About time

Sometime around the beginning of her eight hour of waiting, Hiyori began to list off all the bad things that led up to that point, mainly to force herself to stay awake.

First was the obvious- Yukine had been shot. The poor boy was currently somewhere behind those white double doors, undergoing an operation. Or maybe he was already done and was sleeping off the drugs. Or maybe-

Moving on.

She still felt terribly uncertain about her hospital choice. At the time she was too panicked to think of any other option, taking comfort in knowledge that her father' hospital was on the other side of the city anyway, and dropping her name to bump the boy ahead on the waiting list would save no time at all if he bled out on their way there. So instead she borrowed one of the nurse's cellphones and called Yama-chan, praying her internship schedule remained the same as last term's. She was in luck - the girl asked no questions as she unlocked the back entrance for them, accompanied by a grim-faced doctor. Still, there were no telling whether or not she would attract unwanted attention.

Moreover, since Yukine wasn't admitted through the regular process, she had no way of asking for updates on his status.

Tired, alone, and scared beyond her wits, she waited through the night slumped in the plastic seat. Yukine was shot, I am a coward, and I have no idea what's happening.

She remembered another thing. Yukine was shot, I am a coward, Yato is gone, and I have no idea what's happening.

And then, as if on cue, the waiting room doors opened, a faint trace of dawn light illuminating a man's panting form. His eyes scanned the scarce crowd, landing on her.

Hiyori's head cleared of fatigue and a hurricane of emotions swarmed into its place.

He had been lying to them. He was lying, feeding them half-truths and lulling them into false sense of security, and now Yukine was hurt.

With every step he took to approach her, the realization boomed achingly inside her head.

Instead of taking the plastic seat next to her, he claimed the one connected by its back to hers. He said nothing. She couldn't see his face anymore, but she knew he was still on the verge of tears, a picture of regret. Nothing like the terrifying mask of fury from when he demanded who was it that hurt Yukine.

Tonight he helped them, too.

Yato risked his own life for them.

Just as Yukine did.

"I jumped- not him- they tried to-"

She buried her nails into the exposed skin of her arm. She wished she didn't lose her coat, even if she was aware that this particular sort of chill wouldn't be dispatched by more clothing.

Yato cleared his throat.

She braced herself.

"How… how is he?"

Hiyori let out a breath. "I don't know. Nobody is telling me anything."

"Do you think..." His already faint voice dissolved.

"No. I would hear about that. My friend wouldn't let me… she'd tell me if..."

She felt him moving in his seat. "Thank you. And to your friend. I'm guessing it was complicated for you to do it, with you being here secretly and all, and I want you to know I truly appreciate-"

"Of course. Oh, god, of course." His rushing words crumpled the last strands of her control and she spun around to face his doubled-over form. "Yato, I would do anything for him, and I know you would too. What you went to do the night of the party - what you did tonight - proves that. Even if you feel like I wouldn't believe it considering everything else that happened, I can't oppose that."

His hands gripped his head even tighter. "... Thank you."

"You don't think so."

He didn't move.

"You are still convinced it was all your fault."

He tried to shake his head.

Hiyori bit her lip. "Well, it kind of is. You and your antics were the reason Yukine and I were at that… den… tonight. I do not feel good about that, but I can assure you: you weren't what got him wounded. He chose it himself. He told me. So, while you should carefully reconsider your life choices, taking full blame instead of Yukine's loyalty and selflessness would be headlessly noble, and thus utterly unbefitting of you."

He wiped his nose on his wrist. She noticed it was still dirty with the contents of that sand pit.

Her pulse drummed again, and she might have gotten mad again if the doors to the private part of the hospital didn't burst open.

She jumped to her feet, Yato mimicking her. But it wasn't one of the hospital staff marching towards them.

"Warner-san? What is-" She yelped, surprised when the man grabbed her hand.

