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Epilogue

Yato stayed awake long after Yukine's breathing evened out. He regarded the lump of blankets heaped at the end of his bed—or Bishamon's bed, whatever—and reassured himself that the shinki was asleep.

Then he slipped out of bed, crept outside the room, and, closing the door softly behind him, pulled out his phone and called Father.

Ten minutes later, he found himself waiting in the park, a sliver of moon glinting high above in the night sky. He poked at the grass with his toe and looked around like the lawn might hold all the answers he'd been searching for. He could still feel the reverberations of the struggle that had taken place here. He could almost feel the panic when he found himself face to face with Yukine while Father gloated at his side, the confusion and shock when Bishamon summoned his hafuri, the hopelessness of the fight that came after. The memories were hazy and half-formed, but he could recall bits and pieces. Mostly his own futile struggle to regain control of his body before sinking back into oblivion.

It was a dangerous path to tread, starting down the line of broken memories. Focusing on them made him feel like he was losing himself again, becoming more and more like a mindless ayakashi puppet once more. He didn't want to taste the iron on his tongue or smell the blood clogging his nostrils or see the rusty red crescents beneath his fingernails or watch his body jerk about without his consent.

And he wasn't sure he wanted to traipse down memory lane here, especially. He was tired of turning things over and over in his mind, trying to figure out how things fit together and what to make of Yukine's actions. It was all too complicated and messy and muddled shades of gray, and he hated thinking about his kid like that.

Yukine had only done what he'd thought he had to, only ever tried to protect Yato, and that loyalty could back him into a corner and force him to take extreme measures when things fell apart. That was one of the reasons he wasn't here now, because Yato was afraid he'd still be erratic and unpredictable when Father was involved. And, as painful as it was, Yato no longer trusted him to do the right thing when push came to shove, even if his intentions were good. But he was also still a child who needed to be protected from monsters under the bed, and some things were meant to be done in the hush of night without prying eyes.

Anyway, Yukine was enough of a mess without having to deal with Father again. His guilt and worry and grief were a constant ache nestled in Yato's chest. He wouldn't be able to heal until the shadow Father cast over them was gone.

And so Yato would fix it, because Yukine was still his kid regardless of whether or not Bishamon had claimed him too.

"Ah, there you are, Yaboku. Awfully late to be calling me, isn't it?"

Yato closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He tamped down the fear tingling up and down his spine. The stakes were too high to get distracted so easily.

He turned around, steeling himself. Father strode across the moon-dappled lawn without a care in the world, mouth curved into a sly smirk and eyes glittering victoriously. Nora glided behind him like a shadow, looking more like a ghost than ever with her pale face gleaming white in the moonlight and dark eyes shining black. Yato assessed the situation quickly—Nora's expressionless ambivalence and Father's barely contained triumph and the empty air around them where ayakashi could have lurked.

"Easier to get things done when everyone's asleep," he murmured.

"Fair enough." Father raised an eyebrow and made a show of looking around. "No Yukine?"

"Not tonight."

"Aw, pity. But probably just as well. He ended up being quite troublesome. Poor Yaboku. Even I was surprised that he turned on you so fast. Don't worry, we can find another shinki for you to use. You don't need him."

Yato hummed in a way that might have been mistaken for agreement. Father didn't seem to understand that a shinki wasn't just a tool you could discard when something went wrong, like throwing out a broken dish or holey shoe. Things might be hard and uncomfortable, Yato might not be happy with the choices his hafuri had made, but Yukine was still his kid. You didn't throw out family when you hit a rough patch. You worked things out and patched things up and kept on going, because you loved them anyway.

Father raised an eyebrow but let it go. "I take it you haven't gotten rid of Bishamon and her erratic hafuri yet? You called me awfully early."

Yato watched Nora as she drifted forward a pace to stand beside Father. If Yukine was to be believed, she'd proven to be a lukewarm half-ally at times. Yato would not rely on her help because he knew that Father was her ultimate authority, but it might change how he dealt with her in the aftermath.

"I was never going to need that long," he said.

"Oh? Just trying to keep me guessing?"

"Buying time."

Father's eyes narrowed. "For what?"

Yato shrugged. He had needed to buy Hiyori her safety until Father was gone. And he had needed to buy himself time to do what needed to be done. He might not have planned to put it off for more than a day or two, but this way Bishamon and the kids weren't expecting him to move just yet or watching him as closely to make sure he didn't do something 'stupid'. He would prefer to go about his business undisturbed.

"I'm not going to kill Bishamon," he admitted, finally satisfied that the threat—or at least most of it—was past. The sick feeling clenching his stomach subsided just a little, and he let out his breath.

