It's the day before and she wonders if she'll forget them, and she promises herself she won't, but she whispers their names to herself over and over again to be safe.

Yato.

Yukine.

Yato.

Yukine.

Yato.

Yukine.

Yato.

She whispers them until her dreams echo and she's sure, she's certain she won't forget them.

I found a way to fix it, Hiyori. I know how to put your soul back in your body and keep it there.

How could she possibly forget them?

Even long after Yato fixes it - her? - and she only remembers them as a vague idea left over from a dream within a dream, sometimes she catches herself wondering whether they were both made of glass that day before she shakes herself and thinks that's an odd thought to have.

"I want to name him Yato."

She whispers it because she's still weak from the birth, and her husband has to bend down close to hear her, asking her to repeat it three more times before he finally understands and then he frowns down at her in the hospital bed, his arms cradling the baby like it's the most precious jewel in the world, and confusion draws his heavy brows together until they look like a thick black caterpillar crawling across his face.

"But… why?"

She opens her mouth to respond, and she wants to, she really does, until she realises that she doesn't know why either and her thoughts spiral around her until all she can see is a pair of piercing blue eyes.

She pretends she doesn't hear when people whisper behind her back that she's strange because she has a habit of stopping at every shrine she sees and praying to a God nobody's heard of before.

At least, she thinks he's a God.

Yato?

She's sitting in a tea shop when a jogger runs past in a dark tracksuit, dishevelled hair clinging to his head with sweat and she's out of her seat and on the street before she can even think, ready to call out a name when she stops because she doesn't know whose name she was going to shout - whisper - scream.

Her friends never let her forget it.

Somewhere deep down inside her she'd glad that they don't.

...

Yato grins at her and she wants to trust him, she wants to trust his smile that's so familiar, she does, but her instincts are screaming at her that she shouldn't do it. That she should just forget about her body and stay with him forever.

She doesn't and when she's caught between the act of remembering everything and the act of forgetting it all she hates herself because she was stupid and convinced she was right.

Her friends ask her what her favourite scent is one day and she remembers mint and rain and something distinctly else on the wind and there's a word on the tip of her tongue but she can't for the life of her remember and so she shrugs and mumbles something unintelligible.

She doesn't whisper it because she feels like she shouldn't.

She doesn't know why.

On her wedding day her husband promises to never forget her and she wants to scream that he shouldn't say that but she doesn't, because why shouldn't he?

Her first kiss (at least, she think it is) is strange because as their mouths move against each other she finds her hands confused as to why they don't find a track suit jersey beneath them and her eyes stay open the entire time hoping against hope that when he opens his, they'll be blue.

...

She's standing on the subway platform and a train rushes past, and just for a second she catches a glimpse of a phone number with the words 'Deliver God Yato - available for your every need' scrawled next to it and she's struck with the sudden impulse to dial the number before she shakes herself, telling herself that it's probably just some creep who wants nice girls to ring him.

Her train arrives and she gets on, shoving all thoughts of strange Gods no-one's ever heard of before far from her mind.

She doesn't even try to understand when she passes a shrine that afternoon and she kneels in front of it and prays to a Delivery God.

Yukine smiles at her and she thinks of glass cracking, of the moment of fragile beauty as the glass clings to its wholeness, its last moment of completeness before it shatters into a thousand pieces.

Never to be whole - perfect - beautiful - strong - again.

They make the streets flood with their tears and they whisper promises to each other all night long.

He whispers smells good against her skin and she's struck by the sudden urge to leap and kick him like her beloved Touno-sama while screaming JUNGLE SAVATE at the top of her lungs before she remembers that this is her husband and why on earth would she do that to her husband?

Very deliberately, she makes sure to hug him and hold him as gently as possible but not before telling him to never say that to her again.

She stands in front of the mirror in her wedding dress and suddenly she's struck by the feeling that something is terribly wrong with her appearance and she's turning around in circles desperately searching for something she thinks is a tail before she stops and laughs at herself for being stupid.

They name the baby after their parents.

She's staring out the window at the blue, blue, blue sky and she catches her reflection in the glass and there are tears trailing down her cheeks and she doesn't want to understand.

...

Sometimes she swears she can hear whispers around her, whispers of names and forgotten places and it terrifies her and she wants to run away with the wind towards the whisper of promises.

Even she doesn't know why.

I don't want it anymore! Don't do it! I take it back - please, Yato! YATO!

He kisses her once - because he's selfish and he can't live without her and it's killing him inside to do it - to do this - and he whispers in her ear that he'll never forget her.

And she frowns and shouts that she'll never forget him.

...

She wakes in a hospital bed with her parents peering down at her concernedly and she wonders why her mouth tastes like a name.