If anyone could actually see them, Hiyori was sure that there would be whispering and gawking at the way she was so desperately trying to claw her way out of Yato’s death grip on her wrist. The heels of her shoes scuffed along the ground, nails dug into his fair skin, but Yato’s boots were unrelenting as both feet carried both teens forward until he found an alley that gave them even more privacy than near-invisibility did.
“What’s your problem?!” she snapped the moment his grip loosened, fingers massaging her now red and sore wrist. Peering around the alley, Hiyori hardly had enough time to contemplate if she could still go back to school to find the poor boy there that was now in the company of only her comatose body.
“I just saved you, you know!”
“Ha?! By ruining my chance for fate?!” she bristled at him.
For the first time in her life, Hiyori had been properly confessed to and about to be asked out. Her cheeks were as pink as her eyes as she stared at the boy in front of her, someone from her class that she’d spoken to a few times but never thought their relationship went beyond just acquaintances.
But just when he was about to actually ask her, Hiyori found herself slipping away from her body, just watching it collapse to the ground and his freaked out expression. It took just a second to recognize the smell and back of the jersey she saw leading her away, stumbling after him.
Hiyori had seen Yato at nearly every stage on the spectrum of emotions, but she couldn’t quite deduce the expression that laced his features at the moment. He seemed strangled behind anger, trying to stifle something; the way he bit his lip made it seem like words threatened to tumble out and his eyes just stared incredulously. Fists were clenched and as she stared, his cheeks were heating up, body trembling.
He looked like a volcano about to erupt, really, and so Hiyori took a step back.
“FATE?!” he repeated again. “You think him askin’ you out is fate?!”
“You think some kid that’s been likin’ you ever since your first year of middle school is fate?! That he stays behind and watches you, finally gets his nerve up to talk to you is fate?! Is that what you really think?!”
Hiyori stared at him. “A-ah…”
“You’re not even supposed to see me, you know! How many half-phantoms do you know?! And what are the chances of you bumping into me, someone that you saw only because you’d stopped to look at some poster of some guy—”
“—don’t say Tono-sama is just some guy—!!”
“—and because I was looking for some stupid cat! What are the chances of you stickin’ by me all this time, the chances of me and you getting this close, the chances of everything that’s happened to us actually happening?!”
“—everything that’s… wait, Yato, repeat—”
A hand slammed to the wall next to her head and Hiyori’s breath caught in her throat to see him gazing at her, icy blue eyes piercing and smoldering. Her heart seemed to catch in her throat and she had difficulty swallowing, body numb and blood pounding in her ears.
“If you’re going to talk about fate,” he said in a low voice, “then it’s ours you talk about, all right? It’s our fate that’s intertwined, Hiyori. Not yours and his. …Ours.”