Disclaimer: Noragami belongs to AdachiToka

This Fleeting Moment

He wishes that he had stayed dead because when he's alive he can feel the darkness under his skin, rumbling like some slumbering giant in his heart-center, soaking its way into his bones so it can find a nice fleshy organ to reside in and later consume.

Forever.

At moments like these, he wishes he was dead, so he couldn't feel the mouth of darkness grin at his spine. Yato's so cold and far away and Yukine can't tell him that he's afraid because it's too embarrassing even though Yato knows.

And Yukine knows he knows because every night, as they settle near the shrine, Yato holds out an arm and awkwardly asks, "Do you want to sleep near, or something?"

And Yukine shakes his head rapidly, and says through grit teeth. "As if. What am I? Five?"

And he can usually make it. He can usually handle the dark because he keeps his eyes fixed on a single streetlight. A single burning ray from far away. And he never lets his eyes leave it, because if he loses sight of it for even a second, the darkness pounces and whispers its disgusting hellos and Yukine whimpers in the dark.

But tonight is different because the streetlight is broken.

He lays on his side on the steps of Tenjin's shrine, his fingers barely opening and closing over his palm as if he's grasping for something. And he is. In his mind he can see sunrise. The safety of sunrise. But his fingers can't take hold of it. Darkness is dancing along his flesh, tap-dancing and causing his heart to flutter and flicker like the streetlight that has kept him safe for so many nights up till now.

When the wind blows, things don't get much better. He wants to shiver but he can't risk such a drastic move. He's afraid to move, so so afraid to move. Because if he moves, then the darkness knows he isn't sleeping.

His eyelids flutter open, but all he can see is gray stone and darkness, gray stone and darkness. All he can feel is gray stone and darkness. Until something cold kisses his right cheekbone. His eyelids fly open as the kiss melts off down his face and past his lips. Cold water. It's snowing.

Yukine. He was named for the snow, but tonight it's betrayed him. In seconds it's falling faster and harder and even though he tries his absolute hardest, he can't help but shiver.

And the darkness awakens.

Are you scared? Don't be. We haven't done anything yet.

He's lying in cold anticipation like a butterfly in a web. Waiting for something to happen. Waiting for his body to be carved open and his soul to be ripped out. His chest is hurting and he's thinking of that little girl that was waiting for her mother– the one that was overtaken by the ayakashi. He's telling himself over and over again, "Four hours till morning, four hours till morning, four hours till morning."

You won't be here in the morning.

Where are these voices coming from? He struggles against them with a weak mental utter, I will be here.

No you won't.

Y-Yes, I will.

No. You have no clue what we'll do to you. And guess what? When we're finished, no one will see you disappear.

And just like that he's crying. No one will see him disappear. No one sees him now. No one. His tears come down but the snowflakes come, too, until his face is sticky with hot and cold liquids. He can't stop crying because in this moment, he's scared. And in this moment it's dark. And in this moment he wishes with every cord of his heart that he had stayed dead.

- x -

But Yato can feel him. Yato can feel the heart-disturbance even though it's occurring less than ten feet away. He can feel the rattling of anguish and the soul-crushing fear. He can hear Yukine crying and he can hear the throat-clogged whimpers.

Still, Yato waits.

He waits and waits as the snow comes down in gentle pokes on his forehead and cheeks. He stares straight ahead into the night. He can see that there are no ayakashi near. Yukine's fears are of his own imagination.

He reaches a hand up and clenches the fabric over his heart as if it were shattering and he has to keep the pieces together. Yukine is terrified, petrified, stupefied and crying not too far away and Yato can't take it any longer.

He pushes himself up on his elbow and walks down the cold gray stone to the huddled figure on the ground that pretends to be sleeping as Yato gets closer. When his footfalls stop, the figure flinches. The figure has buried his head so deeply in his arm that it's an unnatural position to sleep in. But Yato knows that he's doing it to hide his tears.

'I know you're awake,' he wants to say, but Yukine doesn't need an argument right now. Yato sits down on the stones and puts a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Yukine flinches.

"You will be here in the morning. No matter what I have to do, I'll make sure of it."

Yukine cracks one eye open. The corners of Yato's lips curl slightly.

"Didn't I tell you when I made you my regalia? You have nothing to fear anymore. I've granted you a place to belong forever. Everything will be alright." He unzips his jacket and throws it over the boy before slipping in beside him.

Yukine watches with trembling eyes, shining like stars from the tears. He smiles back at him– a small, sheepish, childish smile. His fingers open and close, open and close, as he grasps for the jacket. "I don't want this. You sweat all over it." His voice is like the morning.

"Well then you can buy me a new one when the time comes," Yato replies, gently poking the boy in the forehead before he closes his eyes.

And Yukine thinks, as he watches Yato's eyes close, that sometimes he's glad that he's dead. In this fleeting moment, he's so very glad to know Yato.

The snow lulls Yukine's heart to peace. Yato places his arm around the boy and pulls him in closer. "That should do it. You should be able to sleep soundly for a decent four hours."