#Noragami!AU | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yatorihell · 2 months ago

Text

In The Darkness Chapter 88 - The Final Stand

Noragami x Harry Potter AU

Summary: The penultimate chapter of the Noragami x Harry Potter AU

Word count: 5,517

Read on AO3

First Chapter | Previous Chapter

Yato was alone. He lay facedown, listening to the silence for a long time, until he opened his eyes.

He lay in a bright mist, the bright white of a muggle hospital that Hiyori would have known, that burned his eyes. It reflected off the shrouded surfaces around him as if he were muffled in a cloud. Yato sat up. He appeared unscathed. A noise reached him through the mist surrounding him; it was a pitiful whine.

He stood up, looking around. A great domed glass roof glittered high above him in sunlight. All was hushed and still, except for gasping noises coming from somewhere ahead. Yato turned slowly on the spot, and his surroundings seemed to materialise before his eyes. A wide-open space, bright and clean, a hall larger by far than the Great Hall, with that clear, domed glass ceiling. It was quite empty. He was the only person there, except for…

He recoiled. He had spotted the thing that was making the noises. It had the form of a decrepit man curled on the ground, head separated from his body, and he lay shuddering under a seat; forgotten, clinging to life.

"You cannot help.”

Yato spun around. Tenjin was walking toward him, wearing sweeping robes of white and silver.

"Yato," Tenjin spread his arms wide. "You brave, brave boy. Walk with me.”

Stunned, Yato followed as Tenjin strode away from where the body lay whimpering, leading him to a bench that Yato had not previously noticed, set some distance away under that high sparkling ceiling. Tenjin sat down, and Yato fell next to him, staring at his old headmaster's face. Everything was as he had remembered it. And yet…

"You died," said Yato.

"Indeed,' said Tenjin matter-of-factly.

"Then… I'm dead too?"

"Ah," said Tenjin, smiling still more broadly. "What do you think?”

They looked at each other, the old man still beaming.

"Not?" repeated Yato.

"Not,” Tenjin agreed.

"But,” Yato said slowly. "But I should have died - I didn't defend myself! I let him kill me!"

"And that will have made all the difference," Tenjin replied. Happiness seemed to radiate from him like light, like untamed fire: Yato had never seen the man so utterly content.

"Explain," said Yato.

"But you already know,'" said Tenjin.

"I let him kill me,' Yato clarified hesitantly. "Didn't I?"

"You did,'" said Tenjin. “I expect you now realize that you and the Sorcerer have been connected by something other than fate.”

Yato frowned. "So the part of his soul that was in me… is gone?”

"Oh yes,” said Tenjin. "Yes, he destroyed it. Your soul is whole, and completely your own, Yato.”

"But then...” Yato glanced over his shoulder to where the small, maimed creature trembled under the chair. "What is that, Professor?”

"Something that is beyond help," said Tenjin.

'But if the Sorcerer used the Killing Curse," Yato started again. “How can I be alive?”

"I think you know,' said Tenjin. "Think back. Remember what he did, in his ignorance, in his greed and his cruelty.”

Yato thought. He let his gaze drift over his surroundings. Then the answer rose to his lips easily, without effort. “He bound me to him,” Yato said slowly. His eyes widened. “No… He bound us. Me and Nora.”

“Indeed,” Tenjin replied.

“But,” Yato faltered. “Then Nora…”

Tenjin looked somber. Father would have to turn his wand on Nora in order to free her from the same curse; but he would never do that, not when he had done so to Yato. She was the remaining Horcrux, one of his last remaining ties to the world.

"I live... while he lives? But I thought… I thought we both had to die? Or is it the same thing?" Yato was distracted by the whimpering of the agonized creature behind them and glanced back at it yet again. "Are you sure we can't do anything?"

"There is no help possible.”

“Then explain,” said Yato, and Tenjin smiled.

