has time for a brief wave before he tactically retreats. Er… leaves.

It’s not like avoiding Hiyori means he’s running from her. Of course not. He just doesn’t want to worry her unnecessarily. After that blight scare a while ago, everyone gets really bent out of shape over tiny things – like bruises from a phantom fight, or colds from a…wherever gods’ colds come from.

Yato strolls into the front hall and props the skateboard by the door for safe-keeping, peeking into the kitchen to find a few near-empty pizza boxes, as well as some chips and dip. Normally he’d be raiding Hiyori’s fridge but tonight his appetite just isn’t the same. Sniffling, Yato groans softly at the insurmountable brick-wall that is his sinuses. No air coming in, but also, the steady stream of mess had stopped for now. That has to be a good sign.

A convenient one, at the least.

When he finds nothing but tossed blankets in the fancy, modern sitting room, he decides they must all be upstairs. Once he starts to ascend, he hears the tell-tale giggling of high-school girls and pauses. Maybe… maybe he’ll just text Yukine from downstairs and wait. Yeah. That’s a better idea. Crashing whatever party they’re throwing up there could really embarrass Yukine and startle Hiyori.

Yato back-peddles back into the kitchen, feeling it is the most neutral, welcoming space, and yanks his phone from his pocket. As he does this, a few dirty tissues and his soiled scarf fall out and pepper the tile floor. Swearing under his breath, Yato squats down to collect them as he tries to text with one hand.

..D…o…w…n..s..t….a…i....r..s.. SEND.

Not a nanosecond after he presses the enter button, he hears a voice that sets his heart pounding.

“Yato!”

He doesn’t have turn around to know its Hiyori. His blood gets icy, and he feels himself break out into a cold sweat. Which is pretty damn stupid because he only does this when he’s gearing up for a fight. All his Regalia always complain about his sweaty hands while he battles, and he won’t bother denying it. It’s true. He sweats when he feels threatened, nervous, or like he’s monumentally fucked something up.

Right now he’s feeling varying degrees of all three.

“Yato?”

She sounds unsure now, a little cautious, so Yato swivels around to look at her. His boot squeaks on the floor while he stuffs the tissues and scarf back into his pocket. He crams his phone into the other. His voice is going to come out congested and deep no matter what he does, and she’s going to hear it. He tries to pick words without consonants.

“Hey,” he says. Good start. “Just.. here for the kid.” He ignore the impulse to high-five himself for avoiding any obvious stuffy sounds. Though the congestion is still there, dulling and darkening his voice.

Hiyori’s expression is worried as she studies him. Yato notes that she’s in lovely silk pajamas, the color of clear skies with swirly, royal-purple embroidery. They’re pretty, like her. Her hair is long, a little wild, trussed over her shoulders in a crown of curls. Someone has done her hair, and yes, now that he looks close, Yato sees her lips are glossed with a pink glaze. Eyelashes thicker and darker. Rose hue on her cheeks.

Yato feels his eyebrows slowly raise, his gaze begin to wander, and has no control over any of it. He’s only caught her like this a handful of times, fresh and soft before bed. It reminds him of the hospital room, when they properly met for the first time. Tonight, the natural-style make-up only accentuates everything about her that is already perfect, and shit, her hair… He’s never wanted to run his fingers through anything so badly in his life.

Only when Hiyori catches his fingers in one delicate, lily-pale hand does Yato realize he’d almost done just that. They are much closer together now, and her face fills every inch of his view. He cannot look past her if he tried, doesn’t want to. His fingers are careful, achingly slow as they fold around her hand. The way her cheeks darken captivates him. Yato sways forward just ever so slightly and Hiyori stops his approach with a hand to his forehead. It seals there and Yato cannot keep himself from sagging against the cool relief.

“You have a fever…?”

Her voice is so sweet, almost painfully so. When would someone like him deserve someone as tender as she? If only she knew even a fraction of what he’d done before this life, this new chapter he’d written for himself when the blood and the gore grew too red for him to stand seeing. A flash of those old days passes behind his eyes, sharp and bright. He snaps his eyes open again, blinking against the fuzzy image of Hiyori still standing with her hand on his head. His vision clears and with it comes all the knowledge and awareness of everything that is wrong with this picture.

Yato manages not to scramble, reaching up with his free hand to circle the wrist of hers. Now, he’s holding both her hands. Despite how unwise it is, he loves it. He loves holding her hands. She doesn’t even seem to mind how clammy his palms are.

“Jusd a little wud,” he croaks with half a smile, throat dry for all kinds of reasons. Hiyori tightens her fingers around his.

