a/n: ahaha, so... this is not the digimon fandom. Whoopsie. This idea of angsty Rin is probably used a lot, but hey, he's one angsty boi. Who may or may not need lots of hugs. Poor lil bean.
Trigger warning: Please be aware that this one-shot contains swearing, self-harm, blood, and suicidal thoughts. Proceed with caution.
It was well past one in the morning, when the rest of the city was asleep and the sky oozed faded twinkling starlight. A young teenager lay in his bed, gaze drifting upwards, eyes unseeing, tail hanging limply off the white sheets. He was completely still, face expressionless, hands folded behind his head, but despite appearing so relaxed, slumber would not claim him. His mind was elsewhere, stuck on an endless loop of thoughts:
I am a demon.
I am a demon, and everyone knows it now.
It was ironic, really. Three months ago, Rin had told his old man that demons did not exist. They were just ferocious and merciless beings pulled from old tales created to scare children and adults alike. But oh, how wrong and naïve he had been—and he looked like such a fool when he found out he was one of those beings.
Except... Rin was not merciless. Rin was not ferocious. He did not want anybody to get hurt or die. He just wanted peace.
Did demons wish for peace?
Rin's eyes drifted shut, but even with them closed, a lingering flash of blue stood out in the darkness. Flames. The one obvious connection which tied him to the king of all demons—Satan himself. Blue flames which consumed so many, taking the lives of countless innocent people. The realization haunted him even in the realm of his dreams.
Rin's emotionless mask faltered. His lips curved downwards slightly, foretelling a heavy frown. He could not ignore the tornado of guilt raging on inside him as the thought flickered unbidden in his mind.
Did demons have nightmares?
Did demons feel such an overwhelming, powerful sense of guilt?
Did demons feel emotions at all?
Rin felt all kinds of things. Sadness. Remorse. Happiness. Anger. Frustration. Fear. Such emotions were associated with humans. If the flames were cold, hard proof that he was not human, why would such haunting feelings loom over him? Was he a failure, then, as a demon and a human?
Rin swallowed hard, wanting to keep his eyes closed. Because if he kept his eyes closed, the tears building under his eyelashes would not break free. Keeping them closed, however, continued to remind him of his demon side, of his blue flames which stole his chance a normal life.
Another crack in Rin's mask. This time, his lips twitched into a hollow, empty smile. A normal life. He'd never had a normal life, even before his satanic powers awakened. He got into fights, dropped out of school, couldn't hold a job. Once that spark of anger was ignited in his veins, he could not stop. He hurt so many other children growing up.
Cursed child.
Monster.
I am a demon.
I am a demon, and everyone knows it.
"Rin?" Kuro's voice purred, pulling Rin from the ocean of his thoughts. He climbed onto Rin's chest, gazing at him worriedly. His voice was heard by him only when he continued, "What's wrong?"
Slowly, deeply, Rin breathed. No tears. Tears did not solve anything. It would not bring back his old man, would not put his powers back to sleep, would not erase the fact that he was the spawn of Satan and everyone hated him for it.
"Can't sleep," he said eventually, voice a low whisper so he would not wake his sleeping brother.
Yukio.
Very slowly, Rin's eyes found the boy who was only minutes younger than him. Just how much of a burden was Rin's existence to his own brother? Would Yukio truly be better off without him?
"Isn't it obvious? You're a demon, Nii-san. I considered you a danger to us all."
"...just die, please."
Back then, Yukio had said the words so coldly and cruelly that they felt like invisible knives in his skin. He'd never heard Yukio speak in such a detached voice, and especially not to him. Thinking about it now made his throat tighten and his nose burn.
It wasn't just Yukio, either. The group whom he'd so fondly called his friends were now afraid of him, angry at him. And maybe... maybe they'd come around. Maybe they just needed time. It was a hope to which Rin clung desperately, but with each passing day that hope was slipping from his clawed fingertips. And once it was gone Rin was not sure how he could recover.
He remembered thinking, after that fight with his brother in the classroom on his first day, I'm used to people hating me. He could handle it. Or at least... he thought he could.
