Yukio Okumura doesn't know why his brother, Rin, died.
He wants there to be an obvious explanation, some blatant reason as to why his only brother is suddenly dead. But there just isn't. It's simple: One day, out of the blue, Yukio Okumura wakes up, his brother Rin is dead. It's so absurd it's almost laughable.
Not that Yukio would even laugh, of course. That's just a saying. If he could express any sort of emotion, though, he would cry.
The day Yukio Okumura finds out that his brother is dead he doesn't teach his classes. He just sits in his room, at his desk, staring blankly at his hands. The whole day. And he doesn't move. He wonders since when he has become this exhausted.
The day after Yukio Okumura finds out that his brother is dead he does, in fact, return to teach his classes-there is a tuition to be payed off, of course, and he mustn't slack on his duties. That would be unfair to himself and Rin. Somebody had to pay the bills in their shoddy dorm, even if that person was now only paying for himself.
Yukio wonders since when did classes become so tedious to teach-not that they ever have been necessarily his favorite thing to do. But it's as if the days have suddenly become longer, the hours dragging by as Yukio is forced to explain the same things over and over again-it's no wonder his brother could never pay attention during class, if he has always been this boring.
Yukio mentally slaps himself. That is a ludicrous thought, probably. He has never been able to understand Rin.
Sometimes he feels like he never will.
Because he still can't figure out, for the life of him, why his own brother is dead, for goodness' sakes.