“You should lay down, Yato.”

It doesn’t really sound like an offer, more like a fact, and Yato shrugs one shoulder to demonstrate the unlikelihood of it happening. He knows he looks like shit; he doesn’t need a mirror to guess what’s giving him away: the itchy, tired quality of his eyes, the pale chill of his skin contrasting with the angry flush of his face, his chapped nose, his parted lips for breath. Didn’t take a detective to put those pieces into an obvious picture. The big reveal is, ta-da, it’s not like he can get a spare second to deal with any of it.

Hiyori starts dragging him with both his hands, taking measured steps backwards toward the sitting room. Yato plants his heels, still strong enough to completely foil her.

“Dno timeb,” he says. She tugs him again and he doesn’t budge. When her lips purse, Yato feels suddenly so tired. Reassuring both Hiyori and Yukine is too tough a battle for him right now. Easier than cheering her up is just blowing her off, and as much as the idea repels him, he can find no better alternative. Once Yukine comes downstairs, it’ll be two against one. He has to bench one of them.

Yato snorts the deepest breath he can through his nose, ensuring the gurgling, stunted noise is loud enough to fill the quiet room. Hiyori’s eyes pinch a little and then she gives him a full face of disgust when he swallows.

“Yato-!” She lets go of his hands and he tries not to cringe as she wipes them against her pajamas. “Use a tissue!”

He drags a sleeve under his nose, and when he speaks, his voice is only a tiny bit clearer. “I’b good. Stop worryi’g.”

“You don’t look good,” Hiyori says, crossing her arms. If she’s waiting for him to admit to anything, she’ll be standing there a good long while. Yato stuffs his hands back into his pockets, which are still bulging with used tissues, scarves, and handkerchiefs.

“It was a lo’g dnight,” he remarks. No way is he telling her about running his ass away from Bishamonten all evening. Hiyori would blow a gasket.

A flurry of footsteps on the stairs draws Yato’s attention, and he’s greeted by Yukine skidding into the kitchen. He’s got red lipstick smeared down his chin, glittery blue eyeshadow smudged around his lashes, and his hair is a mess with barrettes. He beelines for Yato and ducks behind him just as they hear a cloying voice shouting, “Yuuuuukine~!”

Two girls come giggling into the room, pausing when they catch sight of them. Their names escape him, but Yato knows they are Hiyori’s school friends. The one with the short hair gives him a huge smile.

“Is this Yato? Hm?”

Glasses Girl leans over the other one’s shoulder, cutting mischievous eyes to Hiyori. “As in, Yukine’s handsome big brother Yato?”

“I told you he’s not handsome!” Yukine pipes up from behind Yato, peeking out around his arm. “He’s gross, smells like garbage, and spends his money like an idiot.”

“You’re really gonna say thad to the guy who just bought you a skateboard?” Yato mutters, but he’s super distracted by the handsome comment. While Yukine edges into the open a little more to search for his gift, Yato slides his gaze to Hiyori and finds her much pinker in the face. She meets his eyes and then determinedly looks away.

“Yes, that’s Yato,” she says. She’s flustered, which is convenient because she isn’t keen on babying him anymore but it’s also piqued his curiosity. It occurs to him that this is the first time her friends have noticed him, and that’s probably because they were expecting him. Someone told them he was coming. “He has to leave now.”

“Hang on!” Short Hair says. “He just got here, and we need to approve of him.”

“That’s right,” Glasses Girl agrees. “We can’t just have any man running off with our precious Hiyori, can we dear?”

The two of them laugh together, and Yato feels a stab of irrational annoyance. He appreciates humans and creatures of the Near Shore. It’s why he grants wishes, tries to help the kids he can, but his head has really started to pound and now that the spell-binding fever trance with Hiyori is broken, he just wants to get the hell home and pass out under a blanket. Yukine’s warmth pressed behind him is a welcome blessing. The voices hollow out for a moment, his vision blinks, and the next thing he knows, Yukine’s got two arms around his middle.

“Holy shit, are you okay?” the kid asks. His Regalia sounds shaky which tweaks a nerve in Yato. He struggles to get his eyes to focus this time, noticing his feet aren’t actually supporting him anymore. Hiyori’s hand is around one of his arms, and other girls look on with wide eyes.

“Yato, sit down,” she says, and between the two of his friends, Yato finds himself bum to the tile. His head is seriously throbbing, prompting him to press a palm to his temple.

“W-Whad happended?” he asks. The strange jump in time had not escaped him. Hiyori turns and commands something of Glasses Girl and Short Hair, who both scamper off into another room. Yukine’s still behind him, both hands clinging to Yato’s shoulders.

