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Killing Infancy

Summary:

Kazuma brings it up as Yukine picks at his food. "He never told you it was against the Heavens?"

"Never."

It would've be easier to give himself over to phantoms in Yomi than to never love the god again.

Notes:

This is me writing yet another serious, depressing Noragami fic.

Please excuse me, and the errors. I'm sure there's some there; feel free to let me know if you see anything though!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

When it first happens, Yukine thinks it's real. Yato is rocking his hips oh-so-slowly, and is moaning the blond's name so much that it sounds like a mantra, and momentarily, he questions if he's the god and Yato the shinki. But as Yukine is gripping the sheets, getting closer, and closer, and closer...

...He wakes up to an empty bed, and it's a nightmare about skin and love and kisses.

"Yato...?" He calls softly, and he rolls to his left. Kazuma is at his side, looking at the boy pitifully.

"Not yet," he says.

The blond turns over.

X

Two days later, and Kazuma brings it up as Yukine picks at his food. "He never told you it was against the Heavens?"

Yukine avoids eye contact, hates that what he shared with Yato has become public knowledge, hates how everyone stares at him and warns him again and again that what they had can't ever happen, that this is the only and last chance he gets. The blond stabs his chopsticks into the bowl of rice, and ignores Kazuma's look. He knows he's being rude, knows this action is reserved for funerals, but he doesn't care; he feels like he's the one that's just died.

"Never."

The older shinki leans back against his chair, eyeing the boy and his behavior before quietly saying, "He knew you'd never been loved. Perhaps he was being kind."

Yukine hates it, the way Kazuma looks so relaxed, throwing out guesses like they made sense. They didn't. If anything, it confused him more. The blond looks up. "There's nothing kind about this." The blond sniffles once and wipes his nose, blames it on a cold. Flippantly, he entertains the thought that it would've be easier to give himself over to phantoms in Yomi than to never love the god again. Not that he'd ever say it, though. He takes one chopstick -only one- and makes a game out of individually turning each grain.

Kazuma sighs, pushes up his glasses, and stands up. "It's against the Heavens," he repeats.

X

It's a week later when Yukine is woken up in the middle of another nightmare. This time, Yato's starting at him, and it'll always be like this I swear , and kisses his forehead as he runs fingertips up Yukine's side.

This time, its a light touch to his face that wakes him. This time, it's Daikoku.

"You're muttering his name again," he states.

The blond says nothing.

X

It's a month later, and Yukine is in bed, a place he's become well aquainted with since Yato passed, when there's a commotion outside his door.

He doesn't even get a chance to open it, to even touch the door knob when it's slung open and Bishamon is standing there with a small smile on her face. "He's been reborn." And then she motions to someone.

He comes out from behind her, dressed in a pure white robe. His eyes and hair contrasts so darkly with it, that the cloth appears to glow. Yukine smiles, and gets to his knees. In this position, the child is taller than him, and this feels normal, with Yato looking down at him.

"Yato...I'm Yukine, your shinki."

He had been warned about this, that Yato wouldn't remember anything, but it still takes him off guard when the tiny god hugs him around the neck and calls him "Yuki-chan". He'd never called Yukine that before.

X

It was hard at first, so damn hard, because Yato's a child and Yukine had to do everything. He had to learn how to tame the boy's wild hair, teach him to write his characters, how to dress himself, and everything else in between while the blond is still mourning over what he can't have.

He doesn't think it's fair.

It isn't, he's sure, because no one tells Yato, and Yukine is told not to mention anything about it because that's against the Heavens, too, and it's just so fucking hard.

The god sleeps in the futon with him, because he's afraid of being alone, and he curls up next to him, and the blond questions hourly if this is really what he wants.

Everyday is torture.

Everyday is hell.

Yukine resort to wearing a rubber band on his wrist, and he slaps at against his flesh whenever he thinks of how cute, how adorable, how everything Yato is. Inside, his stomach flips, and churns, and occasionally he feels to urge to cram fingers down his throat and puke because his thoughts are so impure. He's a fucking child, he tells himself. Even if it could work -which it can't- he's just a child, and that makes him feel sick. Yato still carries that aura of infancy about him.

