Half a year has passed since the god Yato vanished without a trace.
Iki Hiyori, now nineteen, lives an ordinary life as a university student in Tokyo—attending lectures, making friends, studying psychology. She gave up her powers as a half-ayakashi to walk the Near Shore as a normal human being. It was her choice. It should have been enough.
But the hole he left behind refuses to close.
Between lectures on grief and loss, Hiyori finds herself searching for answers she can't find in any textbo
Dawn Without Yato -Noragami After Story- - Memories of Rain, Frozen Bonds
Clutching a copy of *The Psychology of Trauma and Loss* borrowed from the university library, Iki Hiyori walked out of the campus with heavy steps.
Today's lecture had lingered in her mind strangely. Acceptance of loss, post-traumatic growth, reconstruction of attachment — every single topic felt as though it had been crafted specifically for her.
(*I'm such an idiot.*)
Hiyori let out a small sigh.
A cold rain had been beating against the city since morning. Droplets hammered the fabric of her umbrella, bounced off the pavement, and streamed through the gutters like rivers. It was as if the world itself was weeping. Inside Hiyori's heart, it was just as cold and just as wet.
As she approached Musashino-Chuo Station, the footsteps of passengers began to mingle with the sound of the rain. Salarymen, students, a housewife clutching shopping bags — each of them sealed inside their own world, passing by without the spare capacity to notice anyone else's pain.
The rotary in front of the station.
Hiyori stopped walking.
A small shrine came into view. An old stone shrine, one that had survived the wave of redevelopment in front of the station. Back when she had been half-ayakashi, Hiyori had been able to see this place for what it was: a spot where the boundary was thin, known as a "narrow path." A thoroughfare for phantoms and gods, where the far shore and the near shore overlapped. Every time she came here, she would toss a five-yen coin into the offering box and press her palms together. *May we be bound together* — the subject of that wish had always been just one person.
(*And now, to me, it's nothing but a lump of stone.*)
Even so, Hiyori stood before the shrine.
She was reaching into her bag when it happened.
Something flickered at the edge of her vision. Behind the shrine. In the corner of the garbage collection area. The shadow of a rain-soaked cardboard box.
A small, crumpled shape in the form of a person.
Hiyori's heart gave a single, violent leap.
"...Yukine?"
The voice that left her lips was so small it was nearly swallowed by the rain. But that crumpled shape — no, that boy — definitely reacted to her voice.
He slowly lifted his head.
Pale blond hair. Soaked by the rain, his usual bedhead was plastered wetly against his forehead. Large amber eyes caught Hiyori in their gaze. Those eyes couldn't quite seem to focus, as if he were staring at something beyond a veil of fog.
It was Yukine.
He was in tatters. A thin hoodie was drenched through, clinging to his body. The knees of his jeans were stained with mud, and his sneakers looked heavy, saturated with water. His body seemed shrunken, curled in on itself, hardly that of a fourteen-year-old boy. On the back of his right hand — the faintly glowing pattern that had once been proof of his status as a "Blessed Vessel" — now only flickered weakly, almost convulsively.
"Yukine, why are you...?"
Hiyori crouched down, holding her umbrella out over him. She didn't care that the rain was soaking her own shoulders.
Yukine opened his mouth, then closed it. His teeth were chattering, a soft clicking sound. It wasn't just the cold. He seemed to be shivering from somewhere much deeper.
"I dunno..."
The voice he finally squeezed out was hoarse, on the verge of fading away.
"Before I knew it... I was here. I came to this side on a mission. Orders from Kagura Shin... to pick up materials for a ritual tool."
He wrapped his arms around himself and continued.
"But on the way, I suddenly... couldn't move. My legs gave out, I couldn't breathe. I remembered there was a shrine here... and then, and then..."
His words broke off.
"I think... I wanted to see you."
Hiyori felt a tight clench deep in her chest.
He had been drawn here, to this "narrow path," unconsciously. His instinctive senses as a shinki had likely chosen this place for him — a place where his bonds with his former master and comrades had been strong. That was how cornered he was.
"...Let's go."
Hiyori took his cold hand. The strength with which he gripped back was shockingly weak.
"Let's get something warm to drink. My regular place is nearby."
Yukine said nothing, just gave a tiny nod.
— Café "Shion."
A small coffee shop, a three-minute walk from the university's main gate. Six counter seats, and only four two-person tables. The walls were slightly yellowed, and old wooden shelves displayed coffee cups of various shapes. The sound of coffee beans being ground drifted from the back, and the shop was filled with a bittersweet aroma.
"Welcome — oh, my!"
The owner, Tanabe Mitsuko, rounded her eyes from behind the counter. A woman in her sixties, her graying hair was tied back in a single bunch. Her face was etched with lines of kindness deeper than her years, and she welcomed every customer as if they were her own grandchild.
"Hiyori-chan, that boy is soaked to the bone! Just wait a moment, I'll bring towels right away."
Mitsuko quickly retreated to the back, then returned with two pure-white bath towels in her arms.
"Here, dry off with these. Take the seat in the back, it's right in front of the heater. I'll have something warm ready for you in a jiffy."
"I'm sorry, thank you so much."
Hiyori draped a towel over Yukine's shoulders and sat him down at the window seat.
Yukine kept his head down, awkwardly drying his hair with the towel. The gesture was somehow childlike, completely different from his rebellious past. Hiyori had heard from Yato what happens to a shinki who loses their master. A shinki exists in a contractual soul-bond with a god. If that bond is severed, the shinki should, by all rights, transform into an ayakashi, lose their reason, and bring harm to humans and gods. However, to prevent the emergence of "stray shinki," the Heavens had established a temporary "provisional service system." It was an emergency measure where another god would temporarily take in a masterless shinki before they became completely corrupted.
