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Gunshots were a familiar sound for Yukio. They’d become almost comforting over the years, a constant echo that followed him everywhere he went. They had always been there to protect him from the monsters in the dark, from every sinister shadow that lurked around the corners that only he could see.
So then why did this one chill him to his very core?
He had pulled the trigger, felt the recoil, and his aim was true. It had been for years; he did not miss. And certainly not at a close range like this.
Yukio had known exactly what he was doing, what—no, who he was aiming for. But despite what it looked like, they were merely warning shots, a deterrent against his assailant.
However, when it came to someone like Rin, with his healing and strength and stubbornness, mere “warning shots” had to be more...thorough.
So what else was there to do but aim for the head? The neck? The chest? The shots would most likely only stun his twin, and with his advanced healing Yukio was worried they may not even keep him down long enough.
But then why...why was it that after pulling that trigger, so certain of himself, of his brother, had he felt absolutely terrified when he heard each and every B A N G!
Perhaps it was because Rin tumbled backwards, eyes wide with panic and fear and shock just like any normal person would be if they were shot in such vital areas at close range. Maybe it was because of how silent everything was, save for the dull thud of his brother hitting the ground, not a single sound in the air except for Yukio’s own measured breaths.
Rin did not move.
Yukio let his arm fall, weapon dangling precariously in limp fingers. Had that actually worked? Had he managed to knock Rin out? He’d half expected his brother to simply shrug off those bullets like they were nothing, because that was what he always seemed to do with these types of things.
“Hey...” Furrowing his brows, Yukio tucked the firearm back in its holster as he cautioned a step forward. The freezing air seemed to slither up and down his body, and he fought back a shiver. “Seriously, Rin? Was it that easy? I actually knocked you out with only three shots? That’s pathetic even by your standards!”
An all too familiar cackle echoed through his head, making him tense. Oh, I don’t think you knocked him out, kiddo.
“Well then he’s gotten pretty damn good at acting. Stop playing around, you idiot. Get up.” He closed the distance between them, ignoring how his own heartbeat thundered in his ears, faster, faster, faster. Almost as if he was on the verge of panic.
But panic about what? Everything was fine.
“Get up, Rin. This is no place to be lying about,” Yukio scolded as he loomed over his brother. “What are you doing?”
Nothing. Rin wasn’t...he wasn’t moving. It was as if the snow and frigid air had somehow frozen him.
Yukio stared down at the nephilim, frowning, resolutely ignoring Satan’s laughter and cryptic jeers, as well as the alarmed cries of the ExWires that began to ring through the still, snowy atmosphere.
Blood trickled sluggishly down his twin’s face, leaving thick, stark red lines in its wake. The color was jarring against such pale skin, and the injury didn’t seem to be healing as more viscous fluid leaked from the bullet wound in his forehead. The front of Rin’s hoodie was slowly becoming tainted with crimson, gradually overtaking the cheerful design of the clothing as it became soaked with red. And his eyes...they were so empty, devoid of absolutely anything, glassy, like...like Rin wasn’t there, because his eyes had never been so dull before.
Yukio had no idea how long he stood there, peering into his brother’s blank, tear-filled gaze, taking in the wounds that really should have been healing by now, how slack his expression was, the fact that he couldn’t see Rin’s breath in the icy air. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours.
That was a dead body lying in front of him.
All the evidence told him that, he knew that. Lying before him was a corpse.
His twin brother’s corpse.
“Hold on...” Yukio dropped to his knees, his uninjured hand frantically feeling for a pulse, checking Rin’s neck, his wrist, yet he found nothing. “Rin, this isn’t funny! Stop messing around already, come on!” Lurching forward, he pressed his ear against his twin’s chest, certain he would find a still-beating heart. After all, this was Rin they were talking about, and Rin didn’t—couldn’t die. He always got back up, brushed everything off and laughed about it! So this couldn’t be...there was no way this was happening.
And yet there was nothing to hear, nothing, only his own fraught breaths as he strained for some kind of sound.
Nothing.
No pulse, no heartbeat.
A strangled gasp escaped him as he jerked up, the disinterested detachment he showcased prior vanishing all at once, everything falling into place far, far too abruptly for him.
Rin was dead.
Satan’s mirth grew louder, his laughter high and manic, almost in tandem with Yukio’s deep gasps for air. You killed him! Holy shit, you actually killed him! Ha! Point blank shot him dead!