"You were a Horcrux, Yato. He had rendered his soul so unstable that it broke apart when he committed those acts of unspeakable evil. And his knowledge was woefully incomplete. That which the Sorcerer does not value, he takes no trouble to comprehend. Tales of love, loyalty, and innocence, the Sorcerer knows and understands nothing. That they all have a power beyond his own, a power beyond the reach of any magic, is a truth he has never grasped.”

Tenjin looked at Yato.

"He took your soul believing it would strengthen him. He took into his body a tiny part of the enchantment, and so you live, and so does the Sorcerer's one last hope for himself."

Yato stared at him. “And you knew this? You knew all along?”

Tenjin chuckled dryly. "I guessed. But my guesses have usually been good.”

They sat in silence for what seemed like a long time, interspersed with the creature's whimpers.

"What you must understand, Yato, is that you and the Sorcerer have journeyed together into realms of magic hitherto unknown and untested. Having ensured this two-fold connection, he entwined your destinies together more securely than ever two wizards were joined shared.”

Tenjin turned to Yato. "He was more afraid than you were that night, Yato. You had accepted, even embraced, the possibility of death, something the Sorcerer has never been able to do.”

Yato sat in thought for a long time. “He killed me with your wand.”

"He failed to kill you with my wand,” Tenjin corrected Yato. “I think we can agree that you are not dead.”

“I feel alive," said Yato, looking down at his clean, unblemished hands. "Where are we, exactly?"

"Well, I was going to ask you that," said Tenjin, looking around. "Where would you say that we are?”

Yato did not know until Tenjin had asked. Now, however, he found that he knew exactly where they were. "It looks like King's Cross Station. Except a lot cleaner and empty, and there are no trains.”

Yato and Tenjin sat without talking for the longest time yet. The realisation of what would happen next settled gradually over Yato in the long minutes, like softly falling snow.

Yato looked askance, feeling guilt for the conflicting feelings he had; to stay here in the quiet and calm, or to face what came next. "I've got to go back, haven't I?"

"That is up to you.”

Yato glanced at Tenjin. "I've got a choice?"

"Oh yes.” Tenjin smiled at him. "We are in King's Cross, you say? I think that if you decided not to go back, you would be able to, let's say, board a train.”

"And where would it take me?”

"Foward," said Tenjin simply. Silence again. “I think that if you choose to return, there is a chance that he may be finished for good. I cannot promise it. But I know this, Yato, that you have less to fear from returning here than he does.”

Yato glanced again at the headless body that trembled and choked in the shadow beneath the distant chair.

“And Nora is still alive?”

“Yes.”

Yato swallowed hard. “And I have no way of freeing her? Not in the same way I was?”

Tenjin looked at Yato sorrowfully. “You know what must be done.”

“But how?” Yato asked - not just for the physical act, but the emotional transgression that would have to happen to defeat the Sorcerer.

Tenjin rose to his feet, and Yato jumped up beside him. “Help will always be given at Hogwarts, Yato. To those who ask for it.”

Tenjin turned and faced Yato, hands tucked into the long sleeves of his shiny robes. "Do not pity the dead Yato. Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love.”

Yato nodded and sighed. Leaving this place would not be nearly as hard as walking into the forest had been. It was warm and light and peaceful here, and he knew that he was heading back to pain and fear and more loss.

"Professor," said Yato, and Tenjin stopped in his tracks. "Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?"

Tenjin beamed at him, and his voice sounded loud and strong in Yato's ears even though the bright mist was descending again, obscuring his figure

"Of course it is happening inside your head, Yato, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?”

The smell of the forest filled his nostrils.

He could feel the cold hard ground beneath his cheek. Every inch of him ached, and the place where the Killing Curse had hit him felt tender on his chest where his wand nudged into his skin. He remained still, with his left arm bent out at an awkward angle and his eyes closed.

He had expected to hear cheers of celebration at his death, but instead rustling and murmurs filled the air.

"My Lord…” Oshi's voice said softly. Yato did not dare open his eyes. “My Lord-.”

"Enough,” said the Sorcerer's voice.

