Yay, I feel like I churned this one out pretty fast. Feeling so accomplished. XD

Quotes:
1. "Those eyes don't belong to you, do they?" This is from chapter 30. Todo says this to Yukio.
2. "I realized, since I was born, I had followed the set path laid out for me...unable to even voice my doubts over the years. Like a dog, I worked for the good of the Order and my family. I wanted to be like my father, like my older brother. Living like that...and what do I have left? Nothing, that's what." This is from chapter 16, again from Todo. Most of the quotes in this chapter are from Todo.
3. "Weakness is something every heart has. Is it frightening to acknowledge it?" Still chapter 16 from Todo. I actually rewrote this one and the one before, so it's just slightly different from the sub in episode 1 (Kyoto Arc) and the translation from the manga.
4. "This path is the one I chose for myself. It had nothing to do with my father or my brother." This is chapter 28, when Yukio confronts Todo the second time.
5. "Even if you do not understand them now, my words will wend their way through your body." Todo says this in chapter 16 right before he runs off.
6. "That's cool! That's awesome! If anyone can do it, you can, Yukio!" This is little tiny Rin talking to Yukio in Rin's flashback from chapter 2, episode 3.
7. "I wonder what it takes to reduce one human being to ash?" This is also from chapter 30. Honestly, Todo is quite scary.

As Yukio had anticipated, it's still dark when he wakes in the morning. He gets dressed as quietly as he can, tucking his shirt in blindly—Father Fujimoto had given him some of his but he needs to buy more—as he grabs his glasses and eases the bottom drawer of the desk open.

He takes the entire bag out, freezing as the plastic rustles loudly. Yukio waits, listening carefully for the soft snuffles of Rin's breathing.

It's only a minor inconvenience—not really an inconvenience at all—that they're sharing a room. It'll be less questionable when they discuss plans there, and in truth, Yukio might have missed it a little.

...Or perhaps, it's more that the silence when he's alone haunts him; it peels at the corners of his doubts and insecurities, drawing on his fears and shading them in starker, more furious lines.

Those eyes don't belong to you, do they?

Yukio comes to an abrupt stop, as he draws a slow breath in, rubbing his eyelids tiredly. There's an uncomfortable pressure building as he blinks that grows worse by the minute. He left the eye drops in their room. In a way, the eyepatch was easier, though both have their inconveniences. It seems he's still not used to this.

Yukio throws his Illuminati uniform in the laundry machine and lets it run as he heads back to their room. Rin has always slept soundly, and Yukio usually never had any trouble leaving in the night—that he knows of. After all, Rin has snuck out many times and Yukio continues to let him believe he's completely unaware.

He turns the knob swiftly, recalling that the hinge squeals incorrigibly when opened too slowly, and grabs his eye drops off the nightstand—

The floorboards creak as he steps down, much to his dismay. Rin shifts, sniffling a little, then his breathing evens out again. Yukio holds his breath, quickly checking that he hasn't forgotten anything else.

Shuffling over to Rin's futon, he leans down, cautiously tugs Rin's pajamas back over his exposed stomach and pulls the blanket up to his shoulders. Rin turns his head a little and Yukio withdraws his arm, poised to spring away if he wakes.

But his eyes stay shut, and Rin's chest rises, falls, rises steadily as Yukio stands there—he's alive, he is here—unable to help the small smile that settles onto his face.

He used to be better at this, Yukio thinks as he leaves.

Checking the time, he applies the eye drops and goes through the rest of his morning routine, minding the healing cuts on his face and hands.

The sky has warmed to a gentle navy blue as he heads out. It's a good morning to run. There's hardly any wind and the frigid air wakes him up as he jogs around the neighborhood. He still remembers the streets here. There are some shops missing and others that are gone in the future, but for the most part, it remains unchanged.

Yukio steps off the sidewalk, following the narrow trough left behind by the parched summer stream. The snow has accumulated here and his foot sinks alarmingly deep, slipping against the collection of pebbles beneath the snow.

It takes him longer than he'd expected, but he finds the small clearing without difficulty. He scuffs at the smooth, icy surface with his boot, captivated momentarily by the air bubbles trapped within its clear depths.

It will suffice.

