a/n: This one is a little heavy compared to the others. And I'm not sure if I am doing Yukio's character justice. Or if I really like this one at all. Whoops.
The entire way home from the sword smith in Kyoto, Rin was quiet. Sure, all Yukio did was use his key to transport them back to their dorm, so it only took a few minutes, but after bidding their farewells to the sword smith, after an awkward goodbye to the other Exwires, Rin just turned around and walked off without a word.
Yukio had not pushed it. He knew that expression on his brother's face—he was lost in his thoughts. Thoughts which likely consisted of the events that had transpired during their camping trip with the other students. Yukio expected this. He was surprised, however, when Rin wandered passed the kitchen and headed toward the stairs.
"Nii-san? It's nearing seven. Aren't you hungry?"
Rin paused for only a heartbeat before continuing his trek to their room. "No. I'm gonna go to bed."
Quiet. Robotic. That was how the words came out. Yukio frowned, watching him ascend the stairs with slightly-concealed worry.
Kuro came down to eat, but only finished half of the meal Ukobach so passionately served them before treading back upstairs. Yukio himself could not find his appetite, even though he hadn't eaten since noon. It was dreadfully quiet without his brother's company.
When Yukio opened the door to their dorm, Rin was curled up on his bed, facing the wall, tail circling around his body almost protectively. Kuro was tucked in close to his abdomen.
"Nii-san," Yukio prompted.
"They all hate me."
His voice was the same as before: soft, flat. A shadow of the brother whom Yukio became an exorcist to protect.
"They don't hate you."
A dark, humorless chuckle. "It was written all over their faces."
"Maybe they just need time," he offered.
"I don't have time, Yukio." This was true. Rin sat up suddenly and turned to face him, tail angrily swishing across the sheets. "I don't have anything anymore! No friends! No time! No control! Because I screwed up! I just wanted to protect them but I screwed up and—"
His voice broke, eyes watering, and Yukio saw an emotion that looked extremely foreign on his brother's face. An emotion that had, before now, lay dormant under years and years of barely-controlled rage and overly-built confidence and carelessness:
Fear.
Rin was scared.
Because time was not on their side. Because he was only fifteen and death was quickly approaching and his friends seemed like they were abandoning him and the weight of it all sat too heavy on his shoulders and Rin—brash, strong, unbreakable Rin—looked undeniably and eminently scared.
And, for once, Yukio wasn't sure how to save him.