More footsteps. Several people were backing away from the same spot. Desperate to see what was happening and why, Yato cracked his eyes open by a millimeter. The Sorcerer seemed to be getting to his feet. Deatheaters were hurrying away from him, returning to the crowd lining the clearing. Oshi alone remained behind, kneeling beside her master.

Yato closed his eyes again and considered what he had seen. The Deatheaters had been huddled around the Sorcerer, who seemed to have fallen to the ground. Something had happened when he had hit Yato with the Killing Curse. Had the Sorcerer too collapsed? It seemed like it. And both of them had fallen briefly unconscious and both of them had now returned.

"My Lord, let me-,” Oshi cooed.

“Leave me," said the Sorcerer coldly, and though he could not see it, Yato pictured Oshi withdrawing to herself, rebuffed by his callousness. "My son… Is he dead?"

There was complete silence in the clearing. Nobody approached Yato, but he felt their concentrated gaze; it seemed to press him harder into the ground, and he was terrified a finger or an eyelid

might twitch.

"Daughter," said the Sorcerer. "Tell me he is dead.”

Yato did not know who had been sent to verify. He could only lie there, with his heart thumping traitorously, waiting that the Sorcerer's suspicions that all had not gone to plan were true.

There was a sound of scales against dried leaves and bracken, then hands - softer than he had been expecting - touched Yato's face, crept beneath his shirt, down to his chest, and felt his heart. He could hear the girl's fast breathing, her short hair tickled his face. He knew that she could feel the steady pounding of life against his ribs.

“He is dead!" Nora called to the watchers.

And now they shouted, yelled in triumph and stamped their feet, and through his eyelids, Yato saw bursts of red and silver light shoot into the air in celebration.

“You see?" the Sorcerer declared over the ruckus. "Yaboku is dead by my hand, and no man alive can threaten me now!”

“Now," said the Sorcerer, "we go to the castle and show them what has become of their hero. Who shall drag the body?”

There was a fresh outbreak of laughter, and Yato waited with shallow breaths.

"You carry him," the Sorcerer said. "Pick up your student.”

Yato could feel strong arms trembling as Kuraha cradled Yato in his arms, and Yato did not dare give away his position.

"Move,'" said the Sorcerer, and Kuraha stumbled forward, forcing his way through the close-growing trees, back through the forest.

Branches caught at Yato's hair and tracksuit, but he lay limp, his mouth lolling open, his eyes shut, and in the darkness, while the Deatheaters crowed all around them, nobody looked to see whether a pulse beat in his exposed neck.

The two giants crashed along behind the Deatheaters; Yato could hear trees creaking and falling as they passed. They made so much noise that birds took shrieking into the sky, and even the jeers of the Deatheaters were drowned. The victorious procession marched on toward the open ground, and after a while Yato could tell, by the lightening of the darkness through his closed eyelids, that the trees were beginning to thin. A chill settled over them and Yato heard the rasping breath of the Dementors that patrolled the outer trees. They would not affect him now.

A little later, Yato sensed, by a freshening of the air, that they had reached the edge of the forest.

"Come,' said the Sorcerer, and Yato heard him move ahead, and Kuraha was forced to follow.

Now Yato opened his eyes a fraction and saw the Sorcerer striding in front of them, Nagini slithering by his side. But Yato had no possibility of extracting the wand concealed under his jacket without being noticed by the Deatheaters, who marched on either side of them through the slowly lightening darkness.

Yato shut his eyes tight again. He knew that they were approaching the castle and strained his ears to distinguish, above the gleeful voices of the Deatheaters and their tramping footsteps, signs of life from those within.

"Stop.”

The Deatheaters came to a halt: Yato heard them spreading out into the courtyard at the open front doors of the school. He could see, even through his closed lids, the reddish glow that meant light streamed upon him from the entrance hall.

He waited. Footsteps kicked at the rubble as Hogwarts’ defenders came to meet their fate. Any moment now, the people for whom he had tried to die would see him, lying apparently dead, in Kuraha’s arms.

“Yukine, who is that in Kuraha’s arms?” Yato heard the question from the distance, but no answer came from his friend.

