…Yukine. I’m Yato, your master. I’ve summoned you from the Far Shore to serve as my Regalia. I permit you to serve and remain by my side longer than kin. You’ve nothing to fear anymore…
…He might be a lousy little punk, but I found and named him…
…Yukine-kun, don’t cross to the other side! Don’t let yourself become a Phantom! Yato’s still here for you, Yukine-kun…
…Yukine! I granted you a person’s name! So live as a person! Live, Yukine…!
“S-Sorry…” Yukine choked out, his hand clenching into a fist beside him. Eyes scrunched up painfully and he sat up, wiping hastily at his cheeks. The night air was cool around him, but the tears staining his cheeks were hot, like boiled water. A quiet sob escaped from him as he pulled his knees to his chest, curling up on himself. He shook violently, the remnants of his nightmare playing over and over in his mind, gripping at him like tendrils of gloom. His most recent memories of how badly he had messed up and the damage he had caused played in his mind like a broken record, reminding him of all the things he seemed to no longer have. Despite everything, he’d lost his friends anyways, and because of that he was suffering on his own.
It was dark out, cold, and quiet too. Yukine had managed to find a spot in the park near one of the lights, but it was dim and not bright enough to ease the young boy’s mind, especially not when what little sleep he managed to get was plagued by night terrors. He shook, terrified, alone and in the darkness, but refused to admit his state of being to himself. In his mind, he wasn’t scared and he wasn’t upset, he couldn’t be either of those things because he might hurt Yato again – if the stupid God was even in this world.
Deciding the very idea of sleep was too much of a hassle, he unfolded himself, stumbling to his feet. He sniffed, using the sleeve of his sweater to dry his face as he willed himself to stop crying. Yukine was resolved in the fact that his tears weren’t helping anyone, although the tiredness that clung to him argued back that it was nice to just let it out for once. It was due to his exhaustion that he was slow on the uptake when it came to recognizing a familiar presence, but when he turned to leave his park bench, Yukine spotted him.
A black track suit, white stripes decorating the sides. Brown boots and a stupid scarf, the stench of sweat and musk usually clinging to the air whenever he was around. Blue eyes like clear water, and messy dark hair that Yukine knew for a fact needed more washing than it received. It was Yato, there was no doubt. He was here, he was right in front of him, he –
Yukine watched in horror as the God suddenly fell to the ground, gloom covering his entire form. He was spitting blood and crying out Yukine’s name.
Yukine woke with a start, a yell of his master’s name escaping his throat, making him hoarse. The tears returned soon after, the blond having not realized he’d fallen back asleep again. He raised his hands, pressing them painfully against his eyes. As if hurting himself would make the pain in his heart ease, the boy clawed and tugged at his own hair, threatening to lose himself to a breakdown once more. He wanted to see Yato, Hiyori, anyone familiar again – wanted to know he hadn’t lost them.
Stumbling off the bench he’d secured for himself for real this time, Yukine choked back gross sobs, quietly mumbling Yato’s name, rubbing desperately at his eyes, should anyone still be lingering around this late. Turning sharply to the side to leave the area, deciding maybe finding a more well-lit place would help ease his mind, or he could at least wander around more until he felt like sleeping again, Yukine collided with someone else. Keeping his head down, the amber eyed boy mumbled a quiet apology before chancing a glance up.
For the second time that night, Yukine ran into Yato, although this time was much more real. The same blue eyes, messy hair, dark track suit with the white stripes… brown boots –
Yukine was startled, his eyes going wide and he ignored the way his nose dripped and the way his cheeks were clearly wet from crying, sweatshirt stained with tears. Instead, he reached out a tentative hand, feeling the fabric of his track suit and the lingering warmth of Yato’s arm, swallowing back a whole new set of tears with the realization that Yato was real. Real and standing in front of him, probably looking down at him incredulously, but in that moment Yukine didn’t care. Drawing close, he wrapped his arms tightly around Yato’s torso, with no hint of letting go any time soon. He started crying all over again, burying his face in the fabric of Yato’s track suit.
“You’re here, you’re actually here…! I– I’m sorry –” Yukine rambled out, visibly shaking, “I’m so sorry Yato I– I didn’t leave on purpose, and I don’t want to hurt you– It’s just…”
the darkness. it was always the darkness that yato feared the most. even though he had hiyori as company in the mornings, the nights were one that he spent alone, sleeping on a tattered couch in an apartment complex, whispers bearing the name ‘sakura’ dropping from his lips from time to time. the nightmares always ended the same. yato, waking up drenched in his own sweat, clammy digits clutching at his shirt, wondering if the very same would happen to his own regalia. he almost always ended his thoughts with tears slowly starting to spill over his eyes, this time breathing a DIFFERENT name.
where was he? where had he gone? why did he leave him?
but most importantly, why did he feel this INCREDIBLE amount of pain in his heart? as though he was blighting him again, like those days where the god had just recently named the shinki as his own.
( looks like a brat still in his teens. that period is a bit of a pain. )
he was certain that this pain, twas akin to one felt in hell. needles penetrating his purpled skin, piercing straight through that the echo was felt in his very bones. he would rather experience being blighted a thousand times over, than have to spend another moment without his beloved shinki by his side.
i don’t care what they do to me.
as long as i’ll have yukine again.
still, the pain coursed up and down his body without mercy. it served as a reminder that yukine was gone, away someplace else. he didn’t need to know yukine’s feelings. the tremors that came at night told him enough. another day would pass, and another, and another. until they all blurred together and yato couldn’t even focus straight when he was with hiyori. that’s when he started to have his midnight walks to take his mind of his thoughts, of him. he hated feeling weak, HATED that he hadn’t done enough to be worthy of being called a monster. yukine deserved so much, and he hadn’t provided him with enough. not at all.
not after what happened with his father.
just the very thought of yukine’s past, his death was enough to bring the god to tears. he stood there, with his head in his hands, his tears dripping onto the ground below him as he yet again, felt yukine BLIGHTING him.
when the deity felt stable enough to walk back home, he wiped his eyes with his sleeve, involuntarily clutching at his side for him, for yukine. a jolt of pain shot through him went he clutched at air. not again. just a little more farther, and i’ll be home. with staggered steps, and a clenched mouth, he arrived at a corner. not before he turned it, that he felt his body collide with someone else, causing him to gasp out suddenly.
he didn’t say anything, for he was only focused on getting home. safely. he could HEAR them coming. he needed him to protect himself, because he didn’t know what he would do if phantoms suddenly got a whiff of the god. but he was stopped from walking ahead. a hand, reaching for his arm. azure blue met with...luminous orange.
his eyes... it’s as though the light in them had suddenly reappeared. the god stared, still looking straight forward as he was pulled closer and embraced by the boy. this wasn’t real. this couldn’t be real. but everything, from yukine’s warmth, to his familiar pale-blonde hair, felt SO real, that he almost CURSED the gods for implanting such a dream. the tears that threatened to spill over his cheeks did, and soon after he was wrapping his arms around the boy, his name barely registering from his lips.
yukine was here. and he was here... with him.
the god felt his own tears trailing down his cheeks, but his chest felt unusually wet as well. he was crying, too. he must’ve felt it as well.
’ y-yukine! yukine! you’re---here! ’
he laughed suddenly, his voice breaking despite the joy that invaded his heart. he buried his face into blonde hair, tearfully repeating his name a few more times before he started to cry harder, now resting his chin on top of yukine’s head. his arms were wound tight around the boy, not daring to let him go anytime soon.