“You almost fainted,” Hiyori informs him, then leans forward. The rustle of her silky pajamas seems so loud, so close, and then the cool, smooth skin of her cheek is pressing against the burning, sweat heavy span of his forehead. “You’re really warm…”

“Id’s dormal,” he rasps as she sits back, even though it’s not, because like hell is he going to get stuck here overnight like some kind of weakling. He is a god, a warrior, and no matter how badly he does want that fluffy guest bed upstairs he isn’t going to take it.

“No, it’s not!” Yukine screeches by his ear. He flinches forward, fighting the instinct to elbow the kid in the face. With a sinking heart, he feels Yukine carding through his hair to see the bare skin of his neck. Looking for blight.

“Sure it is,” Yato insists, keeping his voice light. “I swead all the time, rembember?” When he gets no answer save for Yukine’s fingers skirting around his nape, he shivers and snaps, “Wouldja cut id out, there’s dno blight!”

“Stop pretending like you’re okay when you’re not!”

“Shh, they’ll hear you!” Hiyori hisses, and the way she reaches to stroke gentle touches against his cheek and forehead contrast with her tone. Oh right, far as her friends knew, Yato and Yukine were perfectly human. Even though she stays tense, her tone softens when she speaks again. “Yato… your, um…”

He narrows his eyes a little, expectant, still slumped against a grumbling Yukine and in no real hurry to stand up again. Hiyori bites her bottom lip and then yanks her sleeve over one hand, reaching forward. Yato sits there dumbly and it only dawns on him a second before her clean pajamas make contact with his nose. One hand flashes up to cover his face and the other blocks her decent.

He feels the slick trickle of mess he hadn’t noticed before and wants to die. His face flushes lava hot. What’s worse, is he has no tissues on him and neither does she. All he can do is sniffle and snort up what he can and rub away the rest, which is endlessly mortifying with her on her knees in front of him, staring. And just when it can’t get any worse, all the abuse to his nose stirs up that familiar, swelling sensation. It rolls down his sinuses like a stinging wave, causing his eyes to water at the ferocity.

“Sorry,” he breathes, voice thick as he cups both hands over his nose and mouth. That’s all he has time for. His lungs cinch a second after, causing him to squeak in the back of his throat as the tickle crests. “hh’djshh!...ih!’hdzshh!.. hih’dxzshh!...” They beat on him again and again, a twitch he can’t shake, and he tries to ignore how wet his hands are getting. “… uh’DJZZssch!.. huh’GZZSS’hh!!”

Finally the urge leaves him, but now he can’t take his hands away from his face. He keeps his eyes tightly closed, not wanting to see Hiyori’s expression. Plus he’s a little out of breath and his head is seriously spinning. For a moment all he hears is the ringing in his ears, feel the slow drips of his nose, and then he becomes aware of Yukine saying his name. Yato cracks open his eyes to find a handful of tissues waving in his face, offered by his Regalia, who stays an anchor at his back.

He doesn’t want to move his hand to take one, frozen by the heat in his cheeks. Yato cannot remember a more embarrassing moment in his long existence, but that could just be the fever talking. Hiyori implores him with huge lilac eyes, asking him silently for something, but hell if he knew what she wanted. The moment lingers, stretching thin, more fragile by the second.

The other girls’ footsteps snap it in half. “Hey, we got the bowl and cloth, and – ”

Yato doesn’t hear the rest because he grabs Yukine by the wrist and suddenly they are at the stoop of one of Tenjin’s old shrines. The journey saps him completely, and Yato has the sensation of falling forward before he knows no more.

/tbc

Edited March 12, 2016 by BlackScatter
Spacing was so janky LOL

February 6, 2016

Holy hell that's... delicious

*fans self*

That almost-fating is really nice ok

February 7, 2016

O//////O you, my friend, are a master!! this chapter, omg. I just cant!!! It's too BEAUTIFUL!!!!!! please excuse me as I go fangirl in the corner :rollfast:

February 13, 2016

OKAY HELLO THIS IS FANTASITC.

POOR YATO!!!

Dude, your writing is just... phenomenal. Your narration is so strongly voice-driven and the sentences you turn are beautiful. You've captured that part of Yato that is self-loathing, and it's a part he doesn't show, so being inside his head during a time when it's at its worst is so interesting and entertaining. It's so cool to hear everything going on inside his head, and then see the other characters react to the mask he covers it with. And I love watching the progression of the fic where he has a harder and harder time maintaining that mask. Yato is my BABE, and you have done him justice, and this whole story feels like a gift I should thank you for. <3 The jersey god needs a BIG hug.