Yukine was now serving a goddess named Kagura Shin under that system. But it was nothing more than a formal protection. A shinki's power is determined by the depth of their bond with their master. Without true trust between him and his new master, his power would only wane day by day.
"Here you go, hot cocoa. I made it special, with extra marshmallows."
Mitsuko placed two large mugs on the table. White steam rose, and the sweet scent of chocolate spread through the air.
"You two take your time, now."
Without prying any further, Mitsuko retreated back behind the counter.
For a while, only silence existed between the two of them. The sound of rain pelting the window glass. The quiet chatter of an elderly couple at a corner table. The occasional hiss of steam from the espresso machine.
Yukine held his mug wrapped in both hands, bringing the cocoa to his lips bit by bit.
Hiyori watched him intently.
His fingertips were still trembling. She could see the surface of the cocoa rippling faintly inside the cup. His amber eyes swayed unsteadily, like an oil slick floating on water.
He was always so prickly, a brusque boy who would snap "screw off" or "shut up" the moment he opened his mouth. More than anything, he was the type who hated showing his weakness to anyone. And yet here he was, looking so fragile, so close to breaking.
(*He must have been pushed to his absolute limit.*)
That was what Hiyori was thinking when it happened.
Yukine murmured quietly.
"...I'm... I'm done for."
He squeezed the words out, still staring at the surface of his cocoa.
"I can barely use my power as a shinki anymore. Kagura Shin doesn't expect anything from me. All she asks me to do is run errands. Go fetch materials for ritual tools, clean the shrine office, sweep the fallen leaves from the precincts — that's all."
His voice trembled faintly.
"When I was with Yato, it was different. I was his best vessel. I even became a Blessed Vessel. I could cut down any phantom. I could guard Yato's back. And yet... now I'm..."
"Yukine."
"Kagura Shin knows about my past. How much corruption I caused as Yato's shinki, how much I made him suffer. Every time she looks at me, it's like she's looking at filth. It's like she's saying, *you're tainted*."
His fingers tightened, and the mug trembled slightly.
"I... I want to see Yato. Just one more time is enough. I want to see him and apologize. If I had been stronger, in that battle... maybe I could have protected him."
*Plip.*
A single droplet fell onto the surface of the cocoa.
Yukine was crying.
Soundlessly, just letting the tears fall quietly. His shoulders shook, he bit his lip, desperately holding back his sobs. The sight was unbearably painful. He was, in truth, a fourteen-year-old boy who put on a braver front than anyone, and who was more easily wounded than anyone.
Hiyori gently placed her hand over his, where it rested on the table.
Yukine's fingers were cold as ice.
"...Me too."
Hiyori's voice was much softer than usual, yet it carried a core of strength.
"I think about Yato every day, too. The real reason I'm taking psychology lectures at university... is because I wanted to understand things like loss and trauma with my own mind."
Yukine looked up.
A wet light wavered in his amber eyes, reflecting Hiyori.
"But you know, the more books I read, the less I understand. Why does my chest hurt this much? Why do I keep searching for his shadow? I'm not half-ayakashi anymore. I can't even sense the presence of the far shore. Even so, every time I put a coin in that offering box, every time I press my hands together — I end up calling Yato's name."
Hiyori smiled a little. The smile was transparent, somehow painful.
"I'm the same as you, Yukine. There's a hole left open, and there's nothing anywhere that can fill it. I just... live every day carrying that hole. It's not just you. I'm the same."
Yukine's lips trembled.
"...Hiyori."
His voice sounded just like a lost child's.
Hiyori gently wrapped both of her hands around his cold ones.
Inside her palms, Yukine's slender fingers trembled faintly. It was as if his cold fingertips were desperately seeking out Hiyori's warmth.
"You're not alone, Yukine."
Hiyori spoke quietly.
"Yato isn't here anymore, but that doesn't mean he's gone. He's here."
Hiyori softly placed a hand over her own chest.
"Inside me, and inside you, Yato definitely exists. The memories he left us, the words he said — all of it has become a part of us. That's why you still have some of the Blessed Vessel's power left, right? That's proof that your bond with Yato is still alive."
Yukine's eyes widened.
Then, he looked at the back of his right hand. The faintly glowing pattern — proof of the Blessed Vessel. It was still flickering there now, pulsing like a faint heartbeat.
"...Yato..."
He clenched his right hand into a tight fist.
After a long silence, Yukine lifted his head. The tears had vanished from his eyes, replaced by a strong light. His amber eyes gleamed like a beast's.
"...Hiyori. I'll protect you. You're the only one."
At the sudden declaration, Hiyori caught her breath.
"This time, I absolutely won't lose you. I won't let you disappear, like Yato did. I'll protect you, even if it costs me my life."
His voice was filled with fierce determination, and it sounded as if he was making a vow to himself.
But it was right after that.
Yukine's eyes flew open as if he'd just realized something, and then he hastily pulled his hand away from Hiyori's, turning his face aside.
"...N-no! That's not what I meant! I mean, as a comrade-in-arms! I just said I'd protect you as a comrade-in-arms!"
The tips of his ears had turned bright red.
Hiyori, too, felt a warmth spreading deep in her chest.
His clumsy true feelings. Something far more desperate than mere friendship, something that couldn't be explained away so simply. She had realized it, and now she didn't know how to react.
Hiyori just smiled so
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