He opens the front door, meaning to sneak in, when the doorknob is pulled out of his grasp.

"Where have you been all morning?" Rin asks, "Yukio's sick with a fever."

Yukio swipes at the condensation clinging to his glasses guiltily, "How high?"

"Thirty eight," Rin says anxiously, "and he's been coughing since he woke up."

"I'll go take a look at him in a minute."

He hopes it's only the flu. If his temperature rises more, he might have an infection and that'd be more complicated.

Yukio checks the medicine cabinet—it's incredibly well stocked—and puts a glass of water in the microwave, letting it warm up a little.

As he gets to their room, Rin is wringing a towel over a bowl of water by the nightstand and Yukio smiles as he sees his younger self with a cold cloth on his forehead, swaddled in blankets. Younger Rin is sitting by his bed, chattering about a stray cat he saw the other day.

He'd nearly forgotten how often Nii-san used to take care of him when they were younger. A twinge of nostalgia stirs painfully in his chest as he sets the glass of water down. Small, quivering ripples run across the uneven surface of the water as he tries to quell the wave of emotion clinging to his thoughts.

Yukio picks up the thermometer, shaking it firmly until the mercury recedes, and passes it to his younger self, "Do you mind if we measure again?"

Younger Yukio takes it obediently and Rin ruffles his hair, "It's okay, you'll be better soon, I promise. Yuki's a doctor you know," he grins.

Younger Yukio tries to say something but ends up coughing and Younger Rin fidgets with his blankets, clearly upset.

"Let's have them stay home today," Yukio suggests, "I'll call—"

"But we're supposed to finish the ornaments today," Younger Yukio protests, "I wanted to—" he breaks off, coughing again.

"I'll finish yours," Younger Rin promises, "stay home and get better soon!" he insists, clumping the blankets up into a small mountain as though it'll help little Yukio get well faster.

Yukio holds his hand out for the thermometer, "Let's see," he tilts it, squinting at the graduation lines, "you're still at thirty eight."

They'll need to watch him carefully for today, but if it doesn't go any higher, it's not likely he has an infection of any sort. Yukio doesn't remember ever being seriously ill close to their birthday in the past, so he doubts this will last long.

He watches in slight surprise as their faces fall, and quickly amends what he said, "You just need some rest and I think you'll be well in a few days."

Younger Rin beams, "Get lots of rest, Yukio!"

Rin ruffles his hair, "Yeah, let's go make breakfast, okay? Do you think you can eat, Yukio?"

"Yeah," Yukio responds automatically before he realizes his mistake, "I—if you eat, your body will recover faster."

His younger self gives a hesitant nod, "I'd like that," he admits quietly.

Rin pulls his younger self along to the kitchen and as they leave, Yukio finds himself pulling a chair over to the bed.

He brushes his younger self's hair to the side, changing out the towel on his forehead.

"If you can, you should try to sleep," Yukio murmurs, "It's easy to try pushing yourself too hard if you're sick often, but it's okay to take a break."

Younger Yukio's lip trembles as he shakes his head, "I'm used to it now...being sick. I hate it when I have to stay home."

Yukio nods, combing his fingers through soft hair that feels too warm to his own frigid hands. He remembers staying in bed, watching Rin go to school without him. He remembers the envy that simmered beneath his skin every time he asked Rin about his day: if he did anything interesting, if he learned new things, if he'd had fun today.

And he knew, Rin was only trying to make him feel better by giving him amusing stories; carefully remembering every interesting thing he saw so he could tell Yukio about it when he got home. It'd been kind and Yukio appreciated his efforts, even when Rin started to get repetitive.

Every day it was always, how are you feeling today, you'll get better soon, who knows, maybe tomorrow it'll be gone, plus the occasional, you're lucky, school sucks.

At times, it made his own frustration worse.

"I know," Yukio admits as his younger self begins to drift off, "you've always been like this."

Yukio watches as Rin blows gently on a spoonful of rice porridge, checking his watch. "Rin-kun, I'll take you to school," he says, standing to leave.

"Hey, dress warmly," Rin says pointedly, "it's cold outside. Oh, and don't forget his lunch! It's still in the fridge."

Yukio takes Younger Rin's hand, "Let's go now. Nii-san will keep him company."