On 2/6/2016 at 0:35 PM, BlackScatter said:

He sweats when he feels threatened, nervous, or like he’s monumentally fucked something up.

Right now he’s feeling varying degrees of all three.

^^THIS. I just... I don't even have words for how much I love this. Like I said before, I love the Yato you are portraying in this fic, and this is a perfect example of it.

On 2/6/2016 at 0:35 PM, BlackScatter said:

His voice is going to come out congested and deep no matter what he does, and she’s going to hear it. He tries to pick words without consonants.

“Hey,” he says. Good start. “Just.. here for the kid.” He ignore the impulse to high-five himself for avoiding any obvious stuffy sounds. Though the congestion is still there, dulling and darkening his voice.

^^I'm really, really resisting the urge to quote this who giant block of wonderfulness, because honestly every single sentence you write is fantastic, so I'm trying to keep it to my favorite FAVORITE parts, and I can't not respond to this one. Aside from all the butterflies-in-my-tummy glory of Yato trying not to sound congested, I freakin LOVE how his doofiness still comes out even inside his own head at the height of his angst. :laugh: He really WOULD give himself a high-five.

On 2/6/2016 at 0:35 PM, BlackScatter said:

Only when Hiyori catches his fingers in one delicate, lily-pale hand does Yato realize he’d almost done just that. They are much closer together now, and her face fills every inch of his view. He cannot look past her if he tried, doesn’t want to. His fingers are careful, achingly slow as they fold around her hand. The way her cheeks darken captivates him. Yato sways forward just ever so slightly and Hiyori stops his approach with a hand to his forehead. It seals there and Yato cannot keep himself from sagging against the cool relief.

“You have a fever…?”

^^*clutches heart**keels over**dies happy happy death* :cryhappy: This. Is. So. Beautiful.

On 2/6/2016 at 0:35 PM, BlackScatter said:

Easier than cheering her up is just blowing her off, and as much as the idea repels him, he can find no better alternative. Once Yukine comes downstairs, it’ll be two against one. He has to bench one of them.

^^This part, and all that immediately follows, HURTS me. I FEEL SO BAD FOR YATO. But uggghhhh it's so SPOT ON. I see Yato as someone (especially in the beginning) who doesn't really know how to be friends with someone. He's gone hundreds of years of never really having someone to depend on, and then Yukine and Hiyori come into his life and everything changes. He's afraid to be vulnerable in front of them, because he still doesn't fully understand the concept of people taking care of one another. This part is so painful, but so true to his character. <3

On 2/6/2016 at 0:35 PM, BlackScatter said:

The two of them laugh together, and Yato feels a stab of irrational annoyance. He appreciates humans and creatures of the Near Shore. It’s why he grants wishes, tries to help the kids he can, but his head has really started to pound and now that the spell-binding fever trance with Hiyori is broken, he just wants to get the hell home and pass out under a blanket. Yukine’s warmth pressed behind him is a welcome blessing. The voices hollow out for a moment, his vision blinks, and the next thing he knows, Yukine’s got two arms around his middle.

^^I'm still trying realllllly hard not to quote a whole giant chunk because this part is EXPERTLY written. The way you convey him nearly fainting brings us RIGHT THERE with him.

I also wanna comment on the last few paragraphs, because HOLY HELL BlackScatter, I feel lightheaded and hazy just reading them. I have never read a better portrayal of the sensation of being not all there and about to pass out. And even apart from the physical empathy you imbue it with, it's also filled to the brim with emotion and FEELS! Dude, this whole fic is painfully sad, but in the best possible way. It is so, so good and I can't say it enough. Your writing is beyond phenomenal. <3

February 15, 2016

Aaaaa, thank you for posting part 3! I'm going to come back and comment on it tomorrow! (I was going to read it tonight, but the forum update kind of stabbed me in the eye and I had to go make sure everything was how I wanted it....)

February 20, 2016

OMG THIS IS SO AWESOME

Sorry I didn't get back before, it's been a busy week, but THIS MAKES EVERYTHING OKAY HOLY SHIT

The moment with Hiyori! Is perfect! It's so tender, auuuugh, I was so warm with feels while reading it. The way you wrote them is just so sweet, with Yato being all melancholy about his past, and Hiyori being so caring. It's really true to their relationship in canon. You're so good at fitting right into the real thing! I feel so blessed here, because it's like I can watch the anime in my head while reading and also there's mess. So much. I'm so happy. The scene in the kitchen where Yato almost passes out is so well done, and I love Yukine at every moment, and the fact that Hiyori's friends were expecting handsome older brother Yato, and EVERYTHING.

