Aofery: Well, then, luckily for you, I'm all about angst even when I dabble in cuteness XD My favorite charries always suffer disproportionately X) They are too cute, aren't they? I love writing them. And thanks, ha ha :)

Sin: Normal people: "Oh, they're so cute and I love them, let's write fluffy things and give them a happy ending because they deserve to be happy." Me: "Oh, they're so cute and I love them, let's look for any buried trauma and exploit it for all it's worth, and if I'm in a good mood then maybe they'll get some fluffy hurt/comfort and a cute ending instead of the totally tragic angst fest I'm itching to write." I swear I'm not a sadist :X Anyway, I feel like poor Yato is entitled to have problems after the shit he's had to put up with for centuries lol And the father-son connection between Yato and Yukine compared to what we know of both their fathers is just the cutest and most poignant thing to me. Ha ha, don't worry. I'm sure your first thought wasn't "aliens", so you're still a step ahead of Yato XD And they're just so adorable, ha ha. Thanks :)

Part 2

A long, long, long time ago this had been the site of one of Father's safe houses where he had kept Yato and Hiiro between jobs—a happy family home—but modernization had long since swept across the area. What had once been one of Yato's childhood prisons was now the underside of an overpass. He occasionally wound up here again from time to time when he was feeling particularly unhappy, and had even set up camp once or twice during his periods of rebellion when he had nowhere in particular to go and no one in particular to care.

He scrunched himself up against the concrete wall in the rubble of his childhood and buried his face in his knees. Why did it hurt so much? Why couldn't he ever do anything right?

Maybe it was like Father had always said: Yato was a magatsukami, a god of calamity, and all he ever brought anyone was death and destruction and misfortune and pain. It was what he had been born for, created to do, and it seemed like he could never outrun it no matter how hard he tried to change.

He had wanted so badly to escape his father and be someone else. Someone better. He didn't want to hurt Yukine like Father had hurt him, didn't want Yukine to look at him and see Father.

Yato hugged his knees tighter, his breath hitching as tears seeped through his pants to the skin beneath. For a brief moment, he idly wondered when he had last cried. Really, truly cried. He thought he had stopped that a long, long time ago, when he had learned that tears changed nothing and only amused Father and it was easier to push everything down and not feel too much at all.

But it hurt.

He knew he messed up a lot of things. When it came to everyone, but especially with Yukine. He annoyed Yukine and sometimes swiped money and teased a lot and pulled dumb pranks and could be kind of lazy and childish and self-absorbed and insensitive sometimes. But he hadn't realized…

He knew that what he did to Yukine wasn't nearly as bad as what Father did to him, but he hadn't realized that it was starting to approach the point where there was enough overlap for Yukine to start seeing them in a similar light. Why hadn't he noticed how bad things were getting?

He had always tried to make up for his shortcomings however he could: praising Yukine when he did a good job and bragging about him and making sure to give him affection and being careful not to let any of Father's manipulative tactics seep through. Yato had always been starved for genuine affection and had done so much—so much wrong—in his desperation to win approval from his father. Maybe he sometimes smothered Yukine in too much affection because he was overcompensating, but he just wanted to make sure the kid got what he'd never had and didn't feel like he had to earn love.

So maybe he had messed up, but he had tried. He had had good intentions. Even when he had no idea what he was doing or how he could best support Yukine, he had done his best to cobble together some kind of family that might just make the kid happy or at least make him feel like he had a place to belong.

Why didn't it count? Why was he such a screw-up? Why did he always end up hurting everyone? Why couldn't he do just one thing right?

He had just wanted…

He had just wanted to make his kid happy.

Yato jerked his head up so fast that it slammed back into the concrete, and he hissed out a strangled curse and clutched at his throbbing skull.

Gosh, he was an idiot.

His kid.

He had practically adopted Yukine. It had been a rocky relationship at first, but he had started feeling that protective sort of familial ownership after the ablution and really admitted to himself and the world that Yukine was no longer just some kid but his kid after the shinki had admitted to feeling a similar sense of kinship by becoming his hafuri. He had been calling Yukine his kid ever since, and he meant it.