“I– I didn’t–” the exorcist forced out, his throat burning thanks to the crisp, wintery air he’d been so feverishly inhaling. “No...that’s not true, there’s no way I...no! No, I didn’t mean to! It– it was–” It was an accident. The attacks were only meant to stun Rin, to delay him while Yukio made his escape. Not...he’d never, never want to actually...to actually...
You killed him, you killed him! Satan sang, quite similarly to a small child excited to tease an embarrassed classmate. You killed your own brother! How cruel of you, Yukio! And when he only wanted to help you, too!
“No– NO!” He would not accept this, he could not accept this! Rin was fine, there was no way he was dead! He had to be okay, because he was always okay.
He would stand up, call Yukio by some dumb name, even take a swing at him, all things considered, because that’s what he did. His big brother always bounced back, no matter what was thrown his way. Always stood up in the face of danger, always got hurt, always recovered.
Always was there for him.
“Get up!” Yukio barked out as he grabbed Rin’s shoulder, jostling his body with a desperate fervor. “Damn it, get up you dumbass!”
Don’t make me your murderer. Please, please, Rin. You can’t do this to me, you’re meant to be stronger than this!
The nephilim’s head jerked to the side at the violent motion, more blood oozing from the entry wounds, dripping into his vacant eyes. His lips parted, scarlet trickling from the corners of his mouth and dribbling onto his chin, the teeth that peeked out stained a pinkish-red.
I still can’t believe you just slaughtered him! Satan continued. Of all the things I thought would happen, I admit this wasn’t one. Damn, you surprised even me, kid!
Tears, hot and stinging pooled in Yukio’s eyes as he heaved for air, soft, quiet sobs choking him. He had begun to shake so madly that he could scarcely keep ahold of Rin, of his– of his corpse.
“Please–” he coughed, barely able to get the words out between each frenzied breath. “You can't be– you’re not– you can’t be gone!”
Kinda sucks, though, I did have some plans for him... Satan mused. But hey! The entertainment of it all might actually be worth this!
A ragged screech tore itself from Yukio as he collapsed inward against Rin, clutching his brother’s body close as though it was all that was left in the universe.
And in his mind, it was.
I didn’t mean to...I didn’t mean to! Give him back!
The sobs morphed into hysterical wails and screams, leaving him heaving for oxygen. Satan’s callous taunts became garbled, fading to a horrific static in his head, joined only by his own begging and apologies that he couldn’t push out, his tongue refusing to obey him.
Why wasn’t Rin’s heart beating? Why wasn’t he breathing? Why had he just stopped?
He dimly noted that there were people around him shouting, what seemed to be Shima and some Illuminati members scrambling among the chaos as well as his own students, their confusion with the situation morphing into hysteria as they arrived at the same conclusion Yukio had.
Rin Okumura was dead; gunned down in cold blood by his own family.
“What the fuck did you just do!?” Suguro snarled as he wrestled out of Kamiki’s and Konekomaru’s hold, though admittedly they appeared far too stunned to put up much of a fight in the first place. “You fucking shot him!? What the hell is wrong with you?!”
Yukio raised his head, eyes narrowed and teeth grit, barely able to see the Aria approaching through his tears, the world blurring behind them. They ran down his face, smearing Rin’s blood from when he’d laid against his chest, and for a moment, he contemplated ripping at his own skin, hating the quickly fading warmth of his own twin’s blood.
“OKUMURA!” Suguro shouted, yet his voice cracked, almost as if he was on the verge of tears himself.
They’re going to hate you, Satan cackled gleefully. They’re never going to forgive you, no one ever will. But then again, you’re probably always gonna hate yourself more, eh, Yukio?
“Stay away!” Yukio finally bit out a threat after struggling for a moment, his good arm grasping madly for the pistol kept at his hip while he hunched over Rin.
No one would be taking his brother away from him; they would have to kill Yukio first to do so.
Suguro didn’t listen to Yukio or the others warning him to stay back, and thus he did the only thing he could.
The very thing that had landed him in this whole damn mess.
He pulled the trigger.
You really don’t learn your lesson, do you? Satan seemed horribly amused by it, but it was easy to tune him out, focusing instead on his student’s pained yell as the bullet buried into his thigh and Suguro crumpled.
“Suguro!” Kamiki raced towards him, dragging an inconsolable Shiemi along with her.
“Someone get that gun away from him! Get him away from the body!”
Yukio had no idea who was barking orders, an exorcist or an Illuminati member. But he did not care, because the next person who dared to get near would be getting a bullet in them, too!
“Grab him and get the nephilim! Satan’s spawn could still be useful, don’t just leave the corpse behind!”