Thank you so, so much! I can't wait to read the next part!

March 17, 2016

@Sitruuna : AHHH, I'm so glad you liked it! I'm kind of a fan of almost-fainting too ;D

@bazzpop00 : QWQ Thank you so much!! That's such a high compliment >w<. I'm happy it hit all the right fangirl buttons~

@alias : ALIAS!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!! YOUR COMMENTS, SERIOUSLY. Oh my god, they give me life. I must have read your comment like 10 times when you first posted, and I actually came back here more than a few times to get more energy as I finished up the last part. Knowing you enjoyed this so much and cared to even pick out pieces to comment on specifically really encouraged me to keep going when I was bogged down with work <3. I cannot thank you enough for how much you've supported this fic, even if some of the content isn't exactly your thing QwQ. I can receive no higher compliment, honestly <3. You're the best, and I hope you like this last part~

@LeapYearKisses : YOU ARE SO WELCOME, LYK~! I wanted to make sure this was exactly what you wanted, and am overjoyed to know that you are enjoying! Your happiness gives me happiness, hahaha <3. And knowing that what I'm writing really matches up with the anime/manga enough to almost be another continuation is REALLY FRIGGIN AWESOME~!! THANK YOU SO MUCH <3. I hope this last part is everything you like and hoped for! I tried to end it just before the real caretaking would begin so it wouldn't be too boring hahaha

A/N: LAST CHAPTEERRRRRRR~ WOW! Sorry it took me so long to finish this. I'm very happy to have the last part up and set this fic into my completion folder <3. I hope you all enjoy! (especially you LYK) -- As always WARNINGS for lots of mess/snot, and some pretty intense swearing LOL.

~ Day Off Denial, Part 4 ~

They are not in the kitchen, but neither are they at one of Tenjin’s old shrines. They are somewhere open, untouched by god, man, or phantom. Borderless and soundless save for the wind, Yato is standing in a field surrounded by a ring of blossoming cherry trees. It’s the middle of the night, not as pretty as it would be in the sunlight, but he’s too distracted by the vision of Hiyori at the other end of the clearing. She’s in a kimono, the colors of spring, her lips as red as the rose. He doesn’t need god-like senses to see how gorgeous she is from this distance, walking toward him barefoot with hair so long it nearly drags the ground. It drapes around her like a waterfall, lightly waved and curled.

She’s more than a girl, she’s a goddess. Flowers grow where her feet touch the ground, the stars swirl as if drawn to her gravity, and she’s closing the distance between them with such smiling purpose that Yato doesn’t have the damnedest idea of what he’s supposed to do. Either the field is smaller than he originally assumed or her leg-span is giant, because suddenly she’s quite close and he panics.

Yato scrambles from her so quickly – desperate to put distance between them – that he trips over his own feet and ends up thudding hard onto his ass. The dull pain barely registers because Hiyori gasps; a second later she’s down on her knees with him, leaning close. He shrinks as she crawls toward him. Yato darts his gaze to the flicking pink tail now sprouting behind her, then to her real body laying peacefully on the grass, asleep. Hiyori draws his attention again when she advances even closer, her chest now dangerously hovering over his raised knees. Yato’s back thuds against what feels like the trunk of a tree.

She’s all concern, crowding him because this is what Hiyori does when she’s afraid for someone. Yato’s seen her lose her body over less, drawn in to a task, too curious about a place or a person. She’s touched him before, cupping his cheeks, hugging him, carrying him across her shoulders and spine that one rough afternoon that led to an evening of penance. But tonight she touches him like she never has before.

Their noses bump, their foreheads slide, and her lips meet his with such fervor, he cracks his head against the bark behind him with a noise in the back of his throat. Honestly he’s never had much control over Hiyori, not from the moment he met her and definitely not now. His hands find her shoulders in some desperate effort to slow her down, have her reconsider, because really… him?

She’s young, kind, pretty, very smart, has her whole life ahead of her, and she’s going to waste a kiss on him? He can’t let her do that. There would be regrets someday, eventually. There always is.

Yato separates them by bare inches, still able to feel her breath against his lips. He feels drunk with it, the air so heavy with heat his head is swimming. Unable to meet her eyes, he tries and fails to keep the fear out of his voice. “H-Hiyori-…”

A moment later he’s slipping sideways against the tree, hits the grass with a whfff of air and a brief flutter of stray weeds. Hiyori looms over him, the moonlight making her hair glow and her eyes dark. Despite the mischievous position they’re in – one that has Yato tensing his wrists where they are cuffed above his head by her fingers – her smile is genuinely sweet. He’s not sure when the mood shifted, because Yato can see the intention in the way her body shifts against his, settling her weight at his hips as she leans forward.