Yukio helps him get his coat and Younger Rin bounces forward impatiently, "Yukio's been working really hard on this ornament. He sucks at this stuff, but this time it's going to be good," Younger Rin says resolutely, "I'm going to make it the coolest."

Yukio nods, but he doesn't recall making any spectacular ornament, so it must not end up going too well. There's nothing to gain from telling Younger Rin this, although it leaves a confusingly apprehensive feeling in the back of his mind.

He doesn't have the heart to tell Younger Rin otherwise, but the ornament is nothing more than an excuse. An unsuccessful one too, since he's confined despite his efforts.

Nothing used to aggravate him more than being constantly reminded, made perfectly aware of how frail his body was...how little he could do to defy that weakness.

The preschool is only a short walk from the monastery and Yukio lets little Rin lead the way to his classroom. A few other children are already there, seated around a long table, chattering amongst themselves. They welcome Rin easily enough, so Yukio heads over to greet their teacher.

She's young, only five or six years older than himself, with a sunny disposition that seems to fit this place well.

Yukio dips his head, "I'm Okumura Yuki, Rin and Yukio's cousin," he begins, "Yukio is—"

"Oh wow, you look so similar!" she exclaims, "Ah, sorry, my name is Shimizu Hina. It's a pleasure to meet you, Okumura-san."

"Likewise," Yukio smiles, "I came to let you know, Yukio is sick. He and Rin won't be attending class for the remainder of this week. I believe winter break starts soon anyway, is that correct?"

"Yes, that's right. It would be better," she affirms, "so they could keep each other company."

"Of course," Yukio agrees, "I won't keep you any longer then, Shimizu-sensei. Thank you for taking care of Rin and Yukio."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all. Have a great day, Okumura-san."

Yukio waves to Younger Rin as he walks out, heading to the convenience store. His hand is sore and the cuts sting from the cold no matter how he positions his fingers, so he picks the first box of generic acetaminophen off the shelf, cough drops, and a roll of bandages, making his way to the checkout counter.

He stares at the cheerful holiday calendars idly as he waits in line. Their birthday is coming up soon. It would be nice to celebrate it some way...perhaps he could buy some gifts for everyone at the monastery too.

"Morning," the cashier grumbles, "need a bag?"

Yukio shakes his head, grabbing his purchases and leaving swiftly.

At first, he thinks it's the winter air but as he examines it further, he becomes more troubled. It's slight, like a heaviness in his lungs, rendering each breath scarcely inadequate. He feels uneasy.

Something must be wrong. Something happened today, in the past. Only, the more he tries to think about it, the more it eludes him.

He knows it's important, but he can't remember no matter how hard he tries.

Yukio returns to the monastery and as he steps through the gate, he hears shouting—not from inside, but in the back, near the little vegetable garden. A cold chill raises the hairs on the back of his neck as the anxiety he felt earlier rears its head, gripping his limbs with icy fingers. He follows the sound with reserved footsteps, tense and disquieted.

"You never saw what that did to him!" Rin yells, "He told me—he thought he was raised to be a weapon—"

"He's terrified," Father Fujimoto retorts, "you're asking me to tell him the truth, yet leave him defenseless."

Yukio's heart stops as he halts just around the corner, a few feet away from Father Fujimoto and Rin.

He doesn't know why his feet refuse to move, why he can't—why he desperately needs to know what they'll say without him here.

Is he hiding because he's afraid?

If so...of what?

"Why," Rin asks, voice rising furiously, "why does he have to become an exorcist? Mephisto gave me medicine before—if we give him it, he won't be able to see them. He doesn't have to…"

The realization throws his mind into an excruciating turmoil—it'll be their birthday soon.

His younger self is going to start training.

Is that...good?

Yukio's past—his younger self's future—is filled with meaningless accomplishments, each coupled with some garden-variety discontent, stacked up and up like a flimsy pedestal where he'd been isolated; forcing everyone around him away.

I realized, since I was born, I had followed the set path laid out for me...unable to even voice my doubts over the years. Like a dog, I worked for the good of the Order and my family. I wanted to be like my father, like my older brother. Living like that...and what do I have left?

Nothing, that's what.

Are they really so similar?

Father Fujimoto sighs, "What would you have me do then?"