Perhaps if they hadn't gotten so close to him, he could've brushed it off. If they hadn't told him that they had his back, if they hadn't told him that they trusted him, if they hadn't called him their friend... maybe it wouldn't hurt so much.
But they did all of those things. They lured him in with a sense of false hope, with false security. He thought he had a place to belong, but as soon as his secret was spilled he was exiled.
He'd had friends, for the first time in his life. And he'd screwed it up.
He could handle physical pain. He'd grown up never without fresh wounds. And now that his demonic blood was awake and coursing so readily and vibrantly through his veins, his body could heal itself alarmingly fast. But there was no bandage, no medicine, that could help heal the damage inflicted upon him by the words of his classmates and his own brother.
Demons don't have friends.
I am a demon.
I am a demon, and everyone knows it.
"Rin," Kuro persisted, a slight whine in his voice. "You're crying, Rin."
Rin sat up then, chewing the inside of his lip with enough force that it was only a second or two before he tasted blood. And his actions were so sudden and unexpected that it sent Kuro tumbling backwards on the bed, but his expression still defined concern.
"I'm gonna step out a minute," he murmured, but even with his tone low again, there was no mistaking the falter in his voice.
As he stood, Kuro hopped to the floor, indicating that he was going to follow him. For a moment, Rin wanted to tell him to wait on the bed. That he'd be back in a few minutes. But he did not trust himself to speak again. Now unstoppable, a river of fresh tears broke free.
Rin did not make it very far. Once he slipped through his dorm door, he only walked a few steps before he just leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor. He pulled his knees up to his chest, head pillowed on them. A quiet sob escaped him.
He understood why everyone hated him so much; it was pretty obvious by now. Because of his biological connection to the king of Gehenna. What he did not understand was that, even after all they had been through, after he had decided lying to them hurt too much, after he had decided to trust them, they left him alone. Alone, just like he'd always been.
"Are you sad, Rin?"
Kuro pressed himself against one of Rin's legs, a paw coming up to rest on his foot as if trying to comfort him.
Rin sniffled, angry at himself. All he was doing was making his familiar worry. "You should go get some sleep. Don't worry about me."
"Will you tell me why you are crying?"
I deserve to be crying right now.
I deserve this loneliness.
Because I am a demon, and everyone knows it.
"Rin. Rin, stop it! You're hurting yourself, Rin!"
It was not until Kuro leapt onto him that Rin realized what he was doing. Buried in his thoughts, he'd dug his claws so deep into his flesh that he'd drawn blood. Thick, dark, undeniably demonic blood.
Except... wait.
Rin stared for a moment, almost memorized. Even with his familiar shouting at him, he couldn't really hear him. Kuro's frantic voice was simply white noise, muted just like the rest of his thoughts. His mind was circling back to one captivating realization:
This blood was red.
Humans had red blood.
Paralyzed with fascination, Rin's gaze was fixated on his skin. He could not bring himself to look away. Crimson rolled down his skin in sticky wet ribbons, quick and warm. His claws remained embedded in his skin like small knives, rendering his demonic healing abilities useless. His wounds would not close because he would not remove them.
Experimentally, Rin dragged his claws down the expanse of his forearm. But he did not wince. He did not cry out. Just stared. And stared. Blood pooled and rolled until it hit the floor, until it hit his pants.
"Nii-san, what the hell are you doing?!"
Suddenly a pair of hands rested on his own and yanked upward, making Rin jolt in surprise and snap his head up, eyes popped wide with shock. In an instant, he could feel his skin moving as if alive, stitching itself back together, and when he glanced back at his arms, there was still blood, but no evidence of any wounds.
Now there was no proof that this blood was his own. There was no proof that he was human.
"Yukio... I..." In disbelief, Rin gaze found his younger brother, who was now crouched in front of him with dinner plate eyes, seeming scared and uncertain. What was Yukio doing out here? He was supposed to be sleeping.
After a moment, Rin realized what he looked like: face stained with tears, skin painted with blood, blue eyes swollen and webbed from crying, cheeks tinted pink. Within seconds, however, Rin was on his way to recovery. Instictively, he broke free of Yukio's grasp and snapped, "Why the fuck did you do that?"