If he treated the shinki like his kid, why hadn't it occurred to him that Yukine might eventually start seeing him as some kind of father figure, or at least some sort of guardian? Not all fathers were like Yato's, even if the entire breed was tainted in his eyes because of his own experiences. Underneath all of Yukine's gruffness and brattiness, he was still a sweet, innocent kid. It would never occur to him to compare Yato to his father, even if that might be Yato's gut reaction. He wasn't being weird because he was upset or scared or thought he had to act a certain way to keep Yato appeased—he was genuinely trying to do something nice.

And Yato had completely freaked out.

He groaned and dropped his face into his hands. His chest was tight and aching, and it wasn't only from his own pain; Yukine was upset too now.

He had totally misread that. And he had definitely screwed up, just not in the way he had first thought. It should have occurred to him that fathers meant something very different to most people. It had just so completely blindsided him that his brain hadn't had time to catch up before completely melting down.

He really did see Yukine as his kid—he did—but he had never considered himself anything like a father even when he dabbled in filling the role. He didn't want to. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with anything at all related to fathers, in the same way that he preferred to keep some distance between himself and anything that was too much like Father. He didn't want to feel like he was in even a remotely similar position, and thinking of himself as Yukine's parent was frightening because it put him in a position where he could become another Father if he screwed up. That was something he didn't want to do to anyone, and especially not to Yukine.

Maybe that was stupid. He was just as fiercely protective either way, would love the kid the same, would fill the same role. But he had never given that label to himself because it made him sick to share anything with Father, even something that simple.

But maybe that was selfish. It was one thing to let Father break him down and turn him into a cynical, paranoid wreck, but it was quite another to let that trauma affect Yukine too. Yato wasn't on his own anymore, unattached with no one to care about and no one to care about him. He had a responsibility to Yukine, and he couldn't let his own insecurities and trauma impact his kid's well-being.

"I'm not like you," he whispered to the empty air, swiping his sleeve across his eyes and then staring down at his hands as they hovered there in the air, palms up and trembling ever so slightly. "And I'm not going to let you wreck my relationship with my kid."

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the concrete as he took some deep, cleansing breaths and waited for the knot in his chest to ease. He needed to go set things right, but only once he was sure he was calm enough to do it without having another meltdown.

Pull yourself together, bakagami.

A series of sharp, needling little pains continued to echo in his chest after he had finally coaxed most of the tension back out of his body. Yukine. The breath escaped Yato's lips in a sigh. How long had it been now? An hour, maybe? Long past time to do some damage control.

He pulled himself to his feet, wincing at the protesting bruises the stairs had inflicted on him and the dull throbbing of his head, and set his mouth in a determined line. He stepped forward, and the ground blurred beneath his foot as it melted into the sidewalk in front of Kofuku's shrine.

Kofuku and Daikoku appeared from the kitchen the second Yato opened the door.

"Are you alright, Yato-chan?" Kofuku asked. "Your eyes are all red."

Yato smiled wanly. "Fine. Is Yukine here?"

"He and Hiyorin are upstairs."

"The kid means well," Daikoku said quietly.

Yato closed his eyes. "I know. He just…caught me by surprise. I'll…fix it. Hopefully."

"Good luck, Yato-chan."

Daikoku sighed and shook his head. "Don't be too hard on yourself."

Yato waved his hand in acknowledgment and started up the stairs. The door at the top was cracked open and quiet voices drifted down.

"Are you sure it's a good idea?" Yukine was asking. "What if it just freaks him out more?"

"I'm sure you'll both feel better when you clear up the misunderstanding," Hiyori said. "Just be honest about how you feel, and I'm sure he'll get it."

Yato pushed the door open, slipped inside, and closed it quietly behind him, to find that Yukine and Hiyori had dragged the table out to the middle of the floor and were sitting across from each other.

Hiyori spotted Yato first. "Yato!" She bit her lip, and her eyes were filled with concern. "Are you okay?"

Yukine startled and whipped around, going pale when he noticed the god. He snatched a piece of paper off the table and shoved it underneath. "I…"

Yato hesitated, shifting awkwardly and fighting not to curl into himself and hunch his shoulders, but then drifted over to sit down at the side of the table between his friends. He folded his hands in his lap to forestall their restless fidgeting and stared down at the tabletop.