“Yaboku… is dead!” the Sorcerer cried.

“NO!” The scream was the more terrible because he had never expected or dreamed that Hiyori could make such a sound.

He heard another woman laughing nearby, and knew that Oshi gloried in the despair wrought on the faces that amassed from the hall. He squinted again for a single second and saw the open doorway filling with people, as the survivors of the battle came out onto the front steps to face their vanquishers and see the truth of Yato's death for themselves. He saw the Sorcerer standing a little in front of him, stroking Nagini's head with a single finger. He closed his eyes again.

“No! No! Yato! Yato!”

The voices rose, Kazuma's and Bishamon’s among them, and Yato wanted nothing more than to call back. Yet he made himself lie silent, and their cries acted like a trigger; the crowd of survivors took up the cause, screaming and yelling abuse at the Deatheaters, until -

"SILENCE!" cried the Sorcerer, and there was a bang and a flash of bright light, and silence was forced upon them all.

"You see?* said the Sorcerer. Yato heard him striding backward and forward. "Yaboku is dead! Do you understand now? He was nothing but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

The Sorcerer paced in front of him, and the serpent hissed.

“Anyone who continues to resist - man, woman, or child - will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family.”

The pacing stopped, and Yato heard Nagini's heavy body push through the debris toward her master.

“Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Come forward and join us, or die.”

There was a long silence, broken only by a smattering of murmurs when slow, uneven steps - someone who was injured, Yato noted - made their way to the front of the crowd.

“And who might you be?” the Sorcerer asked

There was a pause. “Bishamonten.”

Yato cracked his eyes open. Bishamon’s long blonde hair was dirtied and tangled, a long streak of blood running from her temple down to her chin. In her hands she clutched the Sorting Hat, dusty and worse for wear than Yato had ever seen.

“A pureblood. All the better for y-.”

“I have something to say.”

The Sorcerer prickled at the interruption, his robes swishing at his feet as he stalked back and forth. Silence settled over them.

“It doesn't matter that Yato is gone,” Bishamon said. Her voice was an uncharacteristically vulnerable echo as she looked around at her friends. “People die every day. Friends, family... We lost Yato tonight. He's still with us. In here.”

Bishamon brought a hand to her heart, the Sorting Hat still in the other. “All of them. They didn't die in vain… but you will.”

Bishamon turned, renewed fire in her eyes as she sneered at the Sorcerer. Yato's eyes fluttered to the Sorcerer, and he was taken aback to see a wide grin splitting his mouth at Bishamon's stirring speech, a manic laugh building in his throat.

“Because you're wrong! Yato's heart did beat for us. For all of us! It's not over!”

And then many things happened at the same moment.

Bishamon thrust her hand into the Sorting Hat and pulled forth the Sword of Gryffindor. There was a roar from the boundary of the school behind Yato and the ensemble of Deatheaters, who broke rank at the thundering of hooves stampeding towards them. Yato threw himself out of Kuraha’s arms and drew his wand, stumbling to find his footing as the shocked gasps from friend and foe alike filled the air. The Sorcerer whirled on Yato, wand lax in his hand and a look of utter shock on his face. Nagini drew up alongside him with a hiss.

“Confringo!” Yato cried, a bolt of light zipping out of his wand at what he had up until now was the final Horcrux. Some unseen shield protected the serpent, the spell richoeting into the crowd of prone Deatheaters behind who hadn’t the chance to protect themselves.

Yato threw himself through one of the many archways surrounding the castle, avoiding the shattering stone as the Sorcerer screamed curses at him. He could hear the battle pick up behind him as the Deatheaters surged forward, and Hogwarts in turn, renewed by the sight of their champion alive and breathing, fought back.

Yato had to lure the Sorcerer away from Nagini, to leave her unprotected so that Yukine and Hiyori could do what he could not. He threw himself into the main entrance of the castle, all but crashing in Yukine and Hiyori in a reunion he did not think he would see until they were old and grey.