"Whatever else," Rin responds immediately. "When we were kids, he told me he wanted to be a doctor, Yukio's good at anything he does. He can be anything—anyone he wants. Just—he doesn't have to be an exorcist."

Father Fujimoto stays silent for several heartbeats.

"He needs to be, for his own sake, and for Rin's. None of us will be able to protect him forever. It's better for him to learn now, rather than later, when it's too late."

"That's—"

"Just as your past self won't be able to avoid this world, neither will Yukio. He needs to hone his skills now, while he still has time."

"Why did you tell Yukio, but not me then?" Rin asks, voice uncharacteristically tremulous, "Why did you wait so long to tell me? Why do I get to grow up normally, when I'm the one who—it should have been me, not him."

"You know you wouldn't have taken it well."

"Then, don't tell him to protect me or anything like that. I don't need it. Yukio shouldn't be burdened like that. It's not fair to him," Rin says, voice barely above a whisper. "He works too hard already."

Rin pauses for a moment, and…even though Yukio can't see his expression, he can guess which face he's making.

"I'm just the one who can't keep his crap together. I—I can't do anything for him and he's so much farther than I am," he laughs bitterly. "I'm just a good-for-nothing, always on the verge of getting executed, older brother."

Yukio steps away abruptly, unable to listen anymore.

Weakness is something every heart has. Is it frightening to acknowledge it?

He needs to ask himself something.

Something he's forgotten the answer to by now.

"Oh, you're back, Yuki?" Nagamoto greets as he comes inside.

"Ah, yes, but that should be my line," Yukio replies quickly. "How did your mission go?"

"Horribly," Izumi interjects, "some upstart exwire stole the show out of nowhere."

"Yes," Nagamoto agrees, "he was certainly a skilled Aria."

Yukio slips away as the conversation continues, heading to his younger self's room.

He raises his hand to knock, more curtly than he would have liked, "Yukio-kun?"

His younger self looks rather miserable and Yukio is almost tempted to turn back. "I bought some cough drops for you. I always liked these ones."

Younger Yukio smiles, "Thank you! I like these ones too," he says, voice slightly raspy from coughing, as Yukio helps him tear the package open.

Of course, Yukio thinks, they are the same person after all.

Which is why he would know the answer Yukio is seeking.

"Did Father Fujimoto...come talk to you about...something?" Yukio asks, unsure how to phrase his question.

His younger self nods though, and it seems Yukio guessed correctly. Rin must have found out after too, otherwise he wouldn't have been so angry.

"What did you say?"

"...I said I wanted to," his younger self meets his eyes easily, with determination Yukio recognizes well, "become an exorcist."

Yukio smiles, "That's good," he remarks. "You have lots of potential."

"Really? Yuki-san, are you also an exorcist like Tou-san?"

"I was," Yukio admits, "for a bit. I wasn't a very good one though."

"How come?" his younger self asks immediately, and the question sounds so simple, so innocuous.

"I… I'm not sure," he answers and the following silence is awkward, stifling and unbearable. How could he begin to explain, when he doesn't even understand himself where things started to go wrong.

"Why," he clenches his fists as he keeps his voice purposely level, "do you want to be an exorcist?"

This path is the one I chose for myself. It had nothing to do with my father or my brother.

Those words once rang true to him and as he repeated them, it gave him reassurance. Until he told them to himself too many times, and now, they sound more false than ever.

"Um, I…thought it would be good if I could help other people."

"That's a great ambition," Yukio lets his lips curve into a smile, "...but why do you want to be an exorcist?" he pushes. "Aren't there other ways to help people too?"

What hopeful ideal had he clung to those years when he first started his training? What had pushed him forward, even after the gruesomeness of his first kill?

Why had he wanted to become an exorcist so badly?

"I want—" his younger self curls his fingers inward, knuckles turning white from the tautness, "I want to be strong, like Nii-san."

Yukio swallows.

It was a lie from the beginning then. He...didn't choose this for—

"So I won't be scared. I want to help people so…they won't have to feel like I did, because of demons," his younger self says quietly, "I want to fight back."

It's nice; how straightforward—unblemished—it sounds.

Yukio nods, "Don't forget that."