There was madness in his eyes. His blonde hair was dishevelled, his shirt done up one button off. He barely moved his lips as he hissed, "What the fuck were you idiots thinking? Where did you even get an idea to- to take him- to take my son-"

Hiyori snapped free of his hold on her, stumbling back into Yato, who was halfway over the seats already. "I am sorry, Warner-san. I cannot apologize enough for-"

"Oh, don't give me that shit!" He jabbed his finger at Yato. "You knew all too well what you were getting us into! It was your plan all along, wasn't it- In plain sight-"

"Please, sir! You're disturbing other patients!"

Warner-san hurriedly apologized to the spooked nurse, smoothing his hair back. He shot Yato another dirty look before speeding off in the direction of the exit.

"I didn't even notice him coming in," Hiyori whispered. "Seems like Yukine told him."

Yato hummed. "I wonder."

Yukine was shot, I am a coward, Yato was gone but came back, Yukine's father knows everything, and I have no idea what's happening.

"Uh, excuse me? Are you Iki-san?"

Hiyori turned to the nurse, who was still waiting nearby. "I am. Why?"

"I have been sent for you. Your friend is awake."

Hiyori's hands flew to her mouth. Yato stumbled the rest of the way over the chair. "Can we- can we-"

The nurse eyed Yato but didn't comment. "Follow me, please."

Hiyori couldn't register a single thing about the hallway they were led down except the time it took them to reach the small, unmarked doors. But as her gaze fell to the blonde boy laid down in the heap of sheets, his upper body wrapped in layers of bandages, the emotions returned in full force, relief forcing tears to her eyes.

"Yukine-kun!" She sobbed, collapsing on her knees next to his bed. "How do you feel, Yukine-kun?"

"Hiyori… You…. still here?"

"I haven't moved, Yukine-kun. I've been waiting for news. You sound weak- How are you feeling?"

His pale lips twisted into a small grin. "Yeah… You look like… shit..."

Hiyori laughed, liberation hoisting her into the air as well as any wings. "I'm sorry. Nobody'd let me know you were already done."

"He just woke up, actually!" The nurse chimed in, smiling. "The intern who admitted him instructed me to go get you as soon as he does, so you'd be the first to know! Well, I'll leave you to it. Call for me if you need anything."

As the clicks of her heels faded down the hall, Hiyori turned to Yukine. "We saw your father in the waiting room, though…"

He huffed. "What? Why... did you contact him?"

"I didn't! You heard it- I had a friend take us in off record. I don't know how could he have found out."

"Hmmm… Where are we?"

Hiyori recited the address.

"Figures." He nodded. "The owner is one of his bosses... People know him around here."

Hiyori's mouth fell open. "So your father is a doctor?"

"Yeah... but he is currently working as a director replacement."

She shook her head. "My parents own a hospital. Father is a doctor, too. Small world."

Yukine cocked his head. "Huh. I hope... they don't know each other." Hiyori recalled the highly uncomfortable dress party they'd all attended a few months back, but without missing a beat, he focused on Yato, who was still standing on the other side of the doorway. "You… you came."

Yato straightened up, as if snapping out of a trance. "Uh..."

"What, you think bullet wounds are contagious?"

Yato's face crumpled. "Yukine… I..."

"Stop that shit and just explain what happened. I hope you don't expect me to just peacefully regret ending up in a hospital for you."

Hiyori stared at the boy. He looked so… cogent, even when connected to a number of tubes, even when there were still traces of drug side effects visible in his honey-colored eyes. So much more confident than she herself felt about Yato. So trusting, when her faith was quaking.

A spark of pride warmed her.

Yato's train of thought seemed similar to hers as he gaped at Yukine. "You would be willing to listen? Even after what you saw?"

Yukine motioned as if he would shrug if he didn't have a raw wound in his shoulder. "As Hiyori said all that time ago, I don't really believe you are a bad guy. If I did, you'd have a bullet stuck in your spine right now."

Hiyori nodded in agreement. If sarcastic, moody Yukine-kun believed giving their friend a chance to explain himself was worth it, she believed it to be a good call.

