#floor squad

He leads her out of the alley onto a busy street, an arm still draped across her shoulders. Hiyori lets the foreign chatter wash over her, and it suddenly hits her that she has no way of understanding what they're saying. "But Yato, I don't speak French!"

"No worries! They can't see us anyway." He points to the tail swishing agitatedly behind her, and she realizes he must have just taken her spirit along for the ride. At least her desk chair is comfy enough for her poor body.

"But how will we pay? I don't have any euros."

He grins. "You just let me handle that."

They approach a cute bakery as they walk, little tarts and pastries lining the glass window. Hiyori has to peer past Yato, who is extra clingy today and still gripping her shoulder, to get a look at what they offer.

Catching her glance, Yato asks, "Wanna get something here?"

She turns her head to reply, mouth parted and words on the tip of her tongue, when she notices he has turned to face her. Noses inches apart, she's staring into ice blue eyes roiling with something like regret. "Yato?" she whispers, enthralled by how her breath on his lips makes him shiver. "Is everything okay?"

His features contort for the barest moment, like paper crinkling into a ball, before that megawatt smile is back and he releases her shoulder to open the bakery door. "Of course! After you, mademoiselle."

Uncertain, Hiyori walks inside, replaying the tortured look on Yato's face. Was it her imagination that he seemed so broken?

"What do you want? It's on me." Yato came to stand beside her, their shoulders almost touching. She catches herself wishing that he'd move close enough so that they were.

Such thoughts are too distracting, though, and she stutters, "Um, how about that little chocolate cake?"

"Your wish is my command!" With the dexterity of a cat, Yato vaults over the counter and grabs a chocolate cake, dropping some yen coins and a small note onto the counter. The store person looks bemused for a second while his eyes glaze over Yato's retreating frame, then shakes his head and helps the next customer in line.

"Yato, that's practically stealing!" Hiyori cries, trying to see how much money Yato left. He could have at least teleported to a bank to exchange money or something!

"Relax, I left more than enough. Here, let's take a seat." He gestures to a small wrought iron table just outside the bakery and plops down into one of the chairs. Once Hiyori sits, still grumbling about exchange rates, he hands her the palm-sized cake, dark chocolate ganache gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. "I hope you like it."

Tentatively, she takes a bite. It's rich and moist and perfectly dense, the slight bitterness of the dark chocolate offset by the sweetness of the cake. Humming happily, she notices Yato staring at her lips. "Would you like a bite?"

"Ah, no. I mean, it looks good, but you have a little..." He gestures to the corner of his mouth while still looking at hers.

"Oh!" she squeaks, embarrassed. Scrubbing at her face, she asks, "Did I get it?"

"No, it's right here." He leans across the table and gently smoothes his thumb across her bottom lip, the palm of his hand cupping her cheek in the process. She desperately forces down the full-body shudder threatening to rattle her out of her bones; has he always been this warm?

Pink-cheeked, he withdraws his hand, chocolate smudged thumb on display. "Got it."

"R-right, thanks." Don't blush, don't blush, don't blush.

"Hiyori? You feeling okay? Your face is all red."

Crap.

"Ah, yeah, I'm just a little stressed from all that studying," she says, forcing out a strangled laugh. "I'll be fine after a little sleep."

With a frown, Yato glances at his cell phone and wiggles his fingers, counting. "That's right! It's late back where you live! Not to worry, I'll get you back in a jiffy." Once again, he grabs her hand and flips open his phone, the metropolitan scenery around them becoming her bedroom in a flash of white light.

She still has the cake in her hand. "Are you sure you don't want any? It's really good."

His hand on her shoulder tightens briefly. "Nah, it's for you. Enjoy."

"...Okay."

There's really only another bite or so left anyway, and as she licks her lips she remembers the feeling of Yato's thumb running across them. Get it together girl; save the flustered act for when he's gone.

With a deep, cleansing breath, Hiyori falls back into her body, groaning a bit at the stiffness in her back from lying limp on the chair for an hour. She ducks into the bathroom to change into her pajamas with a small wave signifying that she'll just be a minute. Her heart beats painfully when she closes the door, that slinking fear that he'll be gone again when she reopens it whispering you're just a human; why would a god bother staying friends with you?

But there he is when she walks back in, same goofy smile on his face, and she lets herself relax. He's proven time and time again that he's not going anywhere; maybe she can start to believe it.

