yukio my beloved...

The Monster I Choose to Face

Yukio's problem is that he hates being listless.

It's a sensation that leaves him agitated. There's a buzzing beneath his skin that just won't settle. Doing nothing is a waste of time, hardly relaxing. Which is why, for the most part, he carefully schedules his days in advance, filling in his calendar so that each block of time is perfectly designated and most importantly packed—to remain at the top of his class, he needs to book sufficient time to study, to do homework, to read his textbooks in advance so that he's ready for class; to ensure that his skills as an exorcist don't grow dull, he schedules enough time to spend at the gym and at the shooting range; he makes sure to keep good maintenance of his equipment too and reads up new and old information alike to keep his Doctor skills up to par—he wouldn't want a negligence towards either to put him in a position that would later fill him with regret.

Becoming a part-time teacher has also given him new responsibilities. He has two classes to manage, each as difficult as the other. His advanced courses are filled with people older than him, so Yukio makes sure to give himself sufficient time to prepare for them lest they doubt his ability to teach them. As for the class that his brother is in... That has its own set of challenges. Though the material is easier, he works hard on making sure his classes at least are palatable enough for his brother to make it through them with a margin of success.

All in all, he can't remember the last time he'd had a break.

This is by design.

"Jeez. What are you, forty or fifteen? When was the last time you left this room? It's time to lighten up a little, four-eyes!"

It is unfortunate that unlike his brother, Shura never leaves well enough alone. Yukio hates her a little bit for that.

"Is there something I can help you with?" he asks politely. Though he's not sure why he bothers to try.

Shura leans on the corner of his desk and plucks the pen Yukio had been using out of his grip. His eyebrow twitches but he doesn't allow himself to look any more bothered than that. Rising to the bait would be a defeat on his part and they both know it.

As it is, Shura is already giving him a shit-eating grin. "Yup!" she says cheerily, twirling the pen in her fingers. "I'm in need of a drinking partner tonight, so come with me!"

"I'm not old enough to drink," Yukio points out dryly, unnecessarily.

Shura, never one to be deterred, presses on.

"But that doesn't mean you can't tag along and keep me company, you stiff! Come on! I'll treat you to some good stuff!"

She means, of course, whatever appetizers are available at the izakaya of her choice. Yukio, who's been spoiled by Rin's cooking all his life, isn't very impressed with the offer.

"I'm good," he tells her. "As you can see, I have a lot of work to do."

Shura wrinkles her nose.

"Bah, work. I'm sure it's all things that you can put off. Come ooon," she complains. And from there, it's a ten-minute argument between them. Yukio knows because he counts the time to the second on the clock resting above Shura's head. Once they reach that mark, Yukio has to make a decision. He can tell easily that Shura's in a stubborn mood tonight, so in the end, he lets himself be dragged against his will because it's a pain to protest any further.

Mostly though, it's because this is simply just one more thing to put into his schedule. It may be unplanned, and it may cause him more work down the line, but honestly? More work is something Yukio has never shied away from.

After all, to have anything less than that would mean to leave him to his own thoughts—and that, by far, is a far more frightening monster to face than the demons he'd been trained to kill from a young age.