Yato gripped Yukine and Hiyori by the shoulders, out of breath and clutching his wand. “Kill the snake, there's another, it's him - it's not him, it's my father,” Yato rushed.

“What are you talking about-?” Yukine urged, but Yato shook his head in response; there was no time to explain.

“That body is the final shield. There’s one more Horcrux. Lure Nagini in, kill her.”

Yato pushed Yukine and Hiyori further into the bowels of the castle, tripping over broken wood and shattered statues, the corners of walls so obliterated they gave almost no cover to the onslaught of Deatheaters washing their way into the castle. They were separated by the tide of people retreating, Yato taking the stairs whereas Yukine and Hiyori were pushed into the Grand Hall in a flurry of elbows and spells, dragged away from where they needed to be and divided by a wall of dueling witches and wizards.

The Sorcerer had not appeared in the castle. Instead, Oshi led the forefront of the assault, hair whipping around her as if she had brought a storm on her heels. She flung curses at the wizards closest to her, ignorant of her comrades behind her as she slashed her wand wildly at anyone who dared face her.

A bolt of light grazed her cheek, leaving a burning mark and the singed smell of hair.

Oshi spun on the spot, roaring at the sight of her new challenger, and Hiyori’s breath caught in her throat. Kofuku, badly injured and pushing her students behind her and out of the way.

With a swipe of her wand, she began to duel. Hiyori and Yukine watched with terror and elation as Kofuku's wand slashed and twirled, and Oshi smile faltered and became a snarl. Jets of light flew from both wands, the floor around the witches' feet became hot and cracked; both women were fighting to kill.

'No!" Kofuku cried as a few students ran forward, trying to come to her aid. "Get back! Get back! She is mine!"

Hundreds of people now lined the walls, watching the two fight, interspersed with the occasional Deatheater taking a chance to hurl a curse at an unsuspecting innocent who hadn't the time to defend themselves.

"What will happen to your child when I've killed you?" taunted Oshi, mad as her master, as Kofuku’s curses danced around her. “When Daddy will be going the same way as Mummy?"

Oshi laughed, Kofuku screamed, and Yukine knew what was going to happen before it did.

Kofuku’s curse soared beneath Oshi's outstretched arm and hit her squarely in the chest, directly over her heart. Oshi's gloating smile froze, her eyes seemed to bulge.

For the tiniest space of time, she understood what had happened, right before she exploded into a fine ash that was blown away on the wind in a second.

Yato took the Grand Staircase two steps at a time, breathing hard and trying not to choke on the thick smog of dust and smoke that wrapped around him. He kept his wand level, eyes searching in the darkness for the slightest movement. A burst of green light erupted from his left, and Yato spun and parried the blow. Another came from in front, then to his right, and then above from an unknown source, until finally the Sorcerer appeared in a wisp of black smoke and a thundering charge of green charged at Yato.

Yato parried the blow, a stream of red meeting the Sorcerer's curse in a shower of sparks that battled for dominance. The Sorcerer forced Yato back, advancing up the stairs swiftly with Nagini on his heels, fangs bared.

Suddenly the Sorcerer disappeared and Yato spun just in time to block the curse aimed at his back. His wand struggled in his defence as Yato was now forced down into the waiting jaws of his once saviour. His eyes flickered up, and in the brief respite between attacks Yato aimed at the ceiling and brought it down between himself and the Sorcerer. Yato struggled to his feet and threw himself over the banister before Nagini could lunge. Yato landed and rolled painfully onto glass and brick, but his reprieve was shortlived as the ground exploded in his path and plunged into nothingness below.

Smoke wrapped around him, black and suffocating, arresting his fall and dragging him upside down and through the air until he didn't know which was up.

Yato was thrown forth into the light, staggering against a shattered parapet high above the viaduct and the main courtyard of the castle. Bodies littered the ground and heaps of rubble marked the barricades that fighters used for protection. The fighting had moved inside, the distant shouts obscuring the horrors which were occurring inside.

