Note: I've been meaning to get a little more involved around here again and get back to answering PMs and all of that, but work has kept me busy and then my sister got side-swiped by an 18-wheeler. She's fine, but everyone is shaken up and it's been a really long week. Guys, if you're driving, be really careful out on the roads. It's really scary how fast things can go wrong. Stay safe.

Part 1

Yato allows himself exactly five seconds to lay on his back on the hard, cold ground with the winter breeze slicing through his jersey like knives to shred the heart beating beneath while one lone tear works its way down his face.

"That's so…"

And then he's jumping to his feet and scrubbing at his face while he locks the memories away. It's dangerous to get lost in a shinki's memories for too long, to pry too deep and think too hard and care too much. Those are things it's too dangerous for a shinki to ever know, and it is a god's burden and secret to carry the lives and deaths and names of their shinki. It's dangerous to let anything slip, and it's too easy to be crushed beneath the weight of someone else's memories. Better to lock them away and focus on the present.

Besides, Yato still has that human girl watching and waiting. He thinks, a little uncharitably, that she has managed to find him a shinki after all, even if she tried to feed him to an ayakashi first. But Hiyori hasn't forgotten him yet and that's more than he can say about any other human, so he turns back to her.

Still, there's something about this Yukine that draws Yato back like a moth circling a flame. He tries to deny it to himself, but he knows it's because they've both had problems with their fathers. He feels a strange kinship with this tiny, naïve slip of a child.

(Although, to be fair, Yato's father probably isn't half as bad as Yukine's. He's kept Yato alive for centuries, after all. He sometimes praises Yato when he's good. He's really only so bad when Yato is misbehaving, and that's pretty much Yato's fault anyway. (Isn't that right, Yaboku?))

Yukine, it turns out, is a lousy little brat. He's angry at the world and rages against his death and hates, hates, hates. It leaves Yato off-kilter and unsteady, with a permanent headache and heartache that starts as a twinge here, a prick there, and quickly escalates to a sharp, unceasing pain like his head is going to explode and his bones are being crushed and his heart is being constricted further and further until it has to fight for every beat.

And that's before the stinging. Yukine steals and breaks things and lies and even tries to grope Hiyori in the night, and a sharp, biting burn latches its teeth into the back of Yato's neck. It chews at his life hungrily, the life he used to give Yukine his name and now binds them together, and spreads across his skin in purple storm clouds. Yukine is tearing him apart from the inside out, but Yato grits his teeth and bears it.

He really ought to just release the kid, he knows. Yukine has set a course for self-destruction, and he's hell-bent on taking Yato down with him. He's at a difficult, dangerous age. He's out of control. He's…

Really, Yato should release him. He knows what will happen if he lets the corruption take root too deep. He killed an entire clan of Bishamon's shinki to save her from that fate, didn't he? He's always held her in a bit of contempt for how she was going to let herself die even once her shinki were far beyond saving, but… But now it feels like he's doing the same thing, even though he knows better.

It's just that… He feels like he understands the kid. He understands the resentment and rebellion, the stark unfairness and injustice of it all, the feeling of having nothing and being alone. He wants to show Yukine that there's another way, that it's not as hopeless as it seems. He doesn't want to give up on Yukine, because the kid never had a chance in life and no other god is going to give him one now when he's so out of control and Yato knows there's a good kid buried underneath all that anger somewhere. He doesn't want to give up on that.

(The world already gave up on Yato. No one's going to hand him a second chance, a do-over. He wants to give Yukine the chance that no one will ever give him. (Really, Yaboku, did you honestly think you could change your name and run away and stand on your own two feet? You will always be a god of calamity and bring misfortune wherever you go, isn't that right?))

So he tries to provide the kid with some guidance. It's not like Yukine had a great father to teach him right from wrong in life, but at least he has some idea. Yato has no idea how to go about simulating such guidance, but he tries. When he feels the stings, he scolds Yukine and looks for the source. When he catches a crime in progress, he steps in to put a stop to it. When sparkly new trinkets appear out of nowhere, he confiscates them and asks where they came from.

He tries, he really does, but it seems like his efforts are undermined at every turn. Hiyori means well, but she's too sympathetic and lets Yukine get away with things. It doesn't help that Yato doesn't really know how to be responsible for a kid or provide for a shinki when he can barely take care of himself half the time. Sleeping in the cold dark and eating scraps and taking 'lame' jobs does not endear him to Yukine. He's pretty sure Yukine hates him. He can feel it.