Yato's lip wobbled. He slowly crept into the room and closed the door,

The first thing he did when he'd arrived was not to try and justify himself. He honestly came wanting to know if the boy would be okay.

And somehow, Hiyori thought as he began his story, that made everything fall into perspective more than anything.

IIIIIIIIIII

"You don't want the therapy? Oh, too bad."

Yukine blinked in confusion at Suzuha, who was curled up atop the blanket Yato brought in during his first week at the hospital. "Too bad? It is kind of badass, don't you think?"

"Well, sure, if you're into the entire tough guy act. But you, the Golden Boy of Hafuri studio, walking around with a gunshot scar? I ain't buying it."

"Shut up." Yukine felt his ears grow warmer as he slid down the headboard. One day, he'd be able to tell Suzuha why he'd refused his kind offer to use his family's (usually expensive) herbal scar treatments. For now, Yukine was only silently glad to finally bear one mark which held only pride over earning it.

It could have been worse, but it wasn't.

He chucked a flower blossom from the bouquet on the nightstand at the other boy's head.

"Hey! That's no way to treat flowers!" Suzuha carefully nested the petals back into shape. "I worked hard on growing and picking the prettiest flowers just for your sickbed! They deserve better!"

"You'd sell me off to a demon for a lifetime Garden of the Year award."

"I would as long as you keep being this dramatic, drama queen."

"Now, Suzuha, cut the poor boy some slack," a new voice interrupted.

The boys whirled towards the door. Yukine's heart dropped into his stomach.

"Auntie!" Suzuha jumped off the bed and ran to the tall, blonde woman standing in the doorway. "Nice to see you dropping by! Do you need some help with… these... "

Bishamon chuckled at his hardly subtle admiration of a gift basket in her hands. Boxes of chocolates and packages of candy, all decorated with bright purple crepe paper. She let him take it from her. "You could go and offer some to Yukine's nurse. She looked quite envious."

"Yeeah, Yama-chan is a glutton. If I give her some now, she'll remember it forever and never leave me alon-"

"Still, I think it would be nice to let her know her hard work is appreciated. You're not going to force Yukine-kun to do it, right?"

Suzuha straightened and nodded. He was out of the room in a moment, the gift basket disappearing with him.

Bishamon's smile didn't fade as she turned her attention to Yukine.

Yukine gulped.

She tapped the elegant cane in her hand against the stool next to the door. "May I sit?"

He tried to speak, but hiccuped. Embarrassed, he opted for nodding.

He felt ridiculous, even though he knew his anxiety was justified. Days ago, the night he got shot, Hiyori warned him and Yato about Bishamon's borderline obsessive interest in Yato's case. They all agreed it was only a matter of time until she decided to act upon the newest lead: Yukine's mysterious hospital stay.

Yukine thought he'd been prepared for the inevitable one-on-one.

Maybe if she yelled at him, or threatened him. He could have dealt with that. He knew how to put on a stubborn face, how to curse and blame and swerve away from the topic. But he wasn't ready for the warm, gently curious, and overall friendly lady who was now gazing at him across the room.

Hell, he didn't know the dragon woman was even capable of looking this warm, gently curious, or friendly.

"Are you feeling better, Yukine-kun? You've been absent from the club for quite some time..."

"Ah!" He nodded again. He could begin with the truth. "I've been good for around ten days now, but my parents insisted to leave me under observation just in case." Yato used the phrase keeping out of one's ass hair until the dust settles, and Yukine couldn't have agreed more.

Bishamon's smile turned relieved, and it didn't feel forced. "Great! I take it we'll be seeing you back in the garden soon, then?"

"As long as November lets us stay, ma'am."

She nodded. He nodded. She didn't say anything.

In the end, he figured it would be preferable if he approached the theme himself. "It was a pretty nasty wound, though. The doctors said it was rare for a random gunshot to make such damage, and that they hope my parents never let me out past curfew again unless they plan on letting me stroll into another gang showdown with a clear conscience." He chuckled, adding a "As if that idiot could ever catch me leaving if I wished to go for a walk!" for a good measure. He knew he'd been known far and wide for his grumbling over Yato, bonus points for acting like a cocky teenager.