“No, no, no, no...” Yukio hauled Rin into his lap, pointedly choosing to ignore the deadweight, the way his head lolled forward, no resistance being put up in the slightest. “Get back!” He let loose another shot, blindly this time, unsure if it even hit anyone amongst the ensuing chaos. The air was biting cold, gelid winds whipping at his face, every breath showing up as a plume of white steam while his glasses began to fog up. He spat out a curse at that; he couldn’t see worth shit!
Regardless, he would make sure that no one was taking Rin, no one was going to hurt him any further, use him for fucked up experiments, slice up his body, tear him apart, not even allow him to rest.
“I’ve got you,” Yukio hissed softly, almost as if he was speaking to his deceased family member. “I’m going–” he inhaled sharply, grinding his teeth together with fierce determination. “I’m going to protect you.”
Says the one that killed him.
“SHUT UP!” he howled, firing at an Illuminati member who had decided to gamble a step closer. “Shut up, shut up, shut the fuck UP!”
“Just let him keep the body for now!”
“He’s fucking crazy!”
Yukio let off a few more rounds in the vague direction of the voices before his stomach dropped upon hearing the empty click of his gun.
No more bullets in the chamber. Fuck!
For a moment, he considered reloading but gave up, instead hurling the weapon aside in frustration as he tugged Rin tighter against his chest, burying his nose in his hair. “I’m not going to let them take you away from me,” he promised, pretending that he couldn’t feel the wet warmth of Rin’s blood soaking into his jacket, almost as if to mark him a killer.
He did nothing to fight against the Illuminati members that nabbed him, dragging him away from the scene, so long as they didn’t try to rip his brother from him. He allowed them to haul him to his feet just as long as he could carry Rin’s body, keep him close.
“I’m going to fix this,” Yukio swore softly.
You can’t fix this.
“I will fix—I’ll fix this,” he ground out through gritted teeth, clutching Rin even tighter in spite of the deadweight. Somehow, some fucking way, he was going to fix things.
“Just hold on, Rin...please...”
Renzō couldn’t help but grimace every time he glanced towards his former teacher, who was gripping his twin’s corpse so firmly his knuckles had turned white. If Rin were alive, surely he would have complained about the intense hold being painful.
For the most part he...honestly wasn’t sure what to feel. Maybe he was in a state of shock, because he certainly hadn’t been expecting Rin’s death to come from this, and definitely not at the hands of his own brother. But...beneath the shock, he thought he felt...a twinge of remorse, perhaps. Of course, it was nowhere near the blind, inconsolable, maddening grief Yukio seemed to be experiencing, but it was certainly more emotion than he had been anticipating. Perhaps he’d gotten more attached to the son of Satan than he’d originally believed...
But he did know for sure that he felt horrified, and maybe even appalled at the manic way Yukio refused to let go of his brother’s body, the way he was talking to it, assuring the lifeless corpse that everything would be fine. As though Rin wasn’t long gone.
Hell, maybe his teacher had finally snapped and lost it; murdering your own brother would be more than enough to send someone over that edge, especially when that someone was already as unstable as Yukio had been.
At least the exorcist had closed Rin’s eyes at last so Renzō wasn’t burdened with glimpsing that awful, soulless stare of a dead man every time he was tempted to look over.
He still just...he just couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Rin was dead. Hell, he’d half expected the guy to outlive them all, even with all the dumbass stunts he pulled, just because of how damn stubborn and lucky he seemed to be.
Well, it wasn’t like any of it mattered now; the Illuminati was going to have a field day when they got ahold of the nephilim’s body. God knew what kind of shit they could figure out, the experiments they could run once they sunk their teeth into a subject such as Rin Okumura.
That was...only if they managed to get his corpse away from his younger brother. And that wasn’t looking to be very promising.
He cautioned a glance over at the twins once more to witness Yukio combing a hand through Rin’s dark, matted bangs, brushing out flakes of dried blood as he did so. Yukio’s expression was so serious, so contemplative and unchanging that it made Renzō shudder.
“Jesus...” For a split second, he thought about offering condolences to him, at least trying to provide a small bit of comfort. After all, Rin had been his friend, and so too had been Yukio at some point, but...yeah, no, he wasn’t touching that colossal mess. Maybe if Yukio ever got ahold of himself again, Renzō would attempt to, but for now...no way in hell.