"I'm sorry for freaking out on you," he said, clearing his throat. "You just…caught me off guard. I shouldn't have… I know you were just trying to make a nice gesture, and I'm sorry for ruining it. I'm not upset with you. It's just…"

"Your father," Yukine mumbled. Yato snuck a sidelong look at him to see that he had hunched over and was twisting his hands together absently. "I didn't even… I never considered that. I–"

"And you were right not to. It's not something you should be worrying about, and you had no reason to make that connection." Yato sighed and bowed his head as he pressed his fingers to his forehead. His head ached something terrible, and this wasn't helping. "That's my problem, not yours. It has nothing to do with you or my relationship with you."

"But–"

"Just–just listen for a second. It blindsided me so badly because I've never once considered myself any kind of father to you. And that's not because… It's because being a father means something entirely different to me than it means to you, not because I don't think you're my kid. Because I do. I know I say it so much that it starts sounding silly, but I mean it. I'm trying to build a family with you.

"The kind of father you need, the one you deserve…" Yato pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, which felt achy and swollen in a way they hadn't in centuries. "I don't know how to be that, and maybe I'm too afraid of becoming my father to try. But… I appreciate what you were trying to accomplish today. I don't want you to think that I freaked out because you misunderstood something about my intentions. You're my kid, and that hasn't changed whatever I do or don't think of myself as. Whatever label you want to put on it—on me—is okay. I'm…okay with that. It just might take some getting used to, that's all.

"Whatever I have or haven't considered myself as, I…still love you just as much. It's not because you don't have a right to think of me as a–a father or guardian or whatever. It's not something wrong with you—it's a problem on my end. But I want to… I want to be that for you. What a normal father is supposed to be. I'm really…really honored that you think that. It just scares me a little bit because I don't want to be in a position to hurt you the way he hurt me. I… I freaked out because I was afraid I was hurting you, not because I don't want to be your family. I don't want you to think …"

Yato trailed off and his shoulders slumped. He was rambling and not making sense and he wasn't sure how to get his point across. It was a tangled mess, and he was no good at articulating his thoughts at the best of times. He hoped he wasn't just making it worse.

Yukine sucked in a ragged breath. "Bakagami," he rasped.

Despite the severity of the situation, one corner of Yato's mouth twitched upwards. "Ahhh, there it is. I was starting to worry when you hadn't called me an idiot all day."

Yukine's fingers tightened into white-knuckled fists in his lap, and his mop of blond hair shielded his expression as he stared down at the table. "If you think you're anything like your dad, you're an idiot. Here." He pulled the paper out from where he'd hidden it beneath the table, folded it in half, and shoved it roughly at the god without looking at him. Yato took it automatically. "I told Daikoku I'd help with dinner."

He stood up abruptly and strode quickly across the room, pulling the door shut behind him with a loud thud as he stormed out and down the stairs.

Yato winced. "I really messed that up."

"He's just worried about you," Hiyori said quietly. She sniffed and scrubbed the back of her hand across her eyes.

"Thanks for staying with him," Yato said.

"Of course. Just…" She scooted around the corner of the table, hesitated, and then slipped her hand into Yato's free hand and squeezed it gently. "I don't think you're like your father, and neither does Yukine. It's horrible what he did to you and how he treats you, but you've never once done anything like that to Yukine…or any of the rest of us. You shouldn't be shouldering his sins like they're your own. You aren't responsible for him. You're your own person, and a much better one than him at that."

Yato swallowed hard. He wanted to believe that. He did have plenty of sins of his own, whether or not gods were supposed to sin at all, and they mostly stemmed from Father. In a way, they did share many of their wrongdoings. But Yato didn't want to be like that anymore. He did want to be his own person. And most of all, he wanted Hiyori and Yukine to see him as someone better than that.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "I'm working on it. Thanks."

Hiyori sighed and stood. "I should really go. My dad is probably back by now."

"Yeah. Sorry we kept you. Don't worry—have a nice dinner."