And Yato is not exactly the best guidepost for this. He's a god to whom the rules of right and wrong do not apply, trying to teach them to an obstinate child who doesn't want to abide by them either.

(Gods can do no wrong. Everything they do is just. Everything he does is just, it's supposed to be just, so why does it always feel like he's wrong? (Gods aren't bound by the rules of right and wrong, so you can do whatever you want. As long as it's what I want. Isn't that right, Yaboku?))

He tries to show Yukine a little of the good, too. When Yukine draws a proper borderline or slices neatly through an ayakashi, Yato makes sure to praise him. Even just a simple 'good job' should mean something. Sometimes it seems like that gets through to the kid a little, but never for long.

(Why isn't it enough? Yato would have killed for that kind of praise and attention when he was a child. He did kill for it. (What a good boy, Yaboku. Why don't you go play some more and bring Daddy more trophies?))

Maybe Yukine is too far away to be reached, too far away to listen. Or maybe it's just that Yato has never learned how to communicate effectively. He doesn't know how to express himself or find the right words. In the end, he always seems to say the wrong thing and make things worse.

(It's pretty pathetic, really, that he's lived for centuries and still can't communicate like a normal person. Maybe it's because he never really had anyone to communicate with. Aside from Father and Hiiro. He's always had them, he supposes. (Yaboku, what did I tell you about talking to strangers? Don't get involved with other people. You have me and Hiiro, don't you?))

The truth is that he has no idea how to fix the problem, so once he's tried everything he can think of and still comes up short, he pushes it to the breaking point instead. He pushes it until it snaps to see if it's easier to break and rebuild than repair what's so warped and cracked.

He takes Yukine to school.

"Coming here might detonate Yukine too," he mumbles, but doesn't elaborate when Hiyori asks.

There's a storm brewing outside, dark and malevolent and hungry, and he wonders which brat's it is.

Manabu doesn't cross the line. He stops and the blade in his hand falls to the ground and the ayakashi hovering over him dissipates. He'll be okay.

But Yukine… Yukine is realizing something. Yato's chest is tight with pain and grief and desperation and loss, and he knows that Yukine is finally understanding what he really wants and why he can't have it.

(Yukine could have Yato, doesn't really have to be alone even if he doesn't belong to the Near Shore anymore, but Yato will never be enough. (No one else wants you, isn't that right, Yaboku? No one but us.))

And then there's anger, and white-hot pain lances through Yato and it's the breaking point that finally shatters him. Everything dissolves into a haze of burning and agony, and he floats in and out of consciousness.

He has just enough presence of mind to shake his head when Kazuma—where did Kazuma come from? That blonde bitch will be furious—urges him to release Yukine's name. He's come this far, and it's too late to turn back now. He can't give up. He'll fight for this kid to the end, hang on as long as possible to give him the chance to save himself. They will live or die together, and it has been so, so long since Yato has had someone worth dying for.

The ablution is a blur, a nightmare. Yukine is crossing the line—so close to crossing the line—and each step he takes towards the other side sends agony tearing through Yato's body. Yato spasms and his lungs burble with blood and iron floods his mouth as crimson spatters the ground.

Yukine's name is disappearing, but Yato is spent and barely has enough life left to think at all, much less perform a miracle.

"Yukine!"

Thank goodness for Hiyori. Her words are giving Yukine pause and strengthening his name, but they aren't enough, not quite. But they give Yato the determination to dig up the very last dredges of his strength to lever himself up and exhort the kid to live.

"But I found you and gave you a person's name, so…live as a person. Live, Yukine!"

(No matter how difficult or painful life is, people should appreciate what it means to be alive at all. (I'm your lifeline, Yaboku. So be a good boy and do as I say and I'll let you live. Isn't that right?))

Yukine turns around and drags himself back away from that dangerous line one step at a time. The relief is crushing.

(Finally, Yato has managed to say the right thing. Finally, he has managed to rescue something rather than destroying it. (Cull the herd, Yaboku.))

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

Yato slumps back against the ground and lets out a shaky breath as Yukine sobs and apologizes and confesses every sin. The kid cries and screams through the night until dawn breaks over the horizon, but he does it. In the end, he wins.

And Yato is… Yato is proud of him. He's proud that Yukine pulled himself back from the line and is finally ready to let go of the hate and anger. Yato knows things will be okay now.

He catches a glimpse of the sweet, innocent kid—his kid, he thinks fiercely—that was buried inside Yukine all along. He knew it was there somewhere, that there was something worth saving, and he wants to cradle it in his arms and protect it from the harshness of the world and nurture it and watch it grow.