Moments ago she had been worried for him, and now he was the worried one. Turning his head away, absolutely determined to keep her pure for someone special she’d meet years from now, Yato closes his eyes.

And of course, a blade of grass works its way directly up his nose. The tickle is fierce and immediate, tears springing to his eyes as Hiyori’s hair curtains his blurring vision. Chest ballooning with a weak sound of protest, Yato loses track of the colors and sounds, consumed by the urge.

“ack’DZSSCH!”

“Ugh-!!”

Yato opens his eyes again, and in the haze he finds the moon. It has lost the white intensity from before, and after a moment of laying still, Yato realizes he’s not on grass either. Picking his fingers along the surface, the spongy texture tells him it’s wet wood. Tenjin’s old shrine. And Hiyori isn’t there either. Lulling his head to the side, Yato blinks at Yukine. His Regalia is scrubbing his face with one of his long sleeves.

“You’re so damn nasty,” he’s muttering, still rubbing like a rodent trying to clean its muzzle. Yato watches for a while, thoughts darting through him too quick to catch. His head is boiling; the rest of him is icing over. When he finally rolls his gaze back to the sky, tracking stars, mesmerized by the ghostly fog of his breath, Yato tries not to think of the dream. He doesn’t have to work hard because a second later, Yukine glues against his side and hangs on.

“Fuck you,” he chokes, and Yato can hear the tears in his eyes without having to look. Can feel the burning tug of them in his own chest. He loops an arm around the boy’s shoulders and sighs. It’s a rattling sound. “I didn’t know when you’d wake up.”

“I’b sorry,” Yato says, grating his words through a wall of congestion. It’s only after he speaks that he feels the salty taste of his own snot on his lips, not having realized until this moment how badly his nose is running. After a fleeting stab of humiliation, Yato just lets his head tilt away and ceases to care. It’s just him and Yukine; the brat already thinks he’s gross anyway. Besides, it’s hard to think past the headache, which is only getting worse because of a weird, annoying clicking noise nearby.

Yukine crowds closer, and when he throws a leg over Yato’s waist to maximize contact, Yato’s suddenly aware of how much he’s shivering. So much that his abs ache. That weird, annoying clicking noise is actually Yato’s teeth chattering. Yukine’s also cold, of course, and the knowledge twinges an alert in Yato’s programming that has him pushing up on his elbows.

Moving shifts the congestion in his sinuses, and sneezes are on the way. They smack him in the face and Yato tosses his head back, audibly hitching toward the first one. “Hih-!.. hh-! HHTZZSH-!.. hh-!DJSHHH!..hah-!RRSHHH’UU!.. HH-!”

The last one toys with him, tickle-tickle-tickling him until his expression collapses with irritation. “HH’DJZZSSH!!”

He’s expelled what feels like a significant amount of mess, feeling it drip from his nose, probably coating his lap or the front of his jacket. But with how badly his head is spinning, he really can’t be bothered with it. Right now he’s focused solely on staying conscious, and enjoying the buzzing relief in his nose even if the itch doesn’t leave him completely.

He jumps when something rough chuffs against his nose, and blinks cross-eyed to find Yukine is wiping away mess with the grimy edge of his own sleeve. It’s as touching as it is embarrassing, and neither of them say anything about it. Yato waits, Yukine tends to him, and when it’s finished, Yato tries to stand. It’s hard with the fever roaring through him like a wind-tunnel, and even harder with Yukine attached, no intention of letting go. Yato barely has the energy to get up, let alone worm out of his hold. Collapsing back against the ground, Yukine leans up to glare down at him.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he says, voice tremulous from more than just the cold. Yato blinks, the movement slow and gummy. He’s so tired, but it’s impossible to sleep out in the damp cold.

“We have to ged oud of the weather,” Yato croaks, slightly dazed. There’s a disconnected quality to everything he’s saying and doing; another shiver tears through him, and he unconsciously jerks himself into a tighter ball in an attempt to keep heat in.

“Yeah, I know,” Yukine says. He settles them both again, clumsy but with genuine intent. Yato figures the kid assumes he won’t remember all this when the fever breaks. He doesn’t care either way; Yato didn’t need to get sick to know Yukine cares about him. It’s why he never gave up on his Regalia in the first place.

When Yukine starts to care, he never stops.

“Hiyori’s bringing a car,” Yukine says.