"I won't," his younger self promises, smiling with obvious relief, as though he's passed a test or something—as though Yukio has any say in those things.

He fears that merely not forgetting won't be enough.

Even if you do not understand them now, my words will wend their way through your body.

With nothing in particular to do, Yukio folds his laundry, cleans his glasses, organizes their—rather empty—room, cleans his glasses again, cleans his guns, and putters back and forth until he grows restless.

The priests all seem to be occupied—with what exactly, he's not certain—and Father Fujimoto is nowhere to be found. His younger self is sleeping, and Younger Rin doesn't need to picked up from school for another three hours.

Which only leaves Rin.

With what he heard earlier; he knows they won't be able to avoid the topic.

Still, he makes his way to the kitchen. It's warmer than their room, so Rin's sure to be there.

"Oh, Yuki! Come here, quick!" Rin waves a hand and pats the table, "I need your advice."

Is he going to ask about the training?

Yukio sits reluctantly, "I think...it's fine. As long as it's his decision, I don't want to interfere with that."

Rin's expression turns solemn, "You heard?"

Yukio nods, "I talked to him."

"Then...you're fine with it? Just like that?"

"It was—perhaps it wasn't the best path I could have taken," Yukio traces the flowing grains of the wood table idly, "but I think he would regret it, if we took that choice away from him."

Rin leans forward, slouching in his seat, "Yeah, you know, I honestly thought to myself that I was going to keep you out of it this time, when I...you know, came here," he frowns, pillowing his head on his arms. "It's my fault, that you could see them, that you got dragged into—"

Yukio shakes his head, "There were times I wished I could live a normal life, but neither of us are meant for that."

"Man, it sounds like crap when you say it like that," Rin says, turning the soy sauce dispenser around in circles with one finger.

"Yeah," Yukio says halfheartedly.

He can't be completely honest with himself. As the silence collects, each breath he takes rattles the hairline fractures across his glassy resolve—he doesn't know what's right, what's true.

Is this really the extent of their lives? Couldn't they...do better than this?

Rin straightens up, bringing his hands together in a sharp clap, "That's not what I needed advice on though."

Yukio snaps out of his thoughts, "What?"

"What should I make for lunch?" Rin asks seriously, brows furrowed, "Little Yukio's sick, right? So, since you're, you know, then you should know what he'd want to eat, right?"

Yukio sits there, a little stumped as he tries to rearrange his cluttered thoughts from the sudden change in conversation topic.

"Anything you make is good," he smiles.

Rin sighs dramatically, ducking out of the pantry to raise an unimpressed eyebrow at Yukio, "Tch, I knew you'd be useless."

Yukio laughs, "I'm sorry?"

"Yeah, you better be, four-eyes," Rin retorts, "start by helping me peel this potato and quit it with the moping already."

He plops the potato into Yukio's hands, "Where did your confidence from yesterday go? You're ready to save the world, but you get cold feet when it comes to yourself?"

"That's…" he can't meet Rin's eyes.

But Rin places his hands on Yukio's shoulders heavily, startling him into looking up, "You can do this," he says firmly, "If anyone can, it'd be you."

That's cool! That's awesome! If anyone can do it, you can, Yukio!

How can he say those things so easily—so lightly?

Because what Rin said is true...if Yukio can't do it, surely there is no one else who can.

Yukio wakes cautiously, and his head pounds as he sits up.

It's dark, like he wanted, but his limbs feel incredibly sluggish and he wants nothing more than to keep sleeping.

Luckily, Rin is snoring soundly, so Yukio hopes he doesn't notice the racket as he proceeds to drop his glasses, then his watch, bumping into a few other things on his way out.

No one else is up yet, which is good.

A stubborn tuft of hair bounds back up as he dabs water on it. It's unfortunate that his hair isn't up to his usual standards today, of all days. He'll just have to hope for the best.

They didn't mind the first time, but they've always been fickle.

Yukio grabs the papers he made, his guns—he should clean them when he gets back—and a flashlight as he heads out.

The snow on the ground is piled thick from the storm last night. The air is horribly cold and by the time he's nearly there, shivers rack his frame and his fingers are numb as he fumbles around, pushing snow aside to uncover a small window of the frozen pond.

