"Why?"

There were so many different thoughts that had run through Yukio's mind, so many questions, and now that he was actually in his former lover's presence, they'd all escaped him and left nothing but one repeating word: why.

Renzou had expected something—anything—other than such a simple word that prompted a much more complicated answer. Honestly, a bullet through the head would have been easier to deal with. He'd never anticipated this—the guilt, that is.

Because no matter how much the pink haired traitor tried to convince himself otherwise, he had felt something for Yukio, though it was more likely that he loved being loved than that harbored such emotions himself.

Illuminati spies—teenage boys who lied for a living—weren't allowed to love. It tended to get in the way.

"It doesn't really matter now, does it?" The former exwire replied with a slightly nervous chuckle, trying to keep his words casual and praying that he actually meant them, that it really didn't matter if Yukio and all the others hated him for what he'd done. Even if it did, he couldn't take it back now, anyway—so there was no point in dwelling on it. It was too troublesome.

Yukio's grip on his gun seemed to falter slightly. It was a lie. Renzou was lying, he was trying to act like it had all been for nothing, that it was simply another act like everything else he'd done during his time as an exorcist-in-training.

Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe he really was heartless—a feature that Yukio himself should have adopted, should have stuck to. It was pure idiocy—emotional suicide, even—that had driven him to break every one of his carefully constructed rules, let down his defenses, and truly, purely love someone—someone as undeserving as a traitor.

"…I suppose it doesn't." The bespectacled teen replied after a short pause, expression completely blank and tone equally neutral. Inside, however—inside, he could feel something breaking inside him. It ached in his chest and in his throat, it felt hollow, as if he'd lost a part of himself that couldn't be replaced, and he hated that he'd given another human being such power over him, hated that he couldn't take it back, hated Renzou for making him feel this way.

He hated everything.

"So did you get your answer, then? That's why you were looking for me, right?" Renzou asked.

Certainly, Yukio had more important reasons for being here—and if anyone else saw them talking, they'd both be in an unnecessary amount of danger. That wasn't a risk he was willing to take for anyone, especially not his ex-lover who was supposed to mean nothing, whom he was ordered to date to learn more about him, to better look for signs of Yukio harboring demonic powers like his twin brother.

"I'm… going to kill you." Yukio murmured calmly, after a moment of contemplation—though that likely wouldn't be as easy a feat as usual, considering his hands were shaking and he could barely keep a grip on his gun.

His duty was, first and foremost, to the True Cross Order, and to his brother—not necessarily in that order. Rin still believed that Renzou wasn't actually a traitor, that it was all some sort of misunderstanding, but Yukio—the wiser twin—knew better than that.

Maybe Renzou had enjoyed it. Maybe it was fun for him to see how hard he could make someone else fall for him, only to break them in the end. It wouldn't be surprising if that were the case.

"You say that, but I don't really believe you." Renzou replied, shaking his head. The slightest of smiles crossed his features as he moved closer to the exorcist. There had been plenty of opportunities for Yukio to shoot him—if he really intended to do it, surely it would've happened already. He knew Yukio wasn't one for idle, pointless chatter.

Perhaps he was tempting fate, but there was still another mission that needed to be completed.

Yukio wished he could pull the trigger—god, why couldn't he—it would be so easy, wouldn't it? Easier than confronting these conflicted feelings, easier than walking away having learned nothing new, to let it all die with his former student, his former lover, neither of which meant anything now.

"…Why?" And there he was, back at the beginning, asking the same useless question once again, needing to know, begging to know, praying for a real answer, for something that would make sense, something that would justify his love, justify his suffering, justify it all.

"Because…" Renzou started, trying to figure out how exactly to phrase it in a manner that would both make sense and close the matter once and for all. "I hated everything."

Renzou hated everything? Wasn't that the thought Yukio had himself only a moment earlier? How could it be that they were still so similar, that they still seemed to think the same thoughts, as divided as they'd become-as divided as they were meant to be.

"Does that include… does that include me?" The bespectacled teen asked after a moment of silence, attempting to keep his voice level, though it nearly broke on the last word.

"I could never hate you, Yukio-kun." Renzou replied, the same smile as earlier returning to his face. Yukio couldn't tell if it was fake or real. He couldn't tell if any or all of this was merely a façade.

"I have to kill you." Yukio murmured simply, something in his tone suggesting that he was attempting to convince—or at least remind—himself of that fact. There were no other viable options, after all.

"You could always join me instead." Renzou replied with a nonchalant shrug, the offer terribly casual despite the implications. He was close enough that even with trembling hands Yukio could have gotten a clear, fatal shot without even trying.

"We both know that I can't. It's impossible." Yukio responded, shaking his head. Why was he even trying to reason with him? Why was he giving him the chance to whisper more poisonous lies in his ear? He should've killed him on sight, he shouldn't have given in to his desire—his need to know the truth, he should have killed him.

Because now… now that such an offer had been made, he couldn't. Because now, he was seriously considering giving everything he'd worked for up to be with the one person who expected nothing of him, who had loved—pretended to love, he reminded himself absently—him unconditionally.

But wasn't living a beautiful lie better than facing reality without it?

"Come on, Yukio-kun—put the gun down and come with me. The boss'll be happy that you've decided to switch to our side." The pinkette persuaded, still regarding him with a pleasant, inviting expression. "If you're worried about Rin-kun, you really shouldn't be—we've both seen that he can survive just fine without you protecting him. Since he's learned to control his flames, you and your guns are a little obsolete, right?" He chuckled.

Renzou knew all too well how to get into Yukio's head, how to invade his mind like a parasite and latch onto any one of his insecurities, anything that he'd suppressed, anything that he'd told himself was a lie made up by his paranoid mind and use it against him, use it to manipulate, to wound until he couldn't possibly ignore it, couldn't do anything but crawl back to his lover because at least he was his lover, even if he was possibly pretending.

Their love was nothing more than a sick, poisonous, self-destructive disease, but it was better than no love at all.

Yukio lowered his gun, returning it to its holster. "…Fine. I'll join you." Because he couldn't stop loving him, even when he hated him, no matter what Renzou had done. Because even though he knew Renzou would be the death of him, right now, he was all Yukio had ever known of truly living.

Renzou's smile widened. It was all going according to plan.

"I'm glad you decided to take the easy route. Now we don't have to be apart." He said with his usual false cheer. Really, he was just happy that Yukio had been so easily convinced—it meant less work for him.

It wasn't because he loved him—no, of course not. It wasn't because he still wanted to be with him, the one person who had really cared for his well being, seen him as an individual and really, truly, deeply loved him, even though he now knew that it had been act. It had been an act, an order, nothing but a falsehood that they were both fools for continuing to cling to. And most of all, that wasn't guilt twisting a knot in his stomach; it was just anticipation, since his next mission would likely be more difficult than this one.

Perhaps… perhaps if he acted like it enough, if he insisted to himself that it wasn't real, then it would stop being real, and he would stop feeling this way—weak, vulnerable, and for once in his life, terrified of losing someone.

"Just… keep faking it, please. Let's keep pretending that you love me and that this means something to both of us. It's easier that way, isn't it?" Yukio said, his tone mildly pleading. He knew that Renzou had him exactly where he wanted him, and god, he felt worthless, disgusting, turning his back on everyone, on everything for someone who didn't give a damn whether he lived or died.

"Yeah, of course." Renzou replied. "Anything for my Yukio-kun~"

Anything but the truth.