"It's alright." She drifted to the door and pulled it open, but then paused in the doorway and turned back. "You might not be perfect, but you do a good job with Yukine. He really loves you, you know. You shouldn't be so hard on yourself—you always do your best by him, and it's been amazing watching you two become a family after such a rocky start. And he's a good judge of character. If he wanted to celebrate Father's Day with you, it's because you're a good dad even if you don't realize it."

She disappeared down the stairs, leaving the door cracked open a couple inches behind her. Yato wasn't sure what to make of that. The whole thing still made him uncomfortable, but he trusted Hiyori's judgment. She knew more about this stuff than he did, anyway. And he really wanted to believe that he hadn't screwed things up that badly.

He looked down at the folded page in his hand. That had Hiyori's name written all over it too. Yukine was not the kind of person to write notes, but it was something Hiyori might suggest.

The thing was clearly a ticking time bomb. Judging by Yukine's haste to escape after handing it over, it was clear he didn't want to be here when Yato read it. So it probably wasn't anything good. What if he was mad that–?

Yato shook his head sharply. No overthinking and jumping to conclusions this time. That had already gotten him into trouble today, and he would only work himself into another meltdown. No point speculating when he could just read the thing.

But he didn't want to.

He put it on the table and busied himself emptying the shopping bags of their capyper goodies and sticking his prizes around the room. He kept catching himself throwing wary looks at the unassuming bit of paper, but did his best to ignore it right up until he ran out of things to do.

It wasn't like he could put it off forever. Yukine obviously expected him to read it, and the kid would be upset if he didn't. And after the dramatic freak-out earlier, Yato probably owed him at least that much.

Yato snatched the note off the table and unfolded it gingerly as he sat down right in the middle of the floor and braced himself. The entire page was covered in messy scrawl and dozens and dozens of scratched-out bits. It looked painful. Yukine clearly hadn't had an easy time of it if all the scratch-outs and re-dos were anything to go by, which probably meant it wasn't something that would be easy to read either.

Yato took a deep breath and squinted at the messy tangle of scribbles and words.

Yato,

A few days ago, Hiyori was talking about what she wanted to do with her dad for Father's Day. Sometime during that conversation, it hit me that that was exactly the kind of thing that would have set me off a year ago, when I was still a mess and felt like I didn't have any family or friends and was bitter about everything I had lost and couldn't remember and couldn't have anymore.

But it didn't bother me the way it would have then, and I thought about it for a while and realized it was because I didn't really feel like I was missing that anymore. You and Hiyori and Kofuku and Daikoku are like my family now.

I didn't mean to upset you. I didn't even consider what your dad was like. I'm sorry. I don't think you're anything like him.

It's not really about Father's Day itself or even fathers at all, so we don't have to call it that if you don't want to. I really just wanted to do something nice to maybe show you how much I appreciate everything you've done for me. You saved me in the beginning when most gods wouldn't have, even when I was being ungrateful and hurting you. You eventually gave me your trust and let me guide you so that I felt like I had a purpose. You protect me and pester me when you feel that something's wrong and cheer me up when I'm scared or upset. And you called me your kid and worked really hard to build a family for me and gave me a place where I really felt like I belonged.

I don't say it very often because you can also be really annoying and drive me crazy and I'm not good with touchy-feely stuff, but I really appreciate all of that. So thank you.

And come to think of it, that's all pretty much the opposite of your dad, so please don't think that's what I think. You're way better than that. And if all this makes you uncomfortable because of him, you can just ignore it and not think about it that way. I like being your kid no matter what you call yourself.

I'm sorry for upsetting you, but for what it's worth, we have a good family either way and I'm really happy with you.

Love,
Yukine

Yato's fingers trembled above the two scribbled-out words Yukine had deliberated over before choosing his closing and then pressed lightly to 'love'. A droplet of water wrinkled the page and smeared the ink, but Yato tried to convince himself that he wasn't crying again for a moment longer before giving up.

Paper rustled as his fingers tightened around the page, and he hunched over the letter in his lap. It hurt, a sharp, bittersweet pang in his chest, but in a good way this time.

No one had ever told him those things before.

It was hard to believe that he deserved all that, but Yukine had a hard enough time expressing such sentiments to him at the best of times and wouldn't subject himself to such torture without a good reason.