His eyes suddenly stung, and Renzō winced, squeezing them shut as he leaned his head back against the seat. Were those tears? What the fuck, was he really about to cry right now?! “Shit.” He rubbed at his eyes in annoyance; this was no place for those kinds of feelings! Why the hell did he even have them in the first place, anyways?
All he wanted to do was to get back to base and get this whole ordeal over with.
It was all a blur after they arrived at the Illuminati’s airship; Yukio hadn’t even been able to properly register most of what went on around him. It was like his mind couldn’t process the information coming in, as though he was stuck while the world continued on in fast-motion.
But no one had tried to steal Rin away from him, so he didn’t care.
He had been shoved inside one of the many rooms on the ship, presumably so the higher-ups at the Illuminati could discuss what to do with him, and what they would do with—with Rin.
He’d laid out his brother across a bed within the—admittedly quite nice—room, but Yukio found he just couldn’t pretend that Rin was merely sleeping; not when blood ran down his face, stained his clothes, slowly seeping into the bed’s high-quality sheets. His chest did not rise and fall, and there was not a twitch of movement from him.
Yukio’s eyes stung from how much he’d been crying, but at least the sobs had been reduced to a quiet, diminished action, instead of the out of control blubbering he’d been doing before. All this time, and he was still such a big crybaby...
Now, if only he could silence the malicious demon in his head who kept taunting him for what had transpired.
“He probably trusted you right up until the end there, too,” Satan sighed in mock sadness, voicing himself audibly now to Yukio’s chagrin. “That brat always was far too naive!”
Yukio clenched his teeth and hissed, but couldn’t bring himself to protest. How could he when it was the truth? He’d slaughtered his brother in cold blood after promising to protect him, learning and training with their father for it for so many years.
Not only had he failed, but he was the one who had done the deed.
It wasn’t just Rin he should be apologizing to, but Father Fujimoto as well. He’d failed them both. Horribly.
Reaching out a trembling hand to grab Rin’s wrist, a new wave of misery flooded through him upon realizing his sibling wasn’t as warm as before. Rin had never been cold in his entire life, even before he’d awakened to his demon side. He’d always been so warm, as if it had been liquid fire in his veins rather than blood.
A choked noise squirmed its way out of his sore, aching throat. “Why are you...? You’re not warm, why aren’t you warm anymore?”
Because he was dead, that’s why. What kind of question was that? Corpses stopped being warm after a while, Yukio knew this, it was common knowledge to anyone.
He wondered if...
His hand wandered from Rin’s wrist to the sheath still on his back, pinned beneath his weight. Kurikara had always been scorching hot, the metal constantly thrumming with the flames kept within it. Had it turned cold as well? The power and heart inside it being smothered as Rin drew his last breath?
Gingerly, he lifted Rin’s body to slide the sheath from under him before carefully laying him back down. It felt...it felt almost criminal to take the Koma sword from him, even in death. It was such an important piece of his brother, but...
But he had to know if there was life within the sword.
When he drew it, would blue flames still ignite over Rin’s body?
“You think something like death would snuff my power out so easily?”
For a second, Yukio halted, his fingers ceasing their fumbling with the red case over the blade. Would it truly help? Or would it make it worse, seeing Rin’s body alight with fire? Or for nothing to happen when the sword was drawn, solidifying that his twin was really gone.
Clenching his teeth, Yukio shook his head in denial. He had to know, he had to– he had to do something, and this was all there was.
So, he ripped off the casing and wrenched the blade from its sheath.
No flames followed the action, and Yukio had to bite his tongue to stop a feeble noise of pathetic disappointment from escaping him, though he honestly wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting to happen. Rin’s body did not ignite, his ears and claws did not lengthen, his body did not change like it always had with the unsheathing of Kurikara, the exposing of his heart.
But...but–
A thin, nearly imperceptible smolder covered the blade, glinting in the dim lighting a faint azure.
Yukio inhaled sharply, gliding his fingers delicately along the metal, his eyes widening and breathing quickening as he realized the sword was warm.
Not just warm, but hot.
“Rin?” he breathed.
Something thrummed within the sword, a pulsing of heat and power.
A heartbeat.
His demon heart, Yukio ascertained. Rin had a second heart! He’d always had a second heart, and it had been sealed inside Kurikara, kept safe, shielded from the harm of Yukio’s bullets.
Hysterical laughter fell from his lips as he clutched the sword close to his chest, savoring the steady pulse he felt within.
A piece of Rin was alive, was alright, and if Yukio could only come up with a way to return that piece of him to his physical body...
“Careful what you wish for,” Satan cautioned, though his voice was still light and airy with amusement.