Hiyori, too. She cares more than she ought. Yato stews on this for a moment before catching his breath, turning his head to sniffle against the cold air.

“She’s combi’g here?”

“Course,” Yukine says. Yato hears the roll of his eyes rather than sees it. “She started calling you the second we left, but seeing as you passed out, like a fucking bonehead, I had to answer it. Told her where we were.”

Yato closes his eyes again, squinting them open when he feels Yukine scruffing a sleeve beneath his nose once more, probably trying to clean up more leakage. This time it irritates rather than alleviates, and Yato jogs with a few quick inhales.

“hh – hh – hh – hh’IITSH’iu!”

It’s a little smaller than the rest of them, but twice as itchy, and Yato snatches a hand up to his face to rub at his nose himself. His nostrils feel moist and squeak when he tries to sniffle, prompting Yukine to mutter under his breath. They fall silent together as they both shiver, and Yato finds it in him to be thankful they’re at least under an awning instead of laying out in the open where the slushy sleet can work on them.

Eventually Yato asks, “Lookgi’g oud for be, huh?”

And Yukine snaps, “Someone has to.”

Then there’s the too-bright beams of someone’s headlights, which has Yato tucking his head to the side when it adds Miracle Grow onto his already blooming headache. Yukine hitches up, settles hands on the wood at either side of Yato’s head, and plops down on Yato’s hips. He grunts at the added weight, darting his eyes to glare at the blonde menace perched on top of him.

Yukine only crosses his arms. “You keep bolting so I gotta take drastic measures. Eat the cake you bake, asshole.”

Yato groans because he’s sure Yukine stole that horrendous cake comment from him at some point. He’d be impressed with himself for teaching the kid good comebacks if he wasn’t at the receiving end of it. Small though he is, he’s heavy, so Yato can do nothing but lay there and wheeze like an asthmatic, trembling, until a new face blurs into his line of sight.

With a navy, soft-woolen scarf around her neck and absolute fury in her eyes, she’s never looked so beautiful. Not even in his dreams.

“Hey,” he croaks, trying not to smile because really, there’s nothing to fucking smile over. But then again, he’s always loved the feeling of giving up. Giving up the blade, the blood, the carnage. Giving up the money for trivial things instead of the big ones. And giving up now, laying here with his arms sprawled, crushed under Yukine’s fat ass and Hiyori’s accusing scowl.

It’s feels like being free. And he only gets that sort of feeling once in a great long while.

“This isn’t something to laugh about,” she admonishes, kneeling by his side to smooth hair from his forehead and touch him with only the slightest hesitation. Yato can only grin wider, and he knows his blue eyes must be electric because of his fever. They always get brighter when he’s running hot.

Yukine shakes his head, both uncomfortable and annoyed. “He’s delirious or somethin’.”

“Or just speechless,” Yato sighs, so quietly that he’s certain only he hears it. He’s not brave enough to say that to her face, fever or not. But an awful piece of him hopes she heard it anyway.

Hiyori leans closer, eyebrows pinching. “What, Yato?”

Yukine shivers above him, and Yato shudders in sympathy. Then can’t stop.

“He’s like a massage chair,” Yukine gripes, finally getting up and allowing Yato the chance to breathe deeper. It’s a mistake, because a second later he has to roll onto his side, panting as his chest aches as he works himself up to another sneeze.

“et’DJZZSschh!” He can’t be bothered with covering his mouth, just letting his lips part, jaw go slack, eyes fall closed, and nose twitch until the bothersome reflex works itself out. “uh’TTSSCH’iuu!”

They’re getting bigger, heavier, with more hang-time between. He’s really tired.

Hiyori’s already hefting him up by the armpits before he realizes she’s gotten her hands on him. “You’re coming with me and going straight to bed, you hear me?”

Oh, he hears her all right. And it’s making his cheeks burn with more than illness. Yukine hovers nearby, tight from the chill but utterly focused on the task of getting Yato into the car. Years of living (or existing, if that’s more accurate for gods) has given Yato a sixth sense and he knows, just knows, as soon as he gets into that warm car he’s going to fall asleep and lose all coherency for at least 24 hours. When he wakes up, he’ll have lost any nerve he was trying to gather.

Fever makes him stupid, but it also makes him strong in ways he never could be in his right mind. With the last of his strength, Yato squirms in Hiyori’s grip. She fusses with him, threatening to knock him out with a wrestling move if he doesn’t come quietly. It’s starting to feel more like a kidnapping than a rescue until he gets hold of her wrists, gathers his feet beneath him, and spins around.