Yato knew he screwed up a lot and had more than his fair share of flaws and might not always be the best person, but he must be doing something right. If Yukine was happy, if he felt like he had a home and a family and someone to rely on who would love him for who he was, then Yato was finally doing something right.

He huddled there on the floor, snuffling and trying to wrap his head around what Yukine was trying to tell him. It was so surreal that he wasn't sure it had entirely settled in yet, and he was a little bit afraid that it would shimmer and disappear like a mirage if he looked at it too closely.

"Didn't you hear me calling?" Yukine huffed, and the door creaked as he pushed it open the rest of the way. "Dinner is almost ready, so come–" He broke off, eyes going wide as saucers as Yato raised his head. "Y-Yato? Oh no, oh no, I messed it up again. I'm sorry." He rushed over to drop to his knees by the shivering god, but his hands hovered helplessly in the air as panic clouded his features. "Ahhh, I'm no good at this stuff. Do you have your phone? Let me call Hiyori. I'm sure she can fix–"

Yato threw his arms around Yukine and dragged him close, ignoring his startled squawk. He hugged his kid tight and rocked rhythmically as he buried his tears in Yukine's hair.

"I'm sorry," he choked out past the sob strangling his voice. "I'll be anything you need me to be. I didn't want– But if you–" He squeezed his eyes shut and shuddered under the pressure of another building sob. "Only for you."

Yukine mumbled something that was muffled and unintelligible, but Yato was crying too hard to bother asking him to repeat it. Small hands slithered around his sides and clutched the back of his jersey, and it sounded suspiciously like Yukine was sniffling.

Yato didn't know what he was supposed to say, not being any good with words at the best of times and having very little experience with the kind he would need, so he just hugged Yukine tight as if he could hold them together just like that. And Yukine didn't pull away, so maybe he could.

"They're having a bonding moment!" Kofuku said loudly. Yato's head snapped up, and he spotted her wedged in the doorway, hand cupped around her mouth as she called back down the stairs to Daikoku. "There's lots of hugging and crying and it's cuuute!"

"Kofuku!" Yato hissed as Yukine wriggled in his arms.

Kofuku grinned, eyes shining with delight. "Dinner's ready, so come down when you're done. But take your time!"

She disappeared again, footsteps thundering back down the stairs as she hopped down them two at a time. Yato shook his head and swiped his sleeve across his eyes before looking down at Yukine's upturned, considerably red face. There wasn't anything quite like an overexcited Kofuku interrupting everything to bring a crying jag to a screeching stop. Yato pulled in a cleansing breath that wavered only slightly.

"Do you want to go down?" he asked, clearing his throat when his voice sounded too thick and raspy.

Yukine sniffed and rubbed his eyes and then leaned back against Yato, dropping his head against the god's chest. "In a minute," he mumbled.

Yato swallowed and reached out to brush the hair out of his kid's face, a gesture of affection that Yukine wouldn't normally stand for. But today Yukine only pressed closer and let Yato hold him.

It was all very touching until Yato noticed the kid was still wearing a bright blue t-shirt with a giant capyper on the front.

"Are you still wearing that thing?" he asked in disbelief. He wondered how something so glaringly obvious could have escaped his attention, but he supposed more important things had been going on. "You can take it off, you know. I was just trying to bait you into insulting me."

Yukine pulled away and leaned back, and Yato let him go even though it felt cold without his warmth.

"You were what?"

Yato puffed out his cheeks in remembered exasperation. "I was being extra annoying all day, but I never managed to get a rise out of you."

Yukine shook his head slowly and pulled the offending shirt up over his head, his red-rimmed eyes shining with disbelief. "Only you would rather be insulted than have someone be nice to you."

"I thought something was wrong with you! You didn't insult me all day! It was freaky and unnatural!" Yato paused and then mumbled, "I'm glad the aliens didn't get you."

Yukine stared, goggle-eyed. "Aliens?"

"Well, something was obviously wrong."

"And your first thought was aliens?"

"Of course not!" Yato said indignantly. "At first I thought you had gotten possessed or hit your head and forgot how to sass me. And then I thought maybe you were mad at me and were trying to poison me with that super suspicious breakfast. Then I thought maybe you were just sick or something. And then I thought maybe the aliens got you."