Yukio thrusts his heel down, shattering the thick sheet of ice, watching as the jagged cracks continue to grow, stopping about halfway across the pond. More water is always better, so he makes his way to the other side, smashing the rest of the ice until the pond's surface is littered with uneven shards.

Sunrise won't begin for another hour, but the transient violet of dawn has already colored the sky. He needs to hurry.

Yukio sets the summoning papers around the pond in the best circle he can manage, pinning them down by packing snow on their corners. He connects each point by drawing lines in the snow, knowing the runes by heart.

His guns are at his hip if anything goes wrong.

He takes a deep breath of the frigid morning air and grits his teeth as he slashes a shallow cut across his left palm with a knife. The blood is warm as it trickles down his cold fingers; he lets it splash onto the summoning paper closest to him and four errant drops fall into the water, blooming across its surface.

Corycia, Melaina, Cleodora, Cleochareia, Bateia, Drosera, Solaia, Periboea.

Glistening turquoise floods his vision as he staggers, falling to his knees. He breathes harshly as the gentle, tinkling echoes of shallow water join their teasing laughter to surround him.

Even now, he still desperately hungers for power. The vestiges of his desire burn—fueled by his uncertainties, his cowardice—with a fragile, intoxicating warmth he doesn't have the will to let go of.

I wonder what it takes to reduce one human being to ash?

The snow under his hand becomes stained faintly red, sharp granules of ice stabbing at the raw, pulsing wound as he clenches his fingers into a fist. This is different. He needs this strength; not just for himself.

"I'm here," Yukio smiles wanly, "to make a contract."

He's going to drown Todo Saburota before he ever has a chance to meet his younger self.

Notes:

Hello!

I don't have class today, so I'm really happy! :D I wrote this chapter pretty quickly, and I think I'm going to try moving the plot along more next chapter. It'll probably take me a while to write though, maybe a month, because I'm getting busier now.

So, Yukio uses a mercury thermometer in this, so that's why he shakes it. Mercury ones are more accurate, but not commonly used anymore because there's risk for poisoning and stuff. This is why it's important to only use it in the axilla (armpit) not orally. They're really accurate because the metal expands when heated, so the mercury will climb up if your temperature is higher. :) Anyway, before you use one, you have to make sure the mercury is below 35 C, so you just hold the glass end and shake it so the mercury slides down. This is kind of because mercury will adsorb (not be confused with absorb) to the glass, so it kind of sticks there after you measure temperature. Then, when you need to use it again, it's too high.
Mercury thermometers kind of got banned in a lot of places around 2012, but this is set in 2008, so I'm just going to go with that it's still common. I mean, I still like to use a mercury thermometer. I don't know if anyone else does, but the electronic one I have literally tells me I have hypothermia when I feel like I have a fever. XD

Also, I realized, I used Celcius, so in case anyone is confused, little Yukio's temperature is around 100.4 F, which isn't too high. Typically, if your temperature gets higher than that, your body's trying to fight very serious infection like pneumonia or some kind of other nasty thing. Although, with children, fevers can be rather scary, but usually 38 is reasonably okay. :D

This chapter was very Yukio-centric, so I'll probably add a flashback for Rin's conversation (from his perspective, not Yukio's) with Shiro later.

I compared what Yukio says to Rin in chapter 96 to the stuff Todo tells him in chapter 28-30, and they're almost word for word...which is kind of upsetting. Of course, Yukio probably thought most of those things before anyway, but hearing Todo voice them aloud probably didn't do anything good for him.

Oh, and, willowcatkin suggested that I have Yukio address their younger selves with the -kun honorific. It's kind of cute and usually for kids, peers and teachers use it for students sometimes.

Hmm, I don't really have many notes for this chapter. I hope I don't have too many typos. I probably should have proofread a few more times before posting this. Maybe I'll come back and fix some of them later. Please tell me if you find any! I promise I won't mind at all! In fact, it'd be super helpful actually. :D

Thanks so much for reading! I'm always super happy to see that people are reading this. :) Thank you for your support! Please feel free to leave comments on things you liked or stuff you think could be improved if you have time! Hearing feedback is really nice. It leaves me happy for the rest of the day. XD
I hope you'll like this chapter. ^^

- bluewindfall