Bishamon frowned. "That's no good, Yukine-kun. After such a misadventure, you should know better than to act so recklessly." Bingo.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Although, I cannot say I disagree with you disobeying that brat."

There it was, the note of disgust that always accompanied her up until now. It eased his pulse a bit. "Excuse me?"

She leaned forward, the long curtains of hair framing her pale face. She too was nervous. "I am going to be honest with you, Yukine-kun. I don't think that man knows what's best for you, and I have to express my concerns regarding your stay with him."

Unbingo.

"Are you implying that..."

"No matter the circumstances surrounding your situation, I would be more than willing to find you a more suitable residence for the time being. You are not the first lost child I've met, you know. I've seen dozens, coming and going, and I did my best to help each and every one of them, each in their own way. There's no need to stoop so low to get help."

There was a kindling of pity in that gaze, setting him on edge. He'd learned to shut down under such a gaze, to lie his way out and hope it worked. It was a biking accident. Some crazy guy tried to mug me. I fell down the stairs.

But there was no need to feel that way now, he reminded himself. This time, the kindling was wrong. This time, he was fine, truly fine.

Yato gave him so much, without ever asking anything in return. Even after he'd told him his story, he didn't ask him to lie for him. It was something Hiyori and Yukine decided for themselves, to give Yato time until he straightened up his business. A proof of friendship.

And a signed guarantee he'd go through with it.

"You've got it wrong, Bishamon-sama," he worded carefully. "I'm very grateful for your good intentions, but I'm happy as it is now. Yato and I… we are making it work, somehow. And I would prefer it if it didn't change for the time being."

Bishamon's nostrils flared, although it wasn't in anger. She simply seemed confused. She opened her mouth again, but at that moment a basket crashed into her lap.

"See what I told you? She took everything!" Suzuha huffed a breath, then glanced from the woman to Yukine and back. "You okay? Auntie, he really is better than a hospitalized man should be. He isn't lying, so don't you worry. But I am not. The candy is gone."

Bishamon was smiling again, ruffling the boy's hair. "Well, then I'd better go get some more, hm? I suppose you'll both be dipping into the chocolate stash."

Suzuha whooped approvingly and threw himself back onto the covers as the woman waved goodbye and left Yukine with a lingering glance.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Hiyori blew the stray hairs out of her face. Focus, she reminded herself. She wasn't planning on topping off this perfect day with a drop out of the window.

Off the facade of the window? Technically, she wasn't inside. So falling out of anything would be weird, wouldn't it?

All of a sudden, the window flew open, missing her forehead by a centimeter.

"Is that you, H- Hiyori! What! Are you doing?"

It didn't really occur to her sneaking in could have been a good prank opportunity. The expression Yato wore as he stared at her leaned over the window sill hit her as funny. She laughed.

"Sorry. Heh. May I come in?"

"Sure? Daikoku and Kofuku are downstairs with the kids." He stood by as she swung her legs inside, thankful for the change in temperature. This other coat was far more comfortable back in September. "They won't come up for at least an hour. Although I think it's time Kofuku started thinking about maternity, all that jumping cannot be too good for the poor kid, he might emerge with a bump crown-"

"I know. That's why I didn't go through the door. And stop talking, please." She sat down next to his futon and an open magazine, which she flipped through. "Maybe we are kind of awkward right now, but I honestly believe what I've got to tell you can fix that. Sort of."

Yato crossed his arms, eyeing her suspiciously. "Are you… Hiyori are you feeling okay?"

"Not really, but I'll get to that in a second. Now-"

"I mean, you're very... talkative, I suppose."

"Oh." She squinted at the ceiling, a bit annoyed. "Must be the beer."

"The-" he coughed, dropping into a crouch. "The beer? Are you a teen rebel of a sudden?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I am neither teen, nor a rebel. My birthday passed months ago. I'm sad, not stupid."