“I don’t care what you say,” the young exorcist sneered. He forced himself up on shaky legs before starting to pace the room restlessly, jagged pieces of a plan drifting together in his head.
Breaking the sword would release Rin’s demon heart, right? Of course it would, that much was apparent. Right now, he just needed to hurry, because he sure as hell couldn’t allow the Illuminati snatch Kurikara or Rin away before he did this. Besides, the faster he got Rin’s demon heart into his body to jumpstart everything—his healing and normal functions—the better everything would be. He didn’t want to cause Rin anymore pain than was necessary by forcing his heart back into a form that was already...already decaying.
Yukio didn’t waste another moment thinking as he hurled the Koma sword against the closest wall, using every ounce of strength he had, throwing his entire body into the motion, desperately needing the sword to break now.
He couldn’t be his brother’s murderer, he just couldn’t be, and this was the last chance he had to rectify the situation.
Satan howled with laughter as the blade crashed against the wall, not a dent appearing in it, though the wall had splintered a bit from where he’d struck it. “You honestly think you’ll break that accursed thing just by tossing it against a wall? Kid, I doubt you could snap a normal sword, let alone a blade reinforced with power like that!”
“Well, I don’t know what else you want me to do!” Yukio spat out, his voice hitching as he seethed with fury and dismay. “I can’t– I have to-!”
An idea dawned on him at that moment, his mismatched eyes going wide at the thought. Despite it all, he found that he didn’t care how far-fetched this plan was, nor how pathetic it was to even ask—no, demand it of the devil himself. Still...this was for Rin’s sake, and he would go to any lengths to bring back his twin.
“You break it, then,” Yukio snarled, lifting his head high and gripping the hilt of Kurikara so tightly his fingers ached.“You’re strong enough, so why don’t you break Kurikara if you’re so tough?”
Satan scoffed, the offense in his tone evident. “And why should I? Especially when you think you can just order me around like that?”
“You told me you had plans for him!” he exclaimed, gesturing wildly to Rin’s lifeless body. “You didn’t really want him dead...I know you didn’t. Besides...I’m right, aren’t I?” he held the Koma sword aloft. “His heart, his demon heart is still in here. And if we break it, he’ll come back. Or are you scared of what will happen once it’s broken?”
“I don’t know...” Satan mused, but his condescending tone gave him away.
Yukio was certain he was right about this.
“Alright then,” Satan conceded after a moment of false contemplation. “I’m sure it will be an...entertaining experience for us both.”
“Then do it,” Yukio commanded, his hands at last ceasing their trembling as he held out Kurikara, finally confident in his actions for the first time since he’d fired at Rin. He didn’t bother to think hard about why Satan was so, so willing to go along with his plan, that the demon had never done anything unless it would benefit him. But Yukio was so fraught, so weighed down by grief, yearning to see Rin alive again that it never once occurred to him he might be feeding into exactly what Satan wanted.
And even then...he didn’t care.
Yukio scarcely processed the searing flare of power that exploded from his eye, blinding blue flame sparking to life and slamming into the sword so suddenly that he was forced to drop it, nearly toppling over by the backlash he experienced from the collision.
It didn’t hit the floor in one piece; Satan’s divine fury didn’t allow it to. No, his power sank into the blade, cleaving it apart, blowing it into pieces that crashed to the floor with a deafening clatter.
“That flimsy thing was pathetic,” Satan scoffed. “All too easy to destroy.”
Yukio’s mouth opened and closed silently, unable to process that the demon had demolished the sword so effortlessly, that Kurikara now laid in shattered pieces at his feet. After his father had protected it for so long, after it had been so important to Rin.
A sharp intake of breath pierced through the stagnant air.
Yukio’s muscles locked up, his heart skipping a beat. “Rin...?” His eyes darted to his brother’s body just in time to see it shudder with life, twitching spasms wracking his form as a ragged cough came from blood-stained lips.
“Nii-san!” Yukio exclaimed, a relieved, exhausted smile lighting up his features. He lurched towards his twin, inquiries of his wellbeing already shaping on his tongue.
The nephilim’s eyes flew open, his entire body tensing, nails sinking into the bedsheets as an ear-splitting, agonized screech tore itself from his mouth.
“RIN!” Yukio grabbed for him, alarmed, one hand curling around his twin’s shoulder in a panic. “Nii-san! Talk to me, what’s wrong?” Why was he in pain? Why was he hurting when this was supposed to fix him!?