He's glad that he didn't give up on it. He's glad he didn't give up on Yukine.

Everything changes after the ablution. Yukine is still a snarky brat and complains and insults Yato at every turn, but the sharp edge has been filed off. He starts a part-time job with Daikoku to earn the money to replace what he stole, he begins getting school lessons from Hiyori, and he doesn't sting Yato again, not even once. He's starting to grow up a little bit.

He doesn't seem to hate Yato anymore either, which is also a plus.

He's growing on Yato, even with all the sass, and it's a little scary. Yato knows better than to get too attached, even if it's what he craves more than anything.

(If you get too attached, it hurts more when they forget or leave. And getting too close always seems to turn out badly. Just look at what happened to Sakura. (Everyone always leaves you, Yaboku. Everyone but us.))

It's a couple weeks later, and Yato is perched on the windowsill, wedged in sideways with the night breeze tugging at his hair as he watches his kid sleeping in the circle of light the lamp casts over his futon.

When did Yukine stop being a kid, a lost soul snatched up to serve as a shinki, and become his kid? Yato wonders if it's Hiyori's fault.

"Yato's still here for you, Yukine! Surely you heard him too! 'He might be a lousy little punk…but I found and named him! I'm going to reforge the Sekki!' Those words were almost like a father's!"

Or maybe it was inevitable. They think he's messing around when he says he fell for Yukine at first sight, but there was an instant spark. A connection. Yato saw something in Yukine, maybe a piece of himself buried in the kid's chest.

He tears his gaze away and looks outside at the night closing in. It's dark. The kind of dark Yukine fears, with only a sliver of silver moon high in the sky and a smattering of stars spangling the velvet darkness.

He's lived for centuries with little meaningful contact outside of Father and Hiiro. He's only known Yukine and Hiyori for a few weeks, and suddenly they've turned his life upside down. Weeks are but a fleeting moment in the context of centuries—just a small candlelit flame that burns bright and flickers out just as quickly. They shouldn't be able to affect him like this. Is he really so desperate that such a tiny moment, such small little lives, can steal his heart?

He can't let go of Hiyori, because she's the only human who cares enough to remember him. And Yukine…

Yukine isn't his son, not really, but something close enough. His kid, whatever that means. Someone to shelter under his wing and look after and take pride in. Yato used his very life to give Yukine his name, so maybe that's where the bond comes from.

But Yato doesn't know anything about being a father, not even just a sort-of-almost father. All he knows is his own father, and…he would never want to raise a kid that way.

(For all the excuses he makes for Father, he knows he'd never want to put another kid through what Father did to him. Does to him. (Time to come home, Yaboku. We love you. We're the only ones who do, isn't that right?))

It's a bad idea. He's getting too attached and much too quickly. He can't care for a kid. He's too sharp and dangerous and old, a naked blade that's always thirsty for blood and will slice open anyone who gets too close. Yukine, for all his gruffness, is still a soft, innocent little thing, and Hiyori is much too kind for Yato's world. Even if Father and Hiiro don't decide they're a bad influence and step in, they'll eventually get cut on Yato's sharp edges.

(Getting attached always turns out badly, because Yato always seems to hurt anyone who gets too close. He can't help it. It's just the way he is. (Well, of course, Yaboku. You're a god of calamity, aren't you? It's silly to think you can make people happy when you only ever bring them pain and death.))

Yato's fingers curl tight and bunch the fabric of his pants. Really, the best thing to do is probably to leave Kofuku and Daikoku, cut his ties with Hiyori, and find Yukine a new, better master and release him. He should, but…

"Yato?" murmurs a sleepy voice from inside the room.

Yato startles and nearly topples right off his precarious perch as he whips his head around. Yukine is blinking at him blearily, eyes half-squinted with sleep, from his nest of blankets.

"Sorry," Yato says. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Can't sleep?" Yukine asks around a yawn.

"Mm, something like that. It's not a big deal."

"Is the lamp too bright? Should I turn it off?"

A quiet fear pinches Yato's chest and his heart does a funny flip-flop with an extra loud thump for good measure, but the offer is genuine despite Yukine's nerves.

"No, that's alright," Yato says. He hops off the sill into the room and slides the window shut. His footsteps whisper against the floorboards as he moves to Yukine's bedside and bends to tug the blanket up again. "Go back to sleep, Yukine," he murmurs fondly, and the kid's eyelids are already dipping shut again as he nods off.