"Oh really?" Father's eyes narrowed. His hand dropped to the pocket of his coat. "I was hoping you'd learned your lesson and would be a little more cooperative now, but if–" He broke off, eyes widening. "What…?"

He frowned down and rummaged through his pocket. Yato regarded him a moment longer before cutting a flat look in Nora's direction. Her eyes were wide and her lips parted in a small 'o', but the words didn't escape her mouth. She had taken a step forward but then stopped again, hesitating. She stared at a point just behind Yato, mostly concealed behind his body.

"Looking for this?" Yato asked, feeling rather detached from the whole drama. He reached out, and the ayakashi hovering behind him dropped the brush into his hand.

Father's head snapped up, and the shocked expression on his face would have been immensely satisfying if Yato had been able to feel much of anything as of late.

"How did you–?"

"I guess you shouldn't have let me borrow it." Yato twirled the brush between his fingers idly. "One of the ayakashi survived. You didn't really think I'd meet with you if I didn't have a way to prevent you from possessing me again, did you?"

Not that it wasn't still a risk until the brush was safely out of Father's hands, but sometimes you had to take risks.

Father had never looked more rattled, although he'd come close when Bishamon had summoned Yukine right under his nose. "When did you–?"

"You should pay more attention. You always get cocky when you think you've won." Yato narrowed his eyes to slits and regarded him coolly. "I've tolerated just about everything you've ever asked of me, but you went too far this time. I will not be your puppet any longer. How dare you?"

Father pressed his mouth into a thin line. "Yaboku–"

But Yato had had more than enough. He didn't want to listen to threats or pleas or reasoning. He was just so done with everything.

"Yumi."

The ayakashi knew exactly what he wanted, either because he was its master or because he still had more than a little ayakashi in him himself. He could still feel a sticky film coating his insides, all dark and rot. He could still feel the attraction to gloom like blood in the water and an underlying edge of mindless fury like a storm waiting to be unleashed. And he could still feel his ayakashi servant like an extra limb, nearly as battered and bloody from the fight as he but still just as dangerous.

It had an uncomfortable oily grip on his mind, tasted like ash and iron and helpless defeat, but it would prove useful for as long as he had it. No point discarding a tool just because it was uncomfortable to use.

He stepped back and watched impassively as the ayakashi lunged forward in a glowing green blur. Father gave a pleasing yelp as it latched on tight and then took a nosedive into the ground.

"Goodbye, Father," Yato said. "Say hi to Izanami for me."

Father tried to say something else, but his words were lost in the chaos as the ayakashi bored through the ground with as little effort as Kofuku and Kokki. Normally ayakashi were more inclined to bore up from Yomi and wreak havoc on the world above, but this one would follow orders. Ebisu's ayakashi had bored a vent before, so he knew it was possible. And it was far easier to descend into Yomi than to escape it again. Perhaps it would also sense Izanami, the mother of ayakashi. It would bring Father back to its erstwhile mistress.

It only took a second. Yato blinked and Father was gone, along with the ayakashi. There was just a small hole in the ground where they had been, and then that exploded into a vortex of newly freed ayakashi making their escape from the underworld. Yato frowned, but vents opened up every day. This was a small one, and a handful of ayakashi would do far less harm than Father and his pets. He wondered if Bishamon would be up and about to do damage control tomorrow.

Or maybe he would, but he still felt a touch away from breaking and his entire body ached all over and the shadow preying on his mind made it difficult to focus on anything else.

"I guess that was sort of a cheap trick," he murmured, eyeing the raging vent. "But he brought it on himself."

It had happened so fast that Father hadn't had the chance to try stopping it, and Yato had sealed off his exit in advance by stealing the brush. In theory, he might be able to make it back up the vent like Ebisu had. In practice, he was more likely to be torn apart by ayakashi and Izanami would lay claim to him immediately after watching Yato slip through her grasp last time. She wouldn't make the same mistake twice. Neither would Yato, which made it even more ridiculous that Father had actually expected him to come out here and let himself be possessed again.

"What have you done?" Nora breathed.

Yato threw a glance her way, too hollowed out and exhausted to feel much more than the mildest curiosity. "You could have stopped me. You saw what was happening. You could have warned him. You didn't."

She opened her mouth, let it hang there. Her stricken expression deepened as she tore her gaze away from the vent to meet his eyes. "I…"

"Yukine says you were giving him advice. Still, you didn't move against him. But you could have saved him here, or at least tried. Strange." He dropped his gaze back to the hole in the ground. "This is the first time you've chosen me over him."

She made a strangled sort of noise and then fell quiet for a moment before saying, "You weren't you anymore."

"I'm sure some would say that's not such a bad thing."