"…I like how possession and brain trauma were somehow more believable than that I just wasn't feeling well." Yukine shook his head. "Why do you immediately jump to the worst case scenario?"

"I did not," Yato muttered.

"What's worse than brain damage and aliens?"

"…The worst case scenario would be that I screwed up something so badly that you felt like you had to change yourself and be on your best behavior to keep me satisfied."

Yukine winced. "Yato…"

"It's okay to sass me sometimes," Yato said, letting his gaze wander along the walls. "You don't have to be a perfect little angel for me to be happy, nor should you feel like you have to be anything more than yourself to 'earn' affection. I… I love you just the way you are, teenage brattiness and all. You don't need to change that. I'd rather you just be yourself."

Yukine was quiet for a few seconds before mumbling, "I guess. Although, to be fair, maybe I should try being a little nicer if your first thought when I'm nice is that I've been brainwashed by aliens."

"Okay, that was like my fifth thought. And you're nice to other people, just not to me."

"…And that makes it better how?"

Yato finally tore his gaze from its aimless wandering to search his kid's red-eyed, splotchy-cheeked face. "I don't mind. I know how to read between the lines, and you have your own ways of saying that you care. Didn't I just say that you should be yourself?"

"Yeah… Maybe we can meet in the middle."

Yato watched him for a few more seconds before mumbling, "Thanks, Yukine."

"Huh? For what?"

He dropped his gaze to the letter still clutched in his hand. "You meant it? You're…? You're happy here?"

"Of course I…" Yukine trailed off and the floorboards creaked softly beneath his feet as he stood up to take something tucked beneath the base of his lamp. He sat down next to Yato and frowned down at the drawing of them and Hiyori that the god had given him earlier. "Don't we look happy? That's why I wanted you to add yourself… We need you too. We're happier together, don't you think?"

Yato's thumb pressed against the damp spot wrinkling Yukine's letter next to 'love'. "Yeah," he whispered. He swallowed hard and tears pricked at the very corners of his eyes again. "We should… We should probably go down."

Yukine nodded and stood back up, avoiding the god's gaze. "Yeah, I'm starved."

"If… If you want…" Yato worried his lower lip with his teeth. "There will still be a few hours left of…of Father's Day after dinner, if you want to do something, just you and me."

Yukine whipped back around and his whole face lit up. "Sure!"

"Maybe… Maybe something we'd both enjoy this time."

Yukine chewed on the inside of his cheek, brow furrowing in thought, and then turned abruptly pink and began toeing at the floor awkwardly again. "You could, um, maybe teach me how to draw?"

"Sure."

"Really?" Yukine darted a glance up from beneath his lashes, and a shy, sweet kind of smile Yato wasn't used to receiving tugged at the corners of his lips. Cute. So the kid could be sweet when he took a step back from the snark.

"I don't see why not." Yato pulled himself to his feet and breezed past Yukine and out the door. "In a few centuries, I'm sure you'll be able to draw a passable stick figure."

"H-hey!"

Yato smiled to himself as he folded the letter back up and slipped it into his pocket.

This whole fatherhood thing was still new to him, and more than a little uncomfortable. It felt wrong and made him uneasy and was a lot of responsibility he wasn't confident in his ability to handle. It was a little frightening, and he didn't doubt that it would make him uncomfortable for a long time to come. It would take a while to get used to the idea, and he could already tell that it was going to be difficult.

But he would try. He would give it his best because Yukine deserved the best. Even when it was a struggle, even when it was hard and painful and he felt like he was failing miserably, he would make sure he kept going and figured it out.

There was a letter in his pocket and a smile on Yukine's face, and that was what would make it all worth it.

Note: They're too precious for words, I can't even ;_;

Aw, and Yato's already thinking like a parent even if he doesn't realize it :3 These two dorks are totally meant for each other; they're just the cutest things. They can be so sweet when they want to be, ha ha.

Oh, Kofuku. *facepalm* Let them have their moment lol (Yato being so righteously indignant about Yukine assuming his first thought was something totally overdramatic and stupid when his actual first thought [and every other thought] was not really much better is my new favorite thing. Yes, Yato, your indignation is totally justified...)

They're gonna be okay :)