"You want to say- Hold on, this is a bit much." He waved, betrayal in his face. "You mean to say you didn't tell us?"

"I forgot."

"You don't forget such things! Oh, Kofuku will be livid- she's been depressed about not being able to attend your first girls' night out for weeks!"

"Well, I didn't have one. So. She has nothing to be sad about." Yama-chan was younger than her, and she made Hiyori and Ami-chan promise they'd wait for her so they could celebrate the occasion together.

Not that Hiyori ever truly considered such an endeavor especially alluring anyway.

"Well, obviously. Because then you'd know drinking alone is a loser's move." Yato jumped to his feet, suddenly energetic, and ran to the fridge. "You feeling okay with another one? To do it right at least part of the way, ma'am?"

Not that Hiyori ever truly considered running to Yato for such an endeavor especially alluring. But for the first time in a while there was nothing pressing into his smile. His expression was clear and gleeful, free of the guilt he seemed to bear like second skin lately.

And in any case, beer was much more pleasant to the tongue than she'd expected.

She shrugged. "Sure. Gimme one."

He whooped, cannonballing a can at her.

"Effortless reflexes, just as I taught you! And now, we can begin a new class, too: Yato-sama's Drinking Directions!"

"I'd rather avoid passing out in the bathroom in a pool of tears, thank you."

"Mean." Yato dropped onto the floor next to her, single-handedly cracking his own can open. "Now. What did you want to talk about?"

Oh. Right.

Well, there was no nice way to say it.

"My father and brother know about us. They are pretty intent on killing you."

Yato let out a snorting sound and dissolved into a fit of coughs. He didn't give up on speaking, though, but she could pick out little aside from some choice profanities and "what"s.

"Well, not Father. But Masaomi is maaad."

"What..." He wheezed, palming at the tears in his eyes. "What did you tell them?"

"I didn't tell them anything." She sipped on her drink, focused on a folded corner of the unkept magazine at her feet. She didn't feel like crying again, so she needed to set her mind to other things. "Father said that he would tell Mother if I didn't pick up the phone, so I suppose neither did she. And that brings us to the question: Where did they hear it?"

"A-aren't you upset about it, Hiyori?"

"What? No. I wanted to know who told them, so I called around. Yama-chan didn't. Yukine-kun didn't. He was pretty confused. Kazuma-san doesn't know anything about it, either. And then I'd have hit a dead end, since the inside circle isn't that big. But then my phone rang, and you'd never guess who it was."

Yato shook his head, one hand still pressed against his throat.

She took another sip. "Your dad."

The sound of the can hitting the floorboards ringed through the air.

"No."

She could very well hear the Not again in his voice.

"Yato, calm down."

"Hiyori." His fingers dug into the cracks between the boards. "No."

"I know. I was terrified, too."

The cold, precise voice calling a sound of gunshot into her ears. It was me, little ayakashi.

How? she'd asked.

Magic, he'd replied. I'm special that way.

"We need to- we need to hide you, Hiyori. If he found your parents, he knows everything already. We have no time to-"

"Yato. Listen to me."

He stilled, halfway ducking under the pressure of her nails on his shoulders.

"We knew this was coming. The moment you told me the truth, we'd all realized it was only a matter of time. And do you remember what Yukine said?"

Yato kept his eyes on her knuckles. Scarred. Dotted with beverage spray.

"I'm in over my head already. We know this. We cannot fix it anymore."

"I'm just..." He took a deep breath, and shudder passed through his bones. "I don't want it to be like that."

"I know. But we have a head start now, don't we? We know what he's capable of, and-"

"And what?"

"And we'll- Oh, Yato." She eased her hold, smoothing out wrinkles in his T-shirt sleeves instead. "We will get through this. That man has enjoyed a life of abuse and neglect and ruining children's lives. Don't think for a second he'll get away with it. You know what happened to Yukine's father. And it was only us, you and me and Yukine and your heart. And I know you- you've tried to stop him before, by telling Kazuma-san-" His gaze hardened. "-but this time will be different. You are no longer a lonely eighteen-year-old. You are stronger now. You have people who support you and believe in you."

