Author's note: I was thinking of the idea of shinki being released and re-named, and this fic came from that. Written before the reveal about Yato's dad. Hopefully it's not too out there.

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He still isn't used to his new name.

Bishamon had asked him first: "I can name you 'Yuki,' if you wish. You will still be Sekki, though your weapon form may be something else. It may take some getting used to, but I think as 'Yukiha' you would fit right in."

Yukine said nothing. In front of him, Bishamon stood, rubbing her arms with a worried expression on her face, while Yukine hunched and crouched into himself, tired and cold and still weary from grieving. "No," Yukine said. "Name me something else," and Bishamon nodded, quietly.

The brand is on his arm this time. Small and thin, the character snakes around his bicep like strands of a spider's web, and it's easily covered even with shortened sleeves. He looks at himself in the mirror and at the line of his collarbone, the skin bare and pristine and without any trace of Yato's influence. Lying on the bed, Yukine rests his arms behind his head and stares up at the ceiling, listening to the wind outside and watching the spray of shadows flickering from the hall.

xXx

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They're holding hands again. Yukine doesn't mind, in fact, it makes him happy that they're so happy together.

It's just as well. Yukine had suffered through enough of it: the years Yato spent tailing her through high school and university; the bright red blushes and the half-assed attempts to set her up with different boys. "You should just tell her already," Yukine had told him, because he was Yato's guide and the whole thing was starting to irritate him.

It was a warm summer night when he found them; they were sitting along the riverbank, their silhouettes making a heart-shaped shadow against the moonlight. Yukine was about to call out to them when he saw Hiyori's head tilt up toward Yato's; Yato whispered something into Hiyori's neck. Her eyes closed. His lips found hers, and the two distinct dark shapes melded into one large shadow.

Later, Yato made several ham-fisted attempts to tell him that he and Hiyori were a couple now, and it wasn't until Yato launched into a rambling explanation about the birds and the bees and did you know, Yukine, gods don't have to use condoms? that Yukine just rolled his eyes and flatly told him he already knows.

xXx

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"This is your uniform," Kazuma says. He hands Yukine a garment bag as he walks into Yukine's room. "I was unsure of your measurements, so please let me know if this fits. I have extra dress shirts if you need to borrow them," Kazuma says.

"Uh, thanks," Yukine says, and he tosses the garment bag on the bed. The bed is large with tall oak bedposts and a dark embroidered canopy hanging above him. It's strange: Yukine had grown accustomed to sleeping in abandoned shrines and old temple grounds, so the plush down comforters and the soft mattresses of Bishamon's mansion is disconcerting to him. Tall columns, marble facades, it's as if Yukine is living in a very old, very posh museum. He never thought he'd dislike living in comfort, but here he is.

"How are you adjusting?" Kazuma says. Yukine shrugs, staring at his hands. There is dirt under his fingernails and idly he wonders if Bishamon would mind that, being dirty and unhelpful among all her posh, proper shinki.

"Veena is very kind," Kazuma says, gently. He sits next to Yukine, the mattress sinking a little with his weight. "She would understand if you still feel out of place. You have a new life now and a new name. It is a big change. And it's okay for you to still be grieving," Kazuma says. He waits a moment, then stands, carefully straightening the wrinkles of his jacket. He touches the doorknob then turns.

"What Yato did was a kindness. Even if it doesn't feel this way. You must understand that," Kazuma says.

Yukine shrugs. The neck of his collared shirt hangs open, and in the mirror in front of the bed, Yukine can see the bare skin of his collarbone where his old name used to be.

"Well," Kazuma says, and he starts to turn. "Get some rest. We have a big day tomorrow."

"Thanks," Yukine says, and Kazuma quietly closes the door.

xXx

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At first, their relationship is easy.

It doesn't really change anything, in Yukine's book. Hiyori was still his friend and Yato was still just as irritating, except now when the three of them were together, there was no hesitation when Yato would go to hold Hiyori's hand, and there was no awkwardness when Hiyori would splay out next to them, leaning against a tree in a tank top and shorts and one bare leg draped over Yato's lap. At night, Yukine would go back to Kofuku's place and stop waiting up for Yato to come home on time, because he knew he was with Hiyori and he was okay with that.

