Yato decided that bringing Hiyori along was definitely the worst idea he had ever come up with.
They hadn’t been standing in his client’s lawn for more than five seconds and already he could tell that he would not be enjoying the job. The client himself wasn’t the problem—he was a kindly old man who smiled often and spoke in a thin, silvery voice. Upon meeting them, he had immediately offered them snacks and kept bowing profusely, thanking them for coming over at such short notice and at a very small sum too. The man was kind and Yato liked him a lot.
His grandson on the other hand, was one of the most irritating, little pricks Yato had ever encountered. The moment the boy had been introduced to Hiyori, he wouldn’t stop staring at her or attempting to “accidentally” brush his arms against hers. It wouldn’t have bothered him as much if it weren’t for the fact that the boy’s attempts at flirting with her were extremely aggressive. He even insisted on helping the two of them decorate the lawn, even though his presence was clearly not needed.
Yato had been hired to set up the old man’s lawn for a party he was having. He hired a couple of people to do it but he wasn’t able to raise enough money to pay them and the deal fell through. The party would be a surprise for his wife who would be coming out of the hospital in a few hours and he would hate for it to be cancelled. While Yato and Hiyori dealt with the preparations, Mokomichi-san (the old man who hired them) would go and pick up his wife.
Yato would have brought Yukine along, as he usually did, but they had a massive argument the night before and Yukine had refused to come with him, no matter how hard he had pleaded or apologized. In the end, he had no choice but to ask Hiyori to help him out. God though he may be, setting up a venue for a party in just a few hours is something that even he couldn’t do alone.
“You know, I never really got your name,” the boy said as the three of them gathered boxes of party supplies from the house. He was around Hiyori’s age and about a full head taller than her, with close cropped black hair and leering, beady eyes.
“Oh, it’s Hiyori. Iki Hiyori,” she replied, completely oblivious to the seething look on Yato’s face.
“You never got my name too,” Yato said, irate at being excluded from the conversation.
“Mokomichi Tatsuo,” the boy said, ignoring Yato’s previous comment. He held his hand out and gave her a flirty smile that she didn’t seem to catch. “You don’t go to Funabashi, do you?”
“No. I go to another school,” Hiyori said. The three of them set the boxes down and started sorting through the piles of streamers and deflated balloons.
“I thought so,” Tatsuo said as he playfully nudged her shoulder. “If you schooled there, I definitely would’ve remembered someone as pretty as you.”
To his horror, Hiyori looked more flattered than embarrassed and the corners of her lips actually pulled into a bemused smile.
“I don’t go to Funabashi either!” Yato obnoxiously interjected, eager to divert Hiyori’s attention away from Tatsuo. He glared at the boy, his eyes narrowing into catlike slits.
Tatsuo’s brows ticked upward. “Why would you? You must already be in college, right? You’re like, really old.”
“I’m not that old!” Yato irritably retorted.
“Okay!” Hiyori loudly interrupted, coming in between the two boys. She pulled Yato away from Tatsuo and whispered, “Yato, what are you doing? Calm down, okay?”
“I want to go,” he abruptly told her.
Her nose scrunched up in confusion. “What?”
“I want to go!” he whined, his voice becoming petulant.
“Because! We already agreed to help Mokomichi-san,” Hiyori said. She raised a brow at him. “And besides, don’t you need the five yen?”
“Who cares about the five yen? I want to go now!” he said, his demeanour increasingly morphing into that of a five-year-old.
“Yato, we can’t. This is for his sick wife, remember? This party needs to happen. We can’t just up and leave him. Who’s going to set everything up in such short notice?” she demanded.
He sent a resentful glare in Tatsuo’s direction. “He has his shitty grandson for that.”
“Yato, not so loud—‘’
“Hiyorrriii. I don’t like him.”
“Why not? He seems like a nice person.”
“He isn’t! He’s sketchy. I don’t like him.”
“That’s no excuse. We still need to finish the job.”
“We’re finishing the job,” Hiyori sternly said.
“Fine!” Yato responded, lips pursed into a pout. He opened his mouth to say something else but before he could, Tatsuo interrupted, saying, “Hiyori-chan! Would you mind helping me unpack all these streamers?”
“He called you Hiyori-chan,” Yato hissed in outrage. “Hiyori-chan. What the hell? He doesn’t even know you that well.”
“Yato,” she said, looking tired. “Stop it. You’re overreacting.”
“I am not overreacting!”
“Yato, come on.”
She gave him a gentle smile and immediately, he could feel all of his irritation ebbing away.
“This is for that poor man’s wife. Let’s just get through this and when we’re finished, we can go out for food okay?”
He nodded, feeling so much better.
And just like that, he was irritated once again.
The two of them turned to look at Tatsuo, who was shooting Hiyori an oily smile, “I’d hate to interrupt you from your discussion but we really need to start unpacking these streamers.”
“Okay, Tatsuo-san,” Hiyori smiled as she moved towards him. Yato started to follow her but then, Tatsuo added, “Oh, but ugh…um…”
“Yato,” Yato sullenly supplied.
“Yeah. Ya-to,” Tatsuo continued, purposefully splitting up the syllables of Yato’s name in an annoying fashion. “D’you think you could go and get the party lights and fix the wiring up?”
Yato immediately bristled.
“Why can’t you get it?”
“Because I’m helping Hiyori-chan.”
Before Yato could finish, Tatsuo moved towards him and whispered, “And also, if I remember correctly, my obisan hired you which means you’re working for him. And I’m his grandson so technically you’re also working for me. So you kind of have to do what I say.”
Yato’s shoulders immediately tensed.
He was about seconds away from unleashing divine punishment on the little shit but then he remembered how desperate the old man had been and how lovingly he spoke of his wife. It wasn’t his fault that his grandson was a total prick.
“Fine. I’ll get the party lights,” he glowered. He glared at Tatsuo for a moment before turning on his heel and storming off.