"... You're right."

"I am!"

"What happened to that son of a bitch, Warner..." Now, Yato was gazing over her shoulder, absent-mindedly shrugging her hands away. A new sort of warmth emitted from him.

"What are you thinking?"

"It's- too early. But gimme a moment, just to collect- yes. Okay." He clapped, turning towards the fridge again. "Let's refill. I think imma need some juice to work this out."

Hiyori followed the two spilled cans rolling down the floor. What a waste.

But Yato was feeling better, and he was willing to fight for the first time since she'd met him, and her message got across.

Well, most of it, anyways.

Sometime after the sounds of giggles and yelling subdued from the dojo downstairs, she finally decided to drive her confession fully home.

"To be honest… Losing their trust is the worst part, and I am very sad about it."

Yato glanced up. "Your family?"

She nodded, setting herself lower on the windowsill. "All my life, we had a great relationship. I never lied. I was a good daughter, I think. And my brother joked all the time about protecting me and not ever letting me out of his sight, but in truth he trusted me a lot. Always let me find my own way. And… I don't wanna lose that." The long repressed tears finally muscled their way to the surface. "Uuh… Sorry." And I've worked so hard. She couldn't find it inside herself to wipe them away.

She felt a flutter of touch on her dangling ankle. Then, a full, gentle grip.

"I don't think yer gonna lose that with- a single fight, Hiyori."

"How would you know?"

"Y'still aren't givin' up on me. After all my fuck-ups. So, if the Ikis are anythin' like you… You'll get through it. You just gotta call."

"I'm scared."

"I know."

"I cannot call them yet. It is not safe to contact them now."

"I know. But ya will. You'll see."

And then, with the moonlight illuminating the silent room, the two-and-a-half portions of beer warming her belly and fresh tears chilling her cheeks, she found the feeling of fingers playing along her ankle unbearably pleasant.

"Yato?"

"Hm?"

"I should be courageous, shouldn't I?"

"Y'always are."

"Then..." She dropped a hand to his fingers.

He stilled.

Waited a brath. Two.

"Hiyori…?"

"I'm asking… I guess I'm asking if..." She didn't trust him to catch her meaning from the gesture alone. Hell, she wasn't sure she herself understood completely. It was new, and weird, and not at all what she'd imagined - now, she could finally accept she did like to imagine it quite a bit. "I do not know what am I supposed to do with all the things I've been feeling when we're together like this, but if you'd be willing to help me figure it out… I'd be glad."

He stayed silent for so long she'd be scared if she wasn't being courageous.

"... Holy fuck. Am I- Is this a dream?"

She laughed. "You drank double the dose I did, so trust me when I tell you it is not."

"Yer a lightweight, so."

"It is not so."

"Aren't ya scared?"

And that was an answer in itself.

Won't you run? he'd asked.

I want to, she'd replied and cut the line. Then, she went to the store for some beer.

"We'll get through it, but we need to do as Yukine says. We have to keep together. We have to trust each other. And that's why I'm here now. That's why I'm talking about it all. To be courageous."

"I wanna do it, too." He nodded again. "I wish could soak up some of that courage."

"You can." She flicked her nose. "Well. Not Literally. But figuratively speaking. You know."

"..."

"What are you thinking?"

"... Oh, nothin'. Ya should drink more often. Yer talk is still impec- per- very good but also more mean and true."

"Shut up. Please."

She drifted to sleep still thinking of the burning fingertips.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"Quite early for such nutrition choices, is it not?"

Viina jumped, the glass slamming against the table surface. Recognizing him, she hurriedly rubbed at the collision spot. "Please, Kazuma. It's nine PM."

Kazuma leaned against her chair. "And you have a nine-thirty class tonight."

"... Oh, dammit."

He set the stack of papers he was carrying next to the bottle. "I took care of it."