She started growing old. Yato didn't care. Hiyori was Hiyori and Yato was Yato, and it didn't matter that the humans thought it odd, how an old lady like her could nab a good-looking young man like him.

xXx

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His weapon form is a scythe. Bishamon calls his name and Yukine transforms, the bladed edge of the curved metal catching the light.

But the blade is dull and the handle is heavy, and when the time comes he barely makes a cut. Yukine feels his face burning with shame.

"Your abilities are different now. It's to be expected," Kazuma says.

Yukine sits in his room, utterly defeated, while Kazuma sits next to him, the mattress sinking a little with Kazuma's weight. Slowly, Yukine loosens the tie he was forced to wear and unbuttons the collar of his shirt, silently hating the stupid uniform and wishing Kazuma would just leave. "I'm not leaving until I'm satisfied you won't sting Veena," Kazuma says, and Yukine lifts his head.

"How did you know what I was thinking?" Yukine says.

"I can see it on your face," Kazuma says, and Yukine flounces back on the bed, frustrated. "You did well for your first day out," Kazuma says. "It's not easy working with a team of others, especially since you were on your own for such a long time. Everyone understands. It'll take some time to adjust."

"Tch," Yukine says, and he rolls on his side, looking out the window. "When I was with Yato, I could cut through anything," Yukine says. "When I was with Yato, I even cut too much! When I was with Yato-"

"Yukine," Kazuma says, and the old name hurts him. Yukine frowns and squints his eyes and prays that Bishamon did not get stung.

xXx

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"He's a good kid," Yato was saying, as Yukine hovered in the background, nameless and hands shoved deep in the pockets of his pants. Though Yato was technically not his master anymore, he couldn't imagine working with anyone else: not Tenjin, whose shinki were not needed for combat. And certainly not for Kofuku, where Yukine's talent would go to waste ("She'd just have you helping out Daikoku, she'd never use you!" Yato said).

So it's no surprise they're at Bishamon's, where the two gods talk quietly amongst themselves outside of Yukine's earshot. "He's already worked with Kazuma. And the kid has talent, you could definitely use someone like him," Yato said.

"That's fine," Bishamon said. "But why? Isn't he your shinki?"

And Yukine saw the shadow fall over Yato's eyes.

More words spoken, hushed and urgent. Yukine wandered to the courtyard, where Bishamon's other shinki were playing. Young shinki, non-combat types, who were lost and confused like him. Yukine could easily make friends here. He glanced back at Yato and Bishamon, and their two figures standing at the horizon. He saw Bishamon nod, then walk toward him.

"Come," Bishamon said. "You should stay with me tonight."

Yukine's eyes widened. "But-"

"Do what she says," Yato said. "I'm not your master anymore."

"So that's it?" Yukine said. "All those years and this is it? Are you fucking serious?"

"Yukine-"

"That isn't my name anymore! You took it away!" Tears stung Yukine's eyes. Bishamon touched his shoulder, but Yukine jerked away.

He spent the night crying. Lying in that big fucking bedroom, face buried in the pillows, alone.

xXx

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The gravestone where Hiyori is buried is unattended except for the small vase of flowers Yukine had brought a week earlier. The petals have already wilted, and Kazuma unceremoniously plucks the drooping blossoms and replaces them with fresh stems, before straightening and bowing his head a little in prayer.

"She never had a family," Yukine says. He digs his toe in the ground, frowning. "Yato and I were the only ones who came to her funeral."

Kazuma doesn't say anything, just looks down at her gravestone.

A god without followers would no longer exist. Yato knew this. And yet as he knelt by Hiyori's side, hands clasped and tears edging the corners of his eyes, Yukine knew Yato didn't want to exist in a world without her.

"Shinki still live on even if their masters die," Yato said. "If I don't release you, you'll become a stray. The heavens will never accept you."

Yukine's jaw tightened. "I thought you said I was your blessing," Yukine said. Yato closed his eyes.

"You are," Yato said. And then,

"You may become someone else's after I disappear."