The shouts rose in volume and intensity, Rin’s voice ragged, his hands shifting from the bedsheets to his chest, clawing and tearing as though he was attempting to sever the skin from bone.
“Stop it!” Yukio pleaded, attempting to trap his wrists to prevent Rin from injuring himself further, not while the bullet wounds had yet to heal. “Just tell me what’s wrong! What’s-?”
Rin’s skin flashed so hot it had Yukio crying out, forcing him to jerk back on instinct, angry red burns already forming on the palm of his hand just as blue flames erupted from his brother.
The fearful screams of pain from the nephilim blended with Satan’s sadistic laughter, and Rin batted frantically at the fire, the flames consuming him, scorching him like no fire ever should. He was...Rin was immune to fire, he had Satan’s flames! Nothing burned hotter, was more unholy, and yet that very thing had never before harmed him.
Rin’s body convulsed violently, back arching off the bed, the flames flaring brighter and hotter, taking up more of the room and pushing Yukio further backwards, tripping over his own feet as dread smothered out his previous relief and excitement.
Why was Rin in pain?
“You never think,” Satan chided gleefully. “Do ya, kid? You really thought shoving a demon heart back into a grossly unprepared human body would actually work? That it would fix him? And here I thought you were supposed to be the smart twin, ha!”
Yukio’s back collided with the wall behind him, his hand shooting up to cover his mouth as tears began to gather in the corners of his eyes. Helplessly, he shook his head, his body going numb as his shoulders trembled. “N-no,” he choked. “Oh God, please...please, no.”
The stench of charred flesh fumigated the air, spreading with the steady rise of smoke from Rin’s body. His voice cracked between screams, wide, terrified eyes shifting over to Yukio for a fraction of a second, like he desperately yearned to tell him something but couldn’t force the words out. Patches of a sickening gray-black color began to eat away at his skin, overtaking him, all the while Rin’s shrieks of agony only grew wilder.
Yukio’s stomach churned at the sight, at the smell. He knew necrotic flesh when he saw it—with all his medical training, how could he not? Before he knew it, his own sobs had returned in full force as he slid down the wall, wishing he could pry his gaze away from his tormented brother as he burned, but he couldn’t make himself.
Not when he was the cause of this hell.
He’d already slain Rin once. But was he...was he really about to watch him die a second time? Again, by his own hands?
The charring spread across Rin’s face, burning away what skin had not been tainted, incinerated, by those ungodly azure flames. His fraught cries cut off abruptly, what was left of his body going completely limp, ashen chunks of it crumbling away as he collapsed against the sheets.
There– there wasn’t even a corpse to mourn anymore. What remained of Rin had practically been cremated, leaving behind only a husk of ashes in the vague shape of a person.
Nothing was left of his brother.
Yukio couldn’t breathe. His chest ached, his throat was raw and sore, but no matter how much he gasped and heaved he couldn’t force the oxygen into his lungs. He’d returned Rin from the dead, shoved his demon heart into his body and brought him back to life only to torture him for a few moments of hell and then kill him again.
“You didn’t seriously expect him to just jump back to his feet and for everything to be fucking fine, did you?” Satan prodded, his tone as amused as ever. “To smile and assure his dear little brother that it was all okay?”
Pressure built in Yukio’s temples, his vision beginning to white out at the edges as he struggled to breathe, fingers and toes turning numb.
Had Satan known? When Yukio demanded he break the sword, had he known all along how Rin would burn?
How could he have been such an idiot, of course a monster like him wasn’t going to actually help; he merely wanted to see his sons suffer even more.
“I– I–”
A soft, blue glow entered Yukio’s vision, and he jerked his head up to see a sphere of flame (Rin’s heart) floating above his twin’s remains, the luminous fire much gentler than the vicious, greedy blaze that had consumed Rin just moments prior. It expanded, ever so slightly, shifting and burning and growing.
And then a pale hand clawed its way out of the fire, fingers tipped in gruesome talons.
The air rammed back into Yukio’s lungs, leaving him coughing and gasping. “R-Rin?” Struggling to brace himself against the wall, he stumbled back to his feet in spite of the numbness that still plagued him. “Rin!”
He’d seen his brother's healing process many times. A type of high-speed regeneration that could quite honestly be fascinating to watch, it was the same healing ability most types of demons possessed, and while Yukio had borne witness to it doing some pretty amazing things, well...
It was utterly unnerving to see it piece a body back together from literally nothing. Knitting it up, not just repairing, but creating from null.