Yato slips into his own bed and pulls the covers over his head—because that lamp really is too bright—and smiles into the safety of the darkness. Maybe he should let Yukine go, but he's a selfish god and he wants to keep the kid.

Yukine deserves to have a proper father figure. Yato is probably never going to be one of those, but the least he can do is try to give Yukine at least a little piece of what life gave neither of them.

Yato and Yukine settle into new routines and learn how to work together. Yato is, admittedly, still not the best at providing for his shinki so there's quite a bit of mooching off Kofuku and Daikoku and Hiyori, but he looks out for Yukine and teaches him things. He still sucks at communicating too, but he grins and praises Yukine for every job well done. It's worth it to see the kid flush and look away and grumble halfheartedly.

Despite his total lack of communication skills and inability to deal with serious emotional issues while being, well, serious, he takes every pang in his chest seriously and sits Yukine down and tells the kid to talk to him. And, amazingly, Yukine does, even if it takes a bit of prodding sometimes.

Yukine even makes friends with another shinki, which is good even if Yato has to keep an eye on him because his new friend just so happens to be one of Bishamon's shinki. But then Suzuha dies and Yato, being the horrible communicator that he is, can't seem to just tell Yukine that. He wants to protect the kid from those ugly parts of the world, but it backfires pretty spectacularly when Yukine goes investigating and finds out himself and then somehow manages to wind up right in the middle of Bishamon's place and get Kazuma exiled while yelling at the psycho bitch.

He is, understandably, a mess. Yato has no real idea of how to handle this, aside from staring at the mound of blankets for a few minutes and then slinking downstairs to sip a beer and possibly get drunk because his whole chest is cramping painfully and it hurts. Hiyori does not approve, but Yato tried opening his mouth once or twice and only managed to make things worse.

(He wonders if he should really be up there trying to comfort the kid, but… Well, maybe he'll do less damage down here. (You bring misfortune wherever you go. You know that, don't you, Yaboku?))

This, too, backfires when he's too out of sorts from Yukine's haywire emotions to adequately protect Hiyori when Bishamon's shinki shows up with a weapon. So now Hiyori's soul is conspicuously missing, and he's going to hunt that psycho bitch down and rescue her.

But he messes up again and gets himself trapped in a prison of borderlines and now he's stuck and going to die here, and, right, that's why he's spent centuries avoiding this crazy bitch. There's nothing to do but brace himself in defiance of the mammoth blade coming down on him.

But then Yukine is suddenly, impossibly, there, blocking the blade's path. And he shatters.

All Yato can do is watch in horror and scream Yukine's name. He collapses to his knees and clutches at his chest as if he can hold the pieces of his breaking heart together with his hand.

"Do you understand now, Yato?" Bishamon asks in a flat, empty voice. "The agony of having your shinki ripped away from you? Allow me to put you out of your misery."

This isn't how it was supposed to be. Yato was supposed to protect Yukine, and now Yukine is dead. Again. Yato had finally, finally found someone to hold close and care for, and now…

(Why does everyone he dares to love die? (Because all you're really good at is killing. Isn't that right, Yaboku?))

His thoughts grind to an abrupt halt. Yukine's name…isn't fading? Yukine is dead, he has to be, but a surge of wild, dangerous hope wells in Yato's chest.

"Sekki!"

And Yukine is back. He's back and has evolved into two blades and is perfectly fine, as if he wasn't just shattered into pieces right in front of Yato's eyes. He's alive.

The aftershocks of grief and guilt still rattle Yato's bones, but he doesn't have time to worry about things like that so he lets the relief and determination and pride surge through him instead.

"I'm going to brag to everyone when we get back!" he says.

And he does.

He brags to Tenjin and his shinki, to Kofuku and Daikoku and anyone who will listen. "That's my kid! He's a genius, huh? Isn't he so cool? Are you guys jealous? You don't have anything like him!"

Yukine flushes and ducks his head and smiles under the praise, and everyone showers attention on him. Yato hangs around on the sidelines and watches with a small smile.

He doesn't even care when Tenjin and some of the others lament that he, such a worthless god, obtained a hafuri. They aren't entirely wrong, and he has an uncomfortable, squirmy feeling that Yukine would not have been so quick to pledge his life and loyalty if he truly understood who Yato is.

(Really, Yato is a little bit ashamed of tricking the kid into thinking he's someone worth pledging eternal loyalty to. (You do understand, Yaboku? That everyone will leave you as soon as they realize who you really are? Everyone but us.))