Eventually, he starts hating the child, because he can't love him anymore, and he's so alone, so he builds walls to repel it all.

One night, when Yato is asleep, when Yukine can't sleep, he picks up the child, and not too gently, drops him onto the floor.

Yato had woke up crying, shrieking when the blond hadn't let him crawl back into bed with him. "Please, Yuki-chan! Please! I'm tired!" And the dark haired boy had collapsed into a pleading mess clutching the fabric of the blanket close. It was always like Yato to complain. Yukine had shifted as far away as possible, like the child was diseased, tainted, even though he clearly knew it was the other way around.

It woke up everyone.

Diakoku had come running, shouting something about if Yato was okay -it was always about Yato, now- when he saw the younger shinki had drawn a borderline against the god. Diakoku had frowned. He had reached around the magic, grabbed the blond by his shirt collar, and dragged him outside.

Yukine hadn't broken down, but his eyes were hollow, and the older shinki couldn't find a spark of willpower or life or emotion left in them.

"I can't do this," Yukine had said.

Diakoku had eyed the teenager's newly reddened wrist, raised an eyebrow at the rubber band while he shoved a cigarette in his mouth. "He has no other shinki. You must."

X

It's two years later when the god finds out. He's almost back to normal now, growing at an insanely quicker pace than humans.

Never once had he questioned the distance between him and Yukine. They worked well together, that was all that mattered.

But when Yukine is sweeping the shop one day, the god storms forward and shoves the scrap of paper in his face, confused and angry all at once.

"What the hell is this? You have some kind of fetish or something? Don't you know this is illegal?"

It takes a moment for Yukine to recognize it, see that is the quick sketch of them the god had drawn in his previous life. They were close, Yato grinning, and playfully kissing Yukine's cheek while the younger boy blushed, avoided looking into the camera.

Yato had drawn it from a photograph they taken ages ago, but the original photo had been confiscated as evidence in the trial. It had been one of the last pieces presented to the Heavens before they'd announced Yato's sentence- divine punishment -like they were reading from a script. No one sounded regretful, and Yukine had been dragged away from the scene when he started screaming his objections.

Yukine jerks the paper from his master's hands, but too quickly. The drawing is ripped in half, and for a moment, the blond is lost and his eyes are sorrowful. But then, it just turns to anger.

He shoves the god backwards, makes him stumble into a table, because it's all his fault and it makes him angry that Yato can't even see that. "What the fuck?" He feels like he should be upset; that was the last thing, the last little scrap that proved he wasn't insane, that proved the past was real, but there aren't even tears in his eyes. "Why the hell did you -would you go through my stuff?!"
He reachs down, scoops up the torn sheet and glances at the drawn Yato, his Yato.

The young man in front of him, the kid he's practically raised is standing, overwhelmed by his shinki's outburst. Over the two years, Yukine had never shown any emotion. He was always just...there.

Yukine throws the scrap in his hand, at Yato's face, but it just flutters to the ground. The whole motion seemed way too peaceful for the situation, so he stamps on it for good measure, twists his foot in the process. "You've ruined everything! You always ruin everything. You will never be like him!" And it makes Yukine even more upset, because it is him, and that hurts worse.

Kofuku and Diakoku have showed up, and the older shinki sees the scrap the blond is standing on, and carefully hugs the boy from behind, like a child. Yukine crumbles in the embrace, emotions spilling from his eyes even if tears weren't, all the while still shouting about privacy and memories and the past.

The older shinki takes control, while Yato looks thoroughly confused, and Kofuku looks down at the blond in pity.

"You weren't supposed to have this," the man speaks quietly.

"I know, fuck, I know, but it was the only thing...the only thing of him I have left..." The blond is looking at the floor as Kofuku bends down and touches his hair, while still looking at the raven haired male.

His mouth is open. His eyes are wide. He whispers, "Yukine...", and reachs a hand forward to touch his shinki.