And watching Rin be reborn from the embers and fire was no different. His bones and tissue and flesh reconnecting, being bound back together by unseen forces.
Why had this happened? If Rin’s body was healing from that, from literally being cremated, why hadn’t the three gunshot wounds simply healed? Did the fact that Rin’s true demonic powers were sealed away really prevent his body from healing, from coming back from fatal wounds like that?
A deep, shuddering breath came from the now fully-formed Rin, and Yukio pitched forward. Nothing else in the world mattered right now. He could worry about the whats and whys and how the fuck he was ever going to apologize and make up for this later. Right now, his sole focus was to make sure that his big brother would be okay, that he wasn’t in any sort of pain.
Yukio ignored the blue-white hair and small beginnings of horns as he pressed a hand against his brother’s forehead (now warm, so, so warm), checking for the wound that previously marred him. Of course it wasn’t there, it was perfectly healed! But Yukio still had to—he needed to be sure, with 100% certainty, he needed to know that Rin was alright, that he wasn’t imagining the steady breathing as the nephilim blinked opened two brilliant blue eyes.
As soon as he’d checked his neck and chest, Yukio squeezed his eyes shut, relief crashing into him as he sagged against the mattress. The bullet holes were gone. Healed. And Rin was breathing, he was– he was warm again!
“Yukio...” Rin’s voice was soft, mellow, no uncertainty in it whatsoever.
“Don’t talk.” Yukio pried his eyes open again as he removed his bloody exorcist coat, carefully draping it over Rin’s nude form. “You–” he tried to swallow back a dry sob, wincing at how worn out his throat felt. “You’re probably still recovering.”
Rin quickly caught his wrist as Yukio tried to pull back from him. “You killed me.” Claws dug into his skin, but so, so gingerly, wary not to cause any harm to him.
At some point, Satan had begun laughing again, but by now it had become white noise. Yukio just didn’t understand what could be so damn hilarious about this situation.
“Yukio.” Rin frowned, tugging his twin closer when he didn’t receive a response, but all Yukio could do was stare as he gazed into Rin’s eyes.
There was a pinprick of red in the center of Rin’s pupils that most certainly hadn’t been there before, and it halted Yukio in his tracks.
Wrong, something’s wrong.
Yukio hastily shoved the thoughts aside. Nothing was wrong, Rin was alive and that was all that mattered.
“Rin, I–”
The nephilim shook his head before he could continue. “You don’t have to apologize, Yukio.”
Yukio couldn’t stop himself any longer. Throwing all caution to the wind, he grabbed his twin, yanking him close and wrapping his arms around him the best he could with one arm still confined to a cast. A harsh cry escaped him, because how could Rin always be so forgiving? Why couldn’t he just be angry? Hurt? Disappointed?
Yukio had shot him. Three fucking times! Shot him, killed him, and dragged his corpse to the enemy’s base just to resurrect him and burn him alive!
Rin...Rin should be pissed. Oh, he would never hate Yukio; he hadn’t for anything yet, so why would he suddenly start now? However, Rin was a temperamental bastard—there was no denying that—so why the hell was he trying to reassure his own murderer? He should be irate! Hurling insults at him, berating him, not– not returning Yukio’s pitiful hug and telling him he didn’t even have to apologize.
“Come on, you’re not that stupid, Yukio. Put the pieces together,” Satan encouraged with a snicker as the exorcist eventually drew back from Rin, his prior abundant relief gradually withering away as every instinct in him began to scream that something was off with his brother.
Those almost hypnotic eyes that followed Yukio with their warped, spiral pupils, the smile that was tugging at the corners of his mouth, exposing terrifying teeth that were much sharper than they had ever been before was haunting him. Fingers tipped in permanent claws, demon heart blazing for all to see at the front of his chest.
“I killed you.” Yukio swallowed thickly, the admission like acid on his tongue, burning and corroding his vocal chords. “Twice, Rin.”
The nephilim scoffed and rolled his eyes, turning his head to the side away from Yukio, his lengthened ears twitching up. The gesture was so like Rin, but the movement itself was off. Too...too fluid, too calculated. “Oh, please. As if I’m that breakable.” He turned his gaze back to Yukio so suddenly that it froze him in place, and one clawed hand reached out to poke at his glasses. “I’m not like you. You’re so...so fragile.” The last word came out with a low, rumbling snarl, though it didn’t seem to be directed at Yukio himself, rather at anything that decided to take advantage of his so-called “fragility”.
Taking a hasty step back, Yukio felt a crushing dread unlike any he had ever known beginning to constrict his chest, tight and unforgiving and inescapable.