Still, he's never had a shinki evolve for him like that, never had one that cared enough, and it warms his heart. It's a sign that his affection for the kid is not entirely one-sided, that maybe Yukine senses and appreciates the bond too.

But mostly Yato is just proud. It takes a special kind of shinki to become a hafuri, and Yukine has come so far from that lousy little brat hell-bent on stinging Yato to death. Yato wants to throw his arm around the kid and gather up everyone who said he shouldn't use such an unstable shinki, said that he should give up on Yukine, and say, 'You were wrong. You wanted to give up on him, but look at him now!'

It makes him proud to see his kid come this far, and it also gives him just a tiny little sliver of hope that if Yukine can change so much, maybe he can too.

(He really does want to change. He's been trying to escape from his old life for centuries. It's just that he isn't any good at making it on his own, and he always goes crawling back when Father calls because following orders is all he knows. (And killing is all you're good at. Stop trying to be something you aren't, Yaboku.))

"You've found it, Yato," Hiyori says with soft eyes and a bright smile. "Your one and only."

(What does that even mean? Does such a thing truly exist? (You are such good children. Go play some more. It's the three of us forever, Yaboku.))

Yato's smile brings a faint blush to his cheeks and pinches his eyes shut, and he pushes the voices out of his head. "Yup!"

Ebisu rocks the boat when he comes by to throw money around. It's a lot of money and it's a low blow to poke at the whole shrine issue, but Yato would never sell Yukine like that. Not even to finance a shrine.

But Yukine is thrown off balance and he hesitates. It's the money and the sudden, unexpected pressure of being a guidepost, and he takes Ebisu's card. Yato can feel his uncertainty. His inner conflict manifests itself in Yato's body as a dull ache nested just behind his eyes that's threatening to burst into a full-blown headache at any moment.

It stings, just a little, but Yato supposes this is what he gets for being a poor, good-for-nothing god that can't even provide for his shinki properly.

Yukine suggests, rather flatly, that he start charging more for his jobs, and Yato goes on the defensive. It's not about the money, he says.

(More than the money, he wants people to believe in him. Maybe even appreciate him just a little. The money is for a shrine—a shrine that will mean someone remembers him and needs him. (You don't need believers or a shrine, do you? I'm your lifeline, Yaboku. Your only lifeline.))

His shinki always end up quitting because of the money. Humans are just so attached to the stuff. Even Yukine, it seems.

"If you want to go to Ebisu's place, then just go…"

Yato doesn't want Yukine to go, not really, but… But if that's what the kid wants…

(Yato's father will never let him go. (You belong to me, Yaboku.))

If that's what Yukine wants, Yato will let him go.

Yato is resigning himself to this turn of events, but then Yukine takes all that money Ebisu gave them and throws it off the top of a building to lure out the greedy ayakashi they're hunting.

"I think you would be in trouble if Nora was your guidepost," he says, half to himself. "If it's going to be me or her, then…I want to get stronger."

Yato pauses in his tracks, money forgotten for the moment. This kid—his kid—has really changed a lot, and Yato is proud of him.

(But Yukine is wrong. Hiiro was never Yato's guidepost. She only passes along orders and keeps him on track. (Yaboku, you're going to be a good boy and do as I say, right?))

And he's pretty sure this means Yukine is here to stay, and he's relieved enough that he drops the money when his kid tells him to, even if it means giving up on his shrine for a little while longer. Today, he'll give up a shrine to gain an exemplar.

That Hiyori then turns around and makes a tiny shrine for him with her own two hands is the miracle he never saw coming. He holds it in his hands and cries.

(He wishes Sakura could see him now, a changed god with a wonderful kid to be his guidepost and a real human believer who made him the shrine no one else ever would. (Don't be silly. You don't need believers or shrines or troublesome shinki leading you astray, Ya– (Take that, Father.)))

Note: This was also originally a one-shot, but it got long and I was too lazy to cut it down, so now it's two parts. And as a random note, it's not a coincidence that there are so many rhetorical questions in the parenthetical asides. It's bad enough to tell someone bad things about themselves, and even worse to basically prod them into agreeing with them. Or, it's sort of a more concrete manifestation of that internal shift that takes place when you're told something long enough that you start to believe it and acquire them as your own beliefs and thoughts. Those aren't just his father's words anymore, but Yato's.

Anyway, this is very Yato-and-Yukine-centric, but it also became very Yato-centric in that way, with more of a focus on how his developing relationship with Yukine helps him grow and work past his own trauma too. It got kinda stream-of-consciousness at times X)