But he gets shot down with a, "Fuck off," and his hand is swatted away.

Diakoku meets Yato's blue eyes reluctantly, and says, softly, "Release him. He's been through this long enough."

The blond the man is holding, the boy he's cradling in his arms, yells out a desperate, "No," and his voice cracks on the word as he pleads. Yukine shudders. It's a replay of the exact time two years ago when the council had looked down at Yato and descended on him like a pack of wild dogs. Except this time, Yato isn't bleeding, and this time, the setting is the shop instead of some court in the Heavens. He still shudders, anyways.

Daikoku holds him tighter, flicking his gaze between the blond and the raven, and then at his own goddess.

"Mistress?" He asks, over the heaving breaths of Yukine. Diakoku holds tighter; the blond is clawing at his arms.

Kofuku's eyes dim, and she looks at the raven before her. "You really don't remember, do you?"

Yato frowns, bites his lip, and looks at the ripped drawing on the ground.

"I gave you everything!" Yukine is screaming. "I gave you fucking everything!"

"You..."

"I gave you my body, Yato! You didn't even tell me, you bastard!" Yukine grabs at the paper besides him, crumples it up before launching it at Yato. This time, it hits him right on the shoulder, and he can't help but feel a bit more content. Still, he's knows he's saying to much, knows the Heavens will execute him for his actions. He doesn't care. He keeps on, even as Kofuku and Diakoku try and shut him up.

"Yuki, stop."

"If they find out-"

"-Didn't tell me shit! And then you have the nerve, the guts, to say you love me right before they murder you? That you'll always love me? Liar! I hate you! I hate you!" The outburst becomes increasingly weak, and the blond sinks even further onto the floor, Diakoku all but supporting him.

Yato is quite, his mouth still slightly open, looking at the other half of the drawing, the side with Yukine looking off to the side, his lower lip jutted out just so. Yato feels the pain welling on his neck, touches the spot, and feels his body go numb when his fingertips come back, tinged with blight.

Kofuku is the first one to speak, her voice ringing softly in the silence. "Yukine, you need to repent. You need to say sorry and let Yato go wash himself so-"

The blond laughs, pitifully. "I will never apologize for this. I can't repent loving him. Not like that." He lifts his eyes, and he catchs Yato's suprised blue ones. "It doesn't matter, anyways," He finishes. "The Heavens most likely already know. This time tomorrow, it'll be over, and you can all start pretending again that this didn't happen. That none of this-"

Kofuku frowns, deeply. "Thats not fair, Yukki!"

"Nothing ever is!" His tone is clipped and forceful, but he avoids eye contact.

"You're just giving up? You're going to leave your master here, defenseless, and to die all over again?!" Diakoku is livid, hovering over the boy like a thunderstorm.

"Well I'm obviously not good enough for him, am I?" Yukine shouts back, hands clenched tight.

No one speaks. Yato bends down, fluidly, and scoops up both pieces, one just torn, and the other crumpled. He unfolds it, and stares at them both evenly.

"Yukine," the god says, softly, "If this is really us, if we did everything you said, why would you hide it-"

The boy tsks, angrily, but chooses not to say anything.

Yato looks up, initiates eye contact. "Did I really say I'd always love you?"

The blond cries out again, folds over as he groans in between his lowly string of curses and insults. Finally, an exasperated "Yes," escapes his lips.

The god bends forward, eyes intense, and he says, "Then I will. Until you die, I'll love you."

He smiles, softly, and the other god and her shinki murmur their disapproval, but Yukine looks at Yato, and the god swears the kid nods. The blond's defiant eyes glimmer back with understanding.

X

It didn't play out how Yukine had expected it to. The next day, he was filled with anxiety and he spooked at every unexpected noise, but when nothing happened, he relaxed enough to fall asleep by Yato, their fingers intertwined.

But within two days, the both of them had been summoned again, and another trial was immediately held. The blond had expected punishment, knew it was coming, but he wasn't prepared for this.