"I know you did, but I cannot- it is unbefitting of me to- I cannot believe it."

He glanced down at her crumpled form. If sitting around in a dark office clouded with the stench of alcohol wasn't an indicator by itself, the unexpected tardiness proved what he'd been dreading for weeks now.

"And this is supposed to be the part where you try to convince me to trust that annoyance to be my substitute." She leaned against the headrest, her attention on his face. "So, I'm listening."

Kazuma reached for a strand of hair soaking in the dark liquid. "Would I be wrong to assume mentioning Yato is the last thing you want me to do right now?"

"No," she hiccuped unhappily, "but I need to talk about it anyway so… whatever, really."

"All right. But I am getting you some water first."

She didn't protest, but when he returned, he found another glass filled to the middle on his own desk. He left the water pitcher next to it, but didn't sit. He didn't deserve to rest.

"It used to be so, so simple, you know. There was a goal, straight ahead of me. I was so sure, so confident I would see the day of justice arrive, and nothing could have convinced me otherwise. It wasn't even an upbeat sort of encouragement. I've raged. I've cried. I've imagined peeling the skin off of that unknown villain again, and again, and again. But the knowledge that Tama-chan might rest in peace once I've fulfilled my duty was always there, just out of my reach. It felt comforting just to know it was there. Because he was there, and I knew he held the key." Viina took another gulp, this time not even bothering with the glass. The bottle shattered the streetlight into green caleidoscope flecks across her fair skin. Her voice was rough when she continued. "But now? I cannot even bring myself to think it anymore. I should know how to spot a deadlock. I've created a career on it."

Kazuma didn't dwell on his speeding heartbeat. Sliding his glasses up his nose, he asked: "What happened?"

She let out a weak sound. Horrified, he identified it as a sob. "The boy happened. I talked to Yukine-kun tonight. You know I've never wanted anything but to help all the children stumbling upon my doorstep. You keep reminding me how our budget suffers because of it every month, after all. But this time, this time I'm starting to think I'm… What if I'm wrong?"

"You mean..."

"The boy loves him." She threw her arms up in the air, the empty glass rolling across the wood. "It's clear once you look deeper. All this time I thought it was only a matter of time until he would give up, realise he deserved better than a tiny, stuffy attic and a man with more secrets than wits. But even Yato, the bastard, gave the boy something to fight for, something I could have never given him. I have been blessed with such convenience and resources, but what use do I have of them when it comes down to it?"

"Is that what's bothering you?" Kazuma ran his finger along the thin rim of his glass. "Not understanding what is it the two share? Because I can tell you, it is not something you yourself are unable to give."

"It is. It truly is. But I'm not upset about that- I'm bothered because- Because Yato of all people-"

"Because Yato has been the bulletin board culprit for so long you aren't sure what to do now that he's closer to your own ideas of decency than you'd think?"

Viina growled. "Shit. Shit. Shit."

Despite himself, Kazuma smiled lightly. "It's not something to be ashamed of, Viina."

"The demon is better than me. How should I not be ashamed." Oh, she certainly was drunk.

"He isn't. You are both good at your respective, very different jobs."

"I suppose it's time to… take care of the board, then."

Once upon a time, the suggestion would have been the booming conclusion of his wildest dreams.

"You were right. I am holding onto the ghosts of the past. But why does it… Why does it feel like I'm betraying Tama-chan, then? Why does it…" The tears weren't falling now. They haven't for years now. "Oh, Kazuma. What am I doing?"

Kazuma moved behind her seat again, his hands clasped behind his back. He refused to let the tremors seize them. "I'm afraid I cannot answer that for you, Viina."

She leaned her head against his elbow. There was no tranquility in his stillness. "You always have. You were always there to show me the way. I haven't trusted you enough when it came to this subject, and you did nothing to deserve such treatment. So I'm asking you now: what am I supposed to do?"

If I told you the truth right now, or what I am assuming is the truth, you would never trust me again.

So for once he remained mute, an anchor in the raging ocean of streetlamps.