“Actually...” Rin shrugged Yukio’s coat on as he rose to his feet with that same effortless grace, the garment slightly too big on him, fabric bunching up on his wrists. “I wanted to thank you.” What had started as the beginnings of a smile stretched into a feral, shark-like grin that did not belong on Rin’s face. “After all, you helped set me free, Yukio!”
“Free...?” he rasped, eyes widening as things began to slot into place. What exactly had been locked away in that sword by Father Fujimoto, and what had he all-too-easily just convinced Satan to set loose?
“Now you’re getting it,” Satan crooned, a smug satisfaction in his voice.
“Not only did you finally release me from that– that fucking sword!” Rin continued, giddy, manic laughter accompanying the statement. “But you snuffed out those fucking irritating human parts! I don’t have to fight my instincts anymore, don’t have to put up with those– those pathetic morals.” He hugged his arms around himself, a content sigh following the words. “I can burn things, I can let my fire rage and rage and rage and I won’t have to feel a scrap of remorse about it now. Ha!” he straightened up, his macabre smile leaving Yukio’s skin crawling. “And it’s all thanks to you. I knew you were a good brother!”
“Such a good brother,” Satan echoed with a hysteric laugh. “After all, only the best brothers brutally murder you in cold blood! But hey, maybe I’m being a little harsh. You did bring him back, after all. Just like you asked me to help you do! Sure, it might not be the Rin you wanted back, but beggars can’t be choosers!”
“No...” Yukio whispered, still continuing to stumble backwards in firm denial. “No, no, you’re not– you can’t be–” He hadn’t just undid everything his father had suffered for, died for. He hadn’t just made Rin into a demon in the worst possible way. He hadn’t just murdered the twin he’d grown up with, that he’d loved, and brought back a monster to wear his face and tarnish his memory.
“What’s with that look, Yukio?” Rin prompted, tilting his head almost innocently. “I’m still me! There’s no need to get all upset...it’s not like I’ve forgotten anything. Like– like, remember all the times those scum tried to pick on you? Hurt you, beat you up and– and–” Rin snarled, claws flexing menacingly before he took a deep breath in and relaxed, a nearly serene smile flashing across his face. “And I protected you. I always protected you, and I always will. Whenever people tried to bully you, or steal from you, or hurt you in any way...you’re my kin, and I would never let anything bad happen to you; even if you did kill me. Whoops, but hey, things turned out great in the end! Don’t you agree?”
When he didn’t get a reply, Rin’s easygoing smile vanished and a frustrated but concerned expression took its place. “Come on, Yukio...if you want to apologize then fine, I accept your apology, but you don’t need to be all mopey still. You’re forgiven! Come on, you did something wonderful, you set me free! You killed the parts that were holding me back, you shot me! Three times point blank! I’m thanking you for that, don’t you see?!”
Yukio’s legs buckled, no longer able to support him as he fell to his knees, the weight of his actions catching up to him in full. After everything he had done to bring Rin back, to make things right...and to instead create a nightmare far worse than anything he could have anticipated.
“Yukio!” Rin nearly pouted, a vaguely irritated growl rumbling in his chest. It was so similar to how he acted whenever Yukio scolded him in the past, about trivial things like not doing his homework or oversleeping.
It made him want to vomit.
“Seriously, you’re overreacting...just like you always do!” the nephilim continued. “Like I said, I’m still me! I don’t get why you’re so upset, come on...”
“Go on, kid,” Satan cooed jubilantly. “Obviously he wants you to say that it’s all okay and you believe him. Are you really gonna disappoint him after putting him through all that pain?” The demon’s amusement hadn’t faded at all, from the very moment Yukio had pulled the trigger, egging the situation on and on, and it left Yukio needing to scream for having played right into the devil’s hands.
So that’s what he did.
He fell forward, digging his hands into his hair as he curled up on the floor, forcing his despair, his agony, his guilt into a horrible, gut-wrenching cry. It left his throat raw, his lungs aching, but he did not care. He just screamed and screamed and screamed until he physically could not continue.
He didn’t care about Rin’s worried questions about what was wrong, his familiar, warm hands trying to pull Yukio up as he promised to keep him safe, to protect his beloved brother that had set him free. Nor did he care about Satan’s continued jeers and taunts, his ever-constant laughter that echoed throughout their personal hell.
Because he’d killed his twin brother, the only family he had left and brought back a demon wearing his skin.
And nothing, nothing...could ever fix that.