"I refuse." Yato had said, eyes flashing, and positioning himself in front of his shinki. "This isn't a punishment. This is-!"

Somewhere in this room, Yukine had spotted both Kazuma and Diakoku, but his eyes refused to look up, afraid of seeing the look on their faces, the disappointment. He'd screwed up. Again.

"If you don't, someone else will." It was a different god from the one who'd originally given the command, someone with a stern face and old eyes. He was sitting on the tatami, calmly. Yukine expected that man had never received devine punishment in all his life.

"You need to punish him." Another god chimed in. The room was filled with murmurings.

Yato looked at the blond, but the boy didn't meet his eyes. Yato could feel how sick on his stomach his shinki was, but he also could feel how resigned he was as well, how empty. Yukine was giving himself up to this.

Yato swallowed. "I won't kill him. I-"

The god was cut off sharply by the blond. "Damn it, Yato! Do what you have to do!"

The blond was on edge, more than before, and the god knew it was from the anticipation. He could see how his shoulders were tight, how the plaid shirt hung around his small frame desperately. He half expected Yukine to bolt or to bow in forgiveness, but the blond was too damn stubborn, and he held his ground.

Somwhere, someone had muttered, "See? Even the sinner knows he's in the wrong."

Yato glared, but Yukine said nothing -just ground his teeth together-, and eventually the god breathed out, nodded as he looked at the ground, and held out his palm to no one in particular. "...Give me the knife."

It was cold, and short, and it felt too heavy in Yato's hands, as if it were unevenly weighted. The murmuring stopped just enough for his boots to echo on the floor.

The last step was the hardest, and he knew it was for Yukine, too. The blond was looking down, away, anywhere but at the man in front of him. Even so, he felt his foot linger just a nanosecond longer, hesitate just so, before it clicked on the tile. He tsked. Of course they would be forced into tile. The Heavens didn't want poisioned shinki blood on the tatami.

Yukine took a shaky breath, and it rattled his whole chest. "I'm sorry...not to them, but for you," he said, quietly, "I didn't intend-"

"Shut up," Yato said, and he regretted it instantly. Yukine screwed his eyes shut, but that didn't stop a shiny drop from worming out of the corner of his eye. He put a hand on the blond's shoulder, gently.

"If you trust me, I want you to do everything I say, okay, Yukine?"

The blond nodded, and held his breath. He expected the blow to come now, to shear him in two.

Yato dropped his eyes, saw how Yukine's fists were balled up, the veins in his hands protruding.

"Look at me, please."

Yukine did, and Yato had to hold back a smile. The kid was as stubborn as ever, his eyes sharp, and it looked as if the boy hadn't been crying at all.

"Now, I want you to relax, and kiss me."

Yukine opened his mouth, his eyes betraying his emotions. He objected to it, and was hurt by the order. "I-"

"I'll always love you, Yukine."

Yato knew his gaze was intense, saw how Yukine gave into him, slowly, and then suddenly.

Within seconds, the blond was kissing him, his hands gripping the god's jacket awkwardly, and occasionally tears leaking down his face. It didn't take long for him to relax into the token of affection, and Yato dismissed the cries of offense shouted by the council. He could feel how innocent Yukine was, how light the kiss was, and just as methodically, he picked up on the hitch the blond's breathing.

Yato had thrust the blade in as swiftly as he could, but he himself felt the pain as Yukine stopped breathing, as he pulled away, and eyes trailed down to his abdomen where Yato was still holding the blade.

There was blood bubbling up, and it dropped to the floor where Yukine smeared it with the toe of his shoe.

The blond flicked his eyes up slowly, and he smiled as he coughed, as his body shook with the violent motion, and he battled to keep his composure. Even so, the blond gasped, softly, and Yato could hear the praises of the others over the squeaks and chokes of Yukine. The Congratulations and Good boy he keep hearing seemed ill fitting for the situation. He blocked them out.

But he couldn't block the way his tears welled up, how they clung to his eyes, but didn't drop. Instead, he focused on the boy in his grip, pulled him tighter to him as he extracted the blade and moaned out, "Oh, shit, I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry..."