Yato clung to the wall, fisting his wand as he fought the vertigo of being thrown around and dropped so suddenly at the edge of a dizzying height as the Sorcerer materialised in front of him. He took Yato’s face roughly in his hand, studying him closely.

“Why do you live?” the Sorcerer asked softly, a hint of mystified sadness in his voice that Yato didn't know how to feel about. This man - this boy - did not possess his father’s face. And yet he knew the truth.

“Because I have something worth living for," Yato said. “Let’s finish this Father, the way we started. Together.”

Yato grabbed the Sorcerer’s shoulders and threw himself over the precipice.

The Sorcerer saved them, warping around Yato in a haze of black that left only his face in his, snarling and snapping as Yato fought for control. They soared over the castle, dislodging tiles and smashing through burnt rafters, narrowly missing the peaks of turrets and careening past the vast walls he called home.

The ground suddenly rushed up to meet Yato, and his body jerked and was thrown like a ragdoll as the Sorcerer freed himself from his grasp and landed across the ruined courtyard in a battered, smoking haze.

Yato coughed and dragged himself up onto his stomach. His wand lay a few feet in front of him, and just beyond that, the Sorcerer was coming to, realising the situation. The last duel.

Yato scrambled forward, dragging himself over stone and blood to wrap his hand around his wand and rise to his feet in the same moment the Sorcerer mirrored his action. The courtyard thundered with the clash of magic, powerful red meeting deadly green in a battle that would decide the fate of the world. Yato staggered against the weight of the magic pushing against him. From the corner of his eye he saw Yukine and Hiyori, defenseless and pushed back against the broken arch of the castle, Nagini’s fangs bared and reared back in a fatal strike.

Yato’s eyes widened. It could not be heard over the roar of the oncoming crowd or the sounds of the clashing and yet it seemed to draw every eye in the battle.

In one swift, fluid motion, Bishamon drew the Sword of Gryffindor in a broad upward stroke and sliced off the great snake's head, which spun high into the air, gleaming in the light flooding from the entrance hall, and the Sorcerer's mouth was open in a scream of fury that nobody could hear, and Nora’s body thudded to the ground at his feet.

The Sorcerer’s magic broke, and Yato’s curse struck him in his heart.

The Sorcerer collapsed to the ground beside Nora’s body. A wave of sickness washed over Yato. He didn't want to believe it - he couldn't fully believe it - until the evidence was lying before him. Nora - his obedient, shadow of a sister - had been forced to be a curse all their lives.

There was movement beside her, in the cooling corpse of a possessed boy who also had no choice in his fate. Yato’s father emerged from the ashes.

His black hair and dark eyes met Yato across the battlefield, wrought with pain and anguish as he looked from his daughter to his son. His lifelines. Destroyed.

A red-gold glow burst suddenly across the enchanted sky above them as an edge of dazzling sun appeared over the sill of the nearest half-shattered window. The light hit both of their faces at the same time so that the Sorcerer's was suddenly cast in the flaming hues of a phoenix.

Yato heard the cry as he too yelled his best hope to the heavens, pointing his wand.

"Avada Kedavra!”

"Expelliarmus!"

The bang was like cannon fire, and the golden flames that erupted between them, at the dead center of the circle they had been treading, marked the point where the spells collided.

The Sorcerer's green jet met his own spell and the Elder wand flew in a high arch akin to the head of his beloved daughter, and landed in its rightful master's hand.

Yato stared into the eyes of his father, seeing the realisation wash over them; he knew the truth now. He knew why the Elder Wand disobeyed him the same way he did. It would never hurt Yato, a fatal flaw in the plan that protected Yato even now.

He hit the flagstones with a mundane finality, his body feeble and limp. The Sorcerer was dead, killed by his rebounding curse, and Yato stood with two wands in his hand, staring down at his father's husk.

One shivering second of silence, the shock of the moment suspended.