A giant yawn suddenly cracks her jaw with its intensity, and she's barely closed her mouth before Yato springs to her bed to pull back the covers. "Sounds like it's time for sleep," he says, fluffing her pillows and patting the mattress enticingly.

Turning the lights out on her way, Hiyori crawls into bed and pulls the covers up to her chin. As her eyes adjust to the darkness, she can make out Yato's form close to the edge of the bed. He usually leaves once she's under the covers, and she's about to ask him about it when he murmurs, "D'you mind if I stay with you 'til you fall asleep?"

She blinks. "Um, okay. Are you sure everything's all right?"

His face is cloaked in shadow, but his voice is as strong as ever. "Yeah, completely fine. I just wanted to spend a little extra time with you today is all."

Something about his behavior today still makes her uneasy, but as another yawn stretches her face, she resolves to ask him about it later. There's always tomorrow.

A little while later, as she's just about to fall asleep, Hiyori registers a presence near her head. Cracking an eye open, she sees it's Yato, eyes glistening in the moonlight as he hovers above her. Before she can collect her thoughts to ask him what he's doing, he leans in and kisses the corner of her mouth, lips soft and trembling.

"I missed some chocolate," he whispers, tracing the curve of her cheek with a hand. But then he's gone, the quiet thump of her window closing somehow unsettling.

While her exhausted brain struggles to process that he just kissed her, the rest of her floats on a sea of warmth and tenderness, that simple action clarifying her own affectionate feelings for him. She considers calling him, asking him if it meant what she thinks it means, but decides against it. Her head is still spinning, and besides:

There's always tomorrow.

It was only a matter of time.

Hopping out of Hiyori's window, Yato lands at the base of the nearby tree. Goodbyes have never been his strong suit, but he thinks he pulled this one off all right. He brushes his lips with a finger, trying to memorize the warmth and taste of her lips.

Not that he'll have memories for long.

As expected, Kazuma is waiting for him in front of Hiyori's house, looking haggard under the street light with smudged glasses and dark circles under his eyes.

"Did you get to do everything you wanted?" he asks, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. "This was the longest Viina could push back the sentencing." His hand falls to his side, defeated. "I didn't think they'd actually convict you. The murder of the Ma clan was centuries ago, and Viina testified on your behalf-!"

Yato interrupts him with a snort. "Heaven has been looking for an excuse to get rid of me for eons. Makes sense they'd take advantage of me waltzing right into Takamagahara."

Kazuma huffs frustratedly. "Still, if you were to go into hiding-"

"They'll go after Yukine. Or Kofuku or Daikoku for housing a 'known criminal.' Hell, they might even try to get Hiyori to pull me back out. No, I can't let anyone else get dragged into this."

It's like Yato's words physically wound Kazuma; the hafuri visibly crumples. He takes a deep breath, eyes wet, and extends his hand. "The execution is at dawn. Heaven's guard will come for you then. Goodbye, Yato."

Yato stares at Kazuma's outstretched hand and the finality of the gesture nearly shatters him. "Goodbye, Kazuma. May you protect Bishamon for many centuries. And," he whispers, voice breaking for the first time, "Hiyori and Yukine, too."

Kazuma's hand is firm around his. "Of course. You have my word."

With nothing more to say, Bishamon's guidepost leaves Yato alone with his thoughts. The moment Kazuma is gone, Yato lets the first tear slip from his eyes and collapses to the ground, shuddering with the force of his sobs. It's really, truly over, and between his gasping breaths he lays out a small pallet and a pillow under the tree by Hiyori's room. If he's going to spend his last night anywhere, it's going to be near her.

Later, much later, as the first rays of the sun begin to peek over the horizon and Yato has cried himself into blessed numbness, he reaches for his phone. One more time. He needs to hear her voice just one more time. It's only when he hears ringing in his ear that he realizes he's already dialed her number. Three, four, five rings, and then:

"Hello? Yato..?"

His phone slides onto the pillow next to him, its bright screen seeming dimmer by the minute as the sun rises.

A thousand thoughts swirl through his mind, a thousand ways to say I love you and I'll miss you and I'm sorry I couldn't stay with you, but he can't even manage a single sound. Quiet tears slide down his cheeks as he listens to her breathing on the line before she cuts it, staring at the first sliver of the sun on the horizon.