"Why did I do what?" Yukio's panic-stricken, concerned expression quickly morphed into anger. "Stop you from hurting yourself? You do realize that you were hurting yourself, don't you? You're bleeding!"
"What's it to you, Four-Eyes?" Rin said heatedly, mirroring his brother's glare with one of his own. Then, in a much quieter, but still irritated voice, he muttered, "It doesn't matter, anyway. It's already healed."
Yukio held his frenzied gaze, but a second later, his anger dissipated and he stated simply, "You've been crying."
Rin was quick to rub at his eyes, and the back of his mind told him that this action was only making it worse. "I have not."
"Spare me, would you?" Yukio deadpanned. "It's written all over your face."
"Shut up."
"Rin," Kuro said with a forlorn expression, "just tell us what's wrong."
Rin turned his eyes to his familiar. "There's nothing wrong, damn it!"
"If there's nothing wrong, then why would you be sitting out in the hallway, bleeding and crying at two in the morning?" Yukio asked quietly, his eyes now falling on the drying blood covering Rin's skin.
Rin hands curled into fists and he quickly looked away from them. "It's really not a big deal."
I was just giving myself what I deserve.
Because I am a demon.
I am a demon, and everyone knows it.
"You're not a very good liar," Yukio persisted.
"Just leave me alone, will you?" he retorted, hands still balled tightly into fists. A stinging sensation washed over his palms, and then there was a dripping sound. More blood.
"Stop it," Yukio said, reaching for his hand again as if ready to use force. "That's not making it any better—"
"It makes me feel human."
It came out of nowhere, and in the wake of the hollow words, Yukio and Kuro were stunned into silence. Rin still kept his gaze lowered, the rage that had steadily been forming within him now collapsing like an old building. He wasn't angry, not really. He never really was. He was just sad.
So sad, so guilty, so hurt, and so very, very lonely. He'd been lonely for so long. Perhaps he should have been used to it by now.
I am demon, and everyone knows it.
"...you should go back to bed, Yukio," Rin murmured abruptly. "It's late. What even brought you out here, anyway?"
"I heard Kuro meowing," he answered quietly. "And I'm not—"
"Please, just go." He was begging now, finally looking back at his brother with defeated eyes. "I want to be by myself."
"I'm not going to just leave you alone out here," Yukio said determinedly. "I'm not going to bed. We should clean you up."
His words brought forth fresh memories from so many years ago: Yukio wanted to be a doctor. Yukio was always tending to his wounds. Yukio was always looking after him, and Rin was the older one.
"...would it make your life better?" Rin wondered suddenly, his voice empty. Robotic. "If I wasn't here? You wouldn't have grown up seeing the demons. And the old man wouldn't have—"
"Nii-san, don't say things like that," Yukio said, with such conviction that it made Rin jump in surprise. "There's a reason Dad chose to save you and me both, remember? There was a reason he died protecting you. He had faith in you, Nii-san. Don't you get that?"
"But even you've got to admit, your life is much more complicated with me around," Rin went on in the same emotionless voice. "And Suguro, Konekomaru... they both don't see the point of me existing. I'm just a fuck-up. They all hate me."
"I don't hate you," Yukio said, with absolute certainty.
"I don't, either," Kuro echoed, looking at him with a stern expression.
"There is a human side to you, you know," Yukio continued. "Dad had faith in your humanity. That means something, doesn't it?"
That made Rin pause. He glanced up in shock, eyes widening ever so slightly. Neither of them had hesitated or faltered as they spoke.
Fresh tears welled up in his eyes, but they did not break lose. Human. Rin was... still human. He simply stared once again, unable to think of something to say in response. His brother's words just continued to echo endlessly in his head.
Faith in... my humanity.
Kuro brushed his head against one of Rin's now-limp hands reassuringly. Abruptly, Yukio drew himself up to his full height and extended a hand to help Rin stand. His eyes crinkled with a soft but genuine smile.
"Let's get you cleaned up, Nii-san."