They watched the vent in silence for a few more seconds.

"Maybe we could–"

"No. It's too late. He's gone. And I'm not going to let you go off on a suicide mission trying to save him."

"He's still your lifeline, Yato."

"Well, he's not dead. Not yet. At least this way we have a chance."

He didn't know if Father would survive Yomi, being human and at Izanami's mercy. He didn't know how long it was reasonable to expect he might. That uncertainty concerned him, made his life seem more fragile than ever before, but he'd take his chances. The other option was that he or Bishamon or the heavens killed Father, and not even that old bastard would be able to hold out much longer with practically the entire pantheon of gods hunting him. Izanami would keep Father on a short leash, and he'd have no sneaky escape once she force-fed him the food of Yomi.

It was hardly the perfect solution, but it was the best he had.

"But…"

Yato slanted a glance in Nora's direction, sensing her turmoil. No matter how bad things got or how much Father hurt her, she would always have a love-hate loyalty to him. Yato understood. He was much the same. This night would haunt him for just as long as it haunted her, as would the choices they'd made.

"I'll need you to corroborate the story I'm going to tell the heavens about the sorcerer being contained. Not that they'd dare follow him into Yomi to finish the job, but it would make our lives a lot easier if they believed a…modified version of events. And then we'll figure out what to do. It's going to be very different from now on."

Nora said nothing. Together, they watched the whirl of chaotic energy slow to a trickle as the vent began to close.

Yato rubbed the bristles of the brush between his fingertips. He wondered if he should toss it down the vent. It would only bring trouble, especially if the heavens discovered that he had possession of it, and it shouldn't do Father much good down in Yomi even if he found it again. It would be a quick and easy solution for getting rid of the brush that had caused so much damage and still posed a very real threat if the wrong person got their hands on it. And Yato didn't have any particular use for it…at least not right now. It would be fitting to get rid of the sorcerer's tools along with the sorcerer.

The vent slowly sealed up, leaving only a scar in the ground. Normal vents didn't close that fast, not even a small one bored by a single wounded ayakashi. Izanami had undoubtedly discovered her visitor. There was nothing to be done now, even if he had second thoughts.

"Well," Yato said. Light was trickling over the horizon now, brightening the night into dawn. Soon, Yukine and the others would be waking. "I guess we should come up with a cover story for what happened here before we run off to tell the heavens. I'm sure you understand that it's easier if they don't know the particulars."

Nora made a sound in the back of her throat that might have been agreement. She still looked more than a little shell-shocked.

Yato would figure out what to do with her later. Right now, it was more important to spin the heavens a tale that they'd believe—one that didn't involve his possession or involvement with the brush. Those were liabilities and abilities that no god was supposed to have. And if the heavens started asking questions, all sorts of nasty things about himself and Yukine and Nora and Bishamon and even Hiyori could come out. It was better that their choices during this crazy ordeal didn't come under close scrutiny.

He would figure out how to placate the heavens and how to deal with Nora, and then he could work things out with Yukine and untangle his snarled knot of love and hate and fear and hurt where Father was concerned and come to terms with what he had done and become. He had promised Yukine that things would get better, and they would. He had made sure that the kid could let Bishamon release him without worry, made sure he could go back home again. It would be okay.

But it wouldn't be the same. He knew better than that. He couldn't entirely trust Yukine right now, and if he couldn't trust his guidepost, then who could he trust? For now, he would be doing things more or less on his own. He still had weeks of blood-drenched memories to sort through and piece together, and he still didn't feel like himself. Still felt too out of control and detached from the person he'd been. Maybe eventually, he'd believe that he could control himself and his own fate again.

But for now, he had learned a sobering lesson in trying to be something he wasn't and believing he could escape himself and his past. Maybe he wasn't quite a proper god of calamity anymore, at least when he had control of his own body, but he wasn't cut out to be a god of fortune either. He'd only been fooling himself with all those big dreams. But maybe he could be something in between, something different. He just needed to figure out what that might be.

"Let's go," he said, more to himself than to Nora.

He twirled the brush between his fingers one last time and shoved it into his pocket before turning away from the closed vent.

There was a new sorcerer in town.

Note: I don't even have an explanation except that the last line/idea popped into my head right near the beginning of writing the story and it was too good to pass up so I had to write an epilogue. Just a teaser—I'm not planning to go into any more depth on that idea, but it opened up a host of interesting possibilities. Let's just hope Yukine starts winning back some trust before Yato does something particularly stupid lol I'm sure it'll be better when Yato doesn't feel like he needs a backup option in case things don't work out.

But aaanywaaay, that's a wrap lol I'm sure they'll be okay in the end :)