a/n: hi! sorry for disappearing for over 2 months! i was being a dummy. but i'm back with some completely pointless, stupid drama that doesn't make sense that I'm probably overusing but who cares! :D also, i know i skipped day 5, but that's cos i used that prompt for something else! not sure if Yukio was actually there when Rin got drunk but eh, i'm too lazy to go back and check XD

December Prompts / Day 6: "He/she is drunk again."

"Dude. What's with Okumura?"

The question came from Suguro. Yukio blinked upon suddenly being interrupted during his lecture—and by one of his top students, no less—capping and putting down the vial in his hand, before turning to face his brother with a surprised expression.

Before he could study Rin enough to give an answer, Shima said, "Holy shit. He's drunk again."

"No," Rin said, wagging a finger, a big grin on his face. His eyes were dilated. "Not drunk. Nope."

Another blink. Of course Rin couldn't be drunk. Class was in session, and it wasn't like he was old enough to drink anyway. Except... wait. What did Shima mean, again?

"You sure?" Suguro asked, raising his brows and crossing his arms. "You're like a cat high on catnip."

Yukio paused, looking at his brother and seeing the way his tail twitched and moved about freely, with no restrictions. The way he leaned back in his chair, tipping it ever-so-slightly and then letting it come back to the floor. Even Shiemi looked concerned by his sudden, strange behavior.

Wait a minute.

You gotta be kidding me.

Slowly, Yukio looked back at the half-full vial now sitting on his desk. It contained a recently-designed chemical that was specially made to distract and influence demons, causing them to act more friendly. This was especially helpful in cases like Kuro. His lecture was about the dangers of using too much, and that the chemical was still in the works, so they wouldn't be using it until it was completely perfected. Today was just supposed to be a sample.

He'd been careful with the amount in the bottle because of Rin, but it seemed that he underestimated how sensitive Rin could be to even the smell of it. Even just a few drops was enough to send him spiraling.

Lovely, he thought sarcastically.

"I know what's going on," he announced, heaving a frustrated sigh. This was all his fault. "It's the vial."

"Oh my god," Kamiki muttered. "You got him high."

"I'm not high," Rin said in defense. "I'm right here, on the ground. Don't you see?"

Oh, boy. Yukio should have been more prepared for this. Class had twenty minutes left, and the way Rin was acting was definitely a distraction to his other students. It'd take at least that long for him to snap out of it.

"Well, isn't this a treat," Suguro said with a smirk.

"Alright, class, change of plans," Yukio said calmly, because even with this surprise, he was still their instructor. He still had to reign them in. "Get out your books and—"

"Aww, man," Shima said with a groan. "So now we have more work?"

"Sorry," Rin said instantly, looking suddenly withdrawn. His smile was gone, stolen by shame, and his eyes were still wide, filled with pupil. "He's doing this 'cause he's mad at me, huh? It's always me. 'Cause I'm a fuck-up. Maybe I should go."

Yukio's frown deepened. Part of him wanted to reassure Rin that he wasn't a 'fuck-up', but now wasn't the setting. He'd let it slip when his students were cursing, but it was unprofessional to do the same. "Okumura-kun, I'd like for you to remain seated. I'm not angry. I'd just like my class to focus on their work, that's all."

"Can't," Rin said, shaking his head. "S'too much."

Yukio suppressed a sigh. Once again, his chance to reply was taken when Shiemi asked, "What's too much?"

"The work," Rin blurted, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Gotta train so I don't die! Gotta train so I don't hurt people! Gotta train so I can make up for killing Dad! I don't have time to read books! So... so yeah. Can't focus on that, Yukio. Got other things to worry about."

The silence that followed Rin's outburst was deafening. Yukio stoned his expression as quickly as he was able, ignoring the shocked looks of his students. Said shortly, "Class is dismissed."

"But Okumura-sensei—" Miwa began.

"Class is dismissed," he repeated, slower this time. "Be sure to read over your notes from today. We'll have a short quiz next time."

Gradually, his students rose from their seats, all traces of humor disappearing as they gathered their things and made their way out of the classroom. Rin stayed in his chair, glancing around like he was unsure of what was going on. When they had all left—even Shiemi, who lingered by the door for a considerable amount of time with teary eyes—he said finally, "Sorry. I did it again. I fucked up."

He sounded so young. Vulnerable. Like when they were children, and he got into fights, and he'd come home with bruises and cuts and a look of shame. Yukio's stoic mask cracked just a little.

"You didn't fuck up," he said softly, sighing as he walked over to his brother's desk.

Rin hummed noncommittally. His head came to rest in his arms, eyes fluttering like he was getting ready to pass out. Yukio tucked away that information for later, wondering if it was the chemical or if he was just really tired.

"I'm sorry, Nii-san," he murmured. "This isn't your fault. It's mine."

"Never your fault," Rin corrected, stubborn but sluggish. "You're perfect."

Yukio almost scoffed. Much as he tried, he wasn't—and could never be—perfect. If he was honest, he wished he could be more like Rin. Because Rin wore his heart on his sleeve, could rush in without thinking, and yeah, there were definitely consequences from his actions, but Rin took them all in one stride.

Or at least... that's what he'd thought. It came to his attention, not for the first time, that Rin carried a lot more on his shoulders than a lot of people realized.

"No," he breathed, shaking his head gently. "I'm not perfect, Nii-san."

Rin paused. Then, slowly: "Everyone left."

"Yeah," Yukio said with a chuckle that was hollow. "I dismissed the class, remember?"

Silence. Then, just as quickly as his attitude shifted, it did it again, and he was giggling. "I remember now. Time to go."

"Yeah," he murmured after a time, still caught on his words from earlier, on that expression of that screamed self-hatred, on his words of frustration, on his students' stunned expressions. "Time to go."