He sways into her, unsteady, sticky, probably unsightly, but damn it, he is a determined son of a bitch and he would do this before he passed out and forgot all his courage in favor of denial. So he squares his shoulders, blinks some sweat out of his eyes, and moves both his hands to her shoulders.

“Go oud with lunch to be,” he says.

Nobody says anything for a stretch of seconds, until Yato realizes not only the congestion is working against him, but his boiling brain is too. Trust it to be his luck that he finally gets the balls to do this and she doesn’t even know what he’s asking.

“Shid,” he swears, because this is an oversight that calls for such a word and he’s not exactly in full control over what his mouth is doing right now. “I mbean, go oud with be to lunch.”

“But we all go out to lunch all the time,” Yukine says, like he spooked Yato’s forgot about all those times in the diners and family restaurants. Yato stumbles when he swings his gaze onto the kid, steadied only by a frozen, silent Hiyori holding his shoulders in turn.

“Dnot you!” Then he’s got his sights set on Hiyori again, swallowed by her wide eyes. He fights the reflex to say something about them because he’s fucking this up enough as it is. “Jusd you. Let’s go to lunch, or dindder, or breakfast, or a middight sndack by your fridge, or for hotdogs at a WrestleBania batch. Adythi’g…”

The very timid, injured, vulnerable voice inside him – the one he usually listens to – is screaming at him: You’re fucking it up, you’re fucking it up, you idiot, she’ll leave you standing here in the snow and forget you forever for this, you fool. But it’s easy to ignore it when he can barely stand and his forehead feels like it could fry an egg.

“I don’d care, as lo’g as there’s food and you’re there,” Yato huffs, starting to lose his breath because he’s still shivering like crazy and there’s darkness playing at the edge of his vision. Hiyori tightens her fingers, digging into his shoulder blades, and for what feels like an age, they stare into one another’s eyes. Yato has an irrational fear that whoever breaks contact first is the loser.

Hiyori blinks first, and one of her hands slides up toward his neck, to thumb the skin there. He still doesn’t have on his blue scarf, so the flesh there is accessible, a rare treat. She doesn’t blush and she doesn’t stutter; it’s hard to read her expression because she isn’t smiling either. And when she speaks, her voice is quiet. It still manages to boom loud in his ears.

“Well, there’s soup at my house right now…”

Yato’s knees stop working and he would have hit the ground if not for Yukine, who again darts forward to take the brunt of Yato’s fall with a colorful oath. Hiyori clutches the fabric of his stained jacket in her clean fingers. Between the two of them, they shuffle him to Hiyori’s car and get him in. It’s very warm, dark, and Yato finds himself squished between the two of them. He slouches in the middle seat, scarcely able to keep his eyes open.

The only thought running through his mind on glorious repeat is, She didn’t say no.

Yukine shakes his head and complains about having the biggest idiot in the world for a master.

Hiyori finds one of Yato’s freezing cold hands to hold in her lap, staring ahead with a soft, peaceful expression on her face.

Yato drifts toward sleep, still thinking, She didn’t say no.

/fin~

March 18, 2016

This was too perfect! I really enjoyed reading all of these chapters and can easily say that i'll reread them all again ^^ I also really like all of the yatori in here, plus you have such a great sense of humor and the Yato you write is so cute and funny as all hell :laughbounce: this is honestly one of my favorite noragami fics, amazing job

March 18, 2016

Aaaaaahhhhh I'm a little sad that this is the last chaoter of this tbh. This has been a great fic to follow :heart:

This is a great chapter though. Yato's so sick and miserable and feverish and hnng idk.

Thank you for writing&sharing this.

March 21, 2016

Aaaaaaaaa, this is AMAZING! This is everything I could possibly have asked for! BlackScatter, thank you so, so much! I'm so glad you took the time to make this awesome piece of fic. I love everything about it. Your characterization is spot on. Poor Yato's dreams in this last installment were heartrending, but I could totally see him pulling away like that, even in his own fantasies, thinking he's not good enough. But then Hiyori doesn't say no, because AHHHHH, this is so true to canon! I just love how this whole time it felt like I was watching a particularly awesome episode of the show. (The mess was just holy shit) Yukine was a perfect baby through the whole thing, oscillating between crabby and concerned and just being the adorable little jerk that I love so much!

I've had a lot of wonderful Secret Santa presents over the years, but I would like to thank you sincerely for keeping up with this and finishing it. It pushes all my buttons, it's a stunning piece of writing, and I enjoyed every moment of it!

Secret Santa for LeapYearKisses! (Noragami [M], Yato) COMPLETE]

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