The boy, with the tears running down his face, forced a grin. "I-" he gulped down a grimace, coughed lightly from the pain of it all, "I apologize for putting you through so...much sh-shit. ...Should've told you." Yukine's knees buckled, slightly, and the god quickly picked him up, and laid him on the ground.

He felt his heart squeeze when the blond groaned from the movement.

Yato looked up at the others, eyes pleading, and in a last ditch effort, shouted at the council, "Please, help him...I'll do anything, anything!" He got no response, just silence, and he filled it up with curses and damn-you-all's and cries of anguish.

There was so much blood, and his hands were in it, red matte turning rust, and Yukine couldn't even speak now -just thin little breaths, and Yato half-heartedly whispered, "You'll be okay, kid. I'm here."

But the god knew it wouldn't be fine, hated himself for being a god of misfortune rather than luck.

Yato could feel the name fading from his mind, saw it, actually, as the kanji peaking out from his collar starting to fade, and he let out another cry. He stroked Yukine's hair frantically, moved strands away from his eyes as he watched them dim, and when the boy was gone, and a hollow shell was in his place, the god dropped himself over the still warm body, murmuring apologies to no one.

"Enough," someone eventually said, "The next time you'll be conscious, you'll have forgotten about this, and it'll all be fine."

The god looked up, wearily, before he touched the handle of the knife at his side. It was still slick with blood, still corrupted with innocence, but he let the tip drag across the tile, relished the sound of scraping as he stood up and wiped the tears from his eyes. His face came away streaked bloody, like battle paint, and he smiled at the though. That was exactly what it was.

He grinned, his voice even as he tossed his hair from his face. "You commanded me to kill my shinki. You did nothing as he bled out, and you say it'll all be fine, that it'll be okay?" Yato laughs, tosses the blade and catchs it again. "None of this will ever be okay."

He rushes at them.

X

"Yato-kun!" Diakoku calls out, getting more frusterated. It's been five minutes. They were supposed to have left to Ebisu's ten minutes ago, but in between getting Kofuku and Yato ready, that feat was proving impossible.

The man tucks a cigarette in between his lips as he looks at the clock. They were definitely going to be late.

"Koku-nii!" He hears the shout and the patter of little feet before he sees him, quietly thinks if he can scoop up Yato, all he has to do is find his Mistress.

But Yato takes him off guard. The boy, not even half a month into his reincarnation, comes running into the room with his stuffed rabbit, holding a scrap of paper in his hand. "Koku, who is this?"

The boy hands it to his superior eagerly, cradling his toy when he's relinquished the sheet.

"Yato, we don't have time for this. We have to-" He pauses as he looks at the scrap, eyebrows raised. It's the scrap that should have been destroyed, the half with Yukine blushing and looking away. Yato tugs at his shirt.

"Who is it?" The boy asks again, tugging at the obi around his waste. Diakoku gives him a look, but the boy revolts with a quiet, "You tied it to tightly, again."

The man sighs, goes to hand the paper back, but instead tucks it in his pocket. "It's no one. Just a drawing from a long time ago. Are you ready?"

"Can I have it back?" Yato's eyes are wide, pleading, and it causes Diakoku to give it, to pull out the paper and hand it over, hesitantly.

The boy's eyes light up and he grins as Diakoku asks again, "Are you ready?"

The boy nods excitedly as Kofuku waltzes in, her pink hair bouncing. But the boy drags the attention back to himself. Yato holds up his stuffed animal proudly, grinning with the crumpled paper in his hands. "Yuki-chan can come, too, right? He wants to go!"

Diakoku blinks, and drops down on a knee. "Yes, but first, what did I tell you about calling him that in public?"

Yato frowns. "That I can't do it. When we're not home, he's just 'Rabbit'."

"That's right." He ruffles the boy's hair, and motions for them both. "Now let's go."

Notes:

Thank you for reading! Seriously, if you lasted this long without getting irritated or bored, you're great and I thank you!

Maybe comments or Kudos?