And then the tumult broke. The screams and the cheers and the roars of the watchers rent the air. The fierce new sun dazzled the windows as they thundered toward him, and the first to reach him were Yukine and Hiyori, and it was their arms that were wrapped around him, their incomprehensible shouts that deafened him. Then Bishamon, Kazuma, and Kofuku were there, and then Daikoku, and Yato could not hear a word that anyone was shouting, nor tell whose hands were seizing him, pulling him trying to hug some part of him, hundreds of them pressing in.

All to thank the living Horcrux.

The sun rose steadily over Hogwarts, and the Great Hall blazed with life and light. Yato was an indispensable part of the mingled outpourings of celebration and grief, pain and joy.

They wanted him there with them, their leader and symbol, their savior and their guide, and that he had not slept, that he craved the company of only a few of them, seemed to occur to no one. He must speak to the bereaved, clasp their hands, witness their tears, receive their thanks, hear the news now creeping in from every quarter as the morning drew on; that the Imperiused up and down the country had come back to themselves, that Deatheaters were fleeing or else

being captured, that the innocent of Azkaban were being released a that very moment, and that Amaterasu had returned as Minster of Magic.

They moved his Father's and Nora's body and laid them in a chamber off the Hall, away from the bodies of the righteous and grieving families. The bodies of Deatheaters still littered the castle, though effort was being made to find them some resting place for the meanwhile.

After a while, exhausted and drained, Yato found himself sitting on a bench beside Kazuma, his glasses miraculously intact. “I'd want some peace and quiet, if it were me," he said.

"I’d love some," Yato replied.

"I’ll distract them all," Kazuma said as Yato pulled the Invisibility Cloak over his head.

Now Yato could move through the Hall without interference. He saw Bishamon, the sword of Gryffindor lying beside her plate as she ate, surrounded by a knot of fervent admirers. Everywhere he looked he saw families reunited or torn apart, and finally, he saw the two whose company he craved most.

"It's me," he muttered, crouching down between them. "Will you come with me?"

They stood up at once, and together he, Yukine, and Hiyori left the Great Hall. Great chunks were missing from the marble staircase, part of the balustrade gone, and rubble and bloodstains

puddled every few steps they took.

Yato shucked off the cloak as they ventured through the courtyard, past the pool of blood that marked the Sorcerer’s final stand.

They remained silent. The pain of losing so many people pierced Yato like a physical wound every few steps. Most of all he felt the most relief, and a longing to sleep forever. But first, he owed an explanation to Yukine and Hiyori.

Painstakingly he recounted what he had seen in the Pensieve - the truth that the Sorcerer was his father - and what had happened in the forest, and they had not even begun to express all their shock and amazement when at last they arrived at the viaduct to which they had been walking, though none of them had mentioned their destination.

"And then there's this.” Yato held up the Elder Wand, and Yukine and Hiyori looked at it with a reverence that, even in his befuddled and sleep-deprived state, Yato did not like to see.

“Why didn't it work for him? The Elder Wand?” Hiyori asked.

“It answers to somebody else,” Yato said. He stepped up onto the broken bridge. “When he killed Kuguha, he thought the wand would become his. But the thing is…” Yato trailed off. “The wand never belongs to Kuguha.”

“It was Nora who disarmed Tenjin that night in the Astronomy tower. From that moment on, the wand answered her. Until, the other night when I disarmed Nora. At our Father's house.”

“So, that means…”

“It's mine!” Yato said incredulously, looking down at the innocuous wand.

“What should we do with it?” Yukine asked.

“We?” Hiyori echoed.

Yukine shrugged. “Just saying, that's the Elder Wand. The most powerful wand in the world. With that, he'll be invincible.”

"I don't want it,' said Yato. Men had killed and died for its power, and now Yato denied it.

“What?” said Yukine loudly. "Are you mad?”

"I know it's powerful," said Yato wearily. “But I was happier with mine. So...”

"Are you sure?" said Yukine. There was the faintest trace of longing in his voice as he looked at the Elder Wand, an echo of past admirers.

"I think Yato's right," said Hiyori quietly.

"That wand's more trouble than it's worth,' said Yato. "And quite honestly…”

Yato looked down at the wand and snapped it in two parts that fell into the chasm below with silent finality.