Gift (Yato x Reader)

One more snip.

                            One more loop.

                                                      One more tape.

The wrapped box lands softly on the counter, while you tilt the bow yet once again to a particular angle that only you seem to see.

A colleague giggles at the uncanny habit, and you apologize out of reflex, drawing out more chuckles including that of a very pleased customer. Bills are handed in exchange of the last box, more than what was expected, and you bow down in gratitude, strands effectively hiding the tinge on your cheeks.

You watch the mother walk away, the box carefully tucked on her arm, and you remember how her face had lightened up when you handed her the pretty plush doll, its dress adorned with frills of pastel pink and powder blue. She had told you that her daughter will definitely love it, that it was the perfect birthday gift, and you feel empathy suddenly dissolve into sadness. And so in turn you offer to wrap the gift for free, an effective distraction you later realized -

- for the unexpected trigger.

It cannot be avoided. That you knew too well. You had been acquainted with such sudden 'outbursts', being a wanderer of the Far Shore for quite some time. Memories had been something you have tried to suppress, its fragments are like spontaneous glass shards that cuts so deep when stepped on. It was hard, truly, dealing with it alone, until someone found you and offered you a home, putting an end to your aimless sojourn.

Said idiot was now waiting for you at the gift shop's doorstep, admiring his handiwork spray painted across the pavement, composed of digits only intended eyes can see.

He greets you with unwavering enthusiasm as you step out of the store, and you ask him where Yukine is. He tells you that he's back at home with Hiyori, busy preparing for something and he suddenly slaps his mouth shut, quickly diverting the topic by asking how your first day of work went. Already used with his antics, you decide to just answer his question and ask the other Regalia later. You tell him that it went smoothly, that you enjoyed it quite a lot, and that you will have to thank Hiyori later for referring you in. You move on into teasing him, watching his face shift into different shades of embarassment and despair as you went on, even threatening the once feared war god with labor charges for what you refer to as his gravely misleading employment contract.

What came next were stories about his day's 'appointments', and you try hard not to drown in the overwhelming ocean hues. Seconds of silence ensues as you contemplate about sharing your encounter with you last customer, until you find your hand enclosed with his own, a pleasant warmth creeping its way up from your palm, to your pulse -

- and to your heart.

"It's okay [First], you don't have to tell me, especially if it causes you pain.

And it is suddenly hard to breathe, and you try not to shake as you push back the unwanted tears. He knows. He had always known. Perhaps the contract had something to do with it, but you cannot care less, and for that, you'll forever be thankful to him -

- because you no longer have to deal with it alone.

He tugs your hand gently, and you show him your brave face. He smiles at your futile attempt but helps you nonetheless, as he pokes at your cheek, pushing it up for the intended smile.

"Cheer up [First], it's a special day after all."

And before you can ask why, he hands you a small velvet box, in which you pull out the favored trinket bearing a luminous blue gem. A whispered 'Thank You' slips past your lips, but not without shooting him a questioning look.

"Hey wait! I bought it of course! Why do you think such lowly of your master?"

You are about to come up with a witty answer when you are cut abrupt by your stomach grunting. He grins at your tinged cheeks like a crazed feline and runs away, and you hear him call out as you give chase.

"Let's go [First]! The hotpot's waiting!

---

"Hiyori, do you know what this special day is for?

You finally managed to ask, as the two of you watch the full moon reappear behind the clouds. Nearby, the drunk god lies sprawled on the floor, chanting in incoherent syllables you're pretty sure was his name.

"Oh? You do not remember?

You stare at the god again, as if he is the clue, noting how the 5 yens inside the sake bottle he's now cuddling with had decreased greatly.

"No."

The brunette chuckles, while you cannot, guilt taking over for forgetting something so important. You are about to apologize, but she cuts you in time with what she said next.

Today was exactly a year, after you, [First], became Yato's regalia."

Tears threaten to spill again, but it seems Hiyori too has a knack in interrupting moments.

And he thinks it'd be nice to thank you, you know, for sticking with him this long.

.
.
.

Of course.

.
.
.

There's no way you'll leave him now.

Stupid, idiot, trash god.