7

"Yukio."

"Hm?" He turned his head to the left, blinking, then rising his lids almost sleepily at the black cat.

His fur was so shiny. The familiar took pride in cleaning himself; he had spied him multiple times licking his coal-colored fur coarsely. Eventually, it would air dry, and the straight, once damp paths, would disappear.

They both sat under a hooded balcony of a run-down pub, overlooking a phenomenal view of the more historic part of London. Slowly they'd worked their way to the edge of the city, scrimmaged through a junkyard, as if a pair would run, slipping under and around broken automobiles like someone would in a zombie apocalypse. Carrying only what belongings they needed left them wise, and light-on-the-feet.

It was fallout for them. The wreckage had provided them ample protection from blabber-mouthing commoners, police, anyone that seemed a threat. Rabbits they were, ducking in and out of holes, avoiding all life, on purpose.

They had nobody, except each other.

The Vatican's reach? They had no idea how far it expanded. Any random drunk could be a cohort. It was their prerogative not to dabble in excess anywhere too long, with anyone in England.

'No words, No image.' Yukio had kept that concept since the day they escaped, ducking in hotels.

"Yuki?" Kuro repeated.

"Yeh." He pushed the bridge of his glasses up with his index finger. It was drizzling heavily, specks of water remained on the lens, illuminated like tiny globes. Giving up all hope of keeping them clean, he simply bared the fact that the small droplets made his view of their environment concave, and the rooftops of businesses appear like liquid.

"Was the last time..." Kuro finished licking, and hesitated, "the rain..."

"Yeh." Yukio cut him off, curt and abrupt. Deja-vu was creeping in, a passenger in his mind, that propelled an emotion so heavy, that it seemed to weigh down his sense of mobility. He was pinching his lip, trying not to think.

The last time... Satan had infiltrated his body. He had watched his body move... by itself, on it's own accord, with someone else in the passenger seat, who had set his form on fire. Then his sight went black, only to open again to a disaster. His eyes seen the unimaginable, like a view through a strange kaleidoscope: his brother, white, a purple tinge to his lips. Wet. Dying. Choking.

So much blood... so little time as the reaper closed in on him.

When it started to shower profusely, Kuro sensed something was wrong. Since Yukio had become a demon, (and in the same way that he could with Rin), he could feel a more definitive drone from him, a drumming buzz. It was an attachment, a pitched link that spanned between all demon kind: The ability to not only speak with Yukio finally, both orally and telepathically, but also, a more defined sense of 'emotion', strong, similar to how a chemical evaporates off of skin.

"I know you're crushed."

Pulling the string tighter on his hoodie, it crunching and closing down into a smaller hole around his freckled cheeks, he let it slip as he played with the sapphire ring on his finger:

"I... I am."

Yukio for some reason, didn't seem as focused on factual information as he normally was. Kuro could see breathing, the air moving through his nose in quick drags, his chest under thick clothing heaving. Only one logical thing made since: he was fighting. Something was on his mind, and it was proving a challenge.

"Want t'talk?" He gawked, concerned. They had been silent for a few hours prior.

Yukio brought his knees to his chest, his arms around sweatpants. A gesture unlike him. His chin jutted out to rest in the gap between his knees, his glasses off, closed. A companion, and a dynamic 'crisis alert' partner Kuro had proved himself to be. A comrade in this crazy slavery he felt from the Vatican. His innate ability to 'understand' both puzzling and perplexing.

"I trained so hard." His lips suddenly spurted, a downcast shadow framed and outlined two shallow, under-eye spaces, thin, and malnourished. "I molded my behavior. I adopted all the morals."

The cat nodded.

"I was grateful that his blood-thirst would end at my hand... and not in anybody else's."

"Mm." The purring stopped.

"Yeh." He let a long, slow wad of spit swirl in the inside of his mouth before he swallowed it. "His ability to..." He considered his choice of words. "love."

Kuro listened intently, not sure where he was going with this.

"I seen... innocence, by living so closely with him. When..." Yukio laid his head down on his knees. "I had been so callous."

"What're you sayin'?"

"That there's two sides to my 'absence'." He put emphasis on the word, acknowledging the fact, but using a less dampening word to describe the mutiny of the Vatican faking his death. "I must find out what's going on in Rome... but..."

"But?" Kuro was on his toes. This was what he had stowed away with Yukio for. He wanted to know himself what was going on. Yukio kept switching from emotion to fact. Thankful just for this brief instance of the teen speaking from heart, he hoped someday he'd be able to manage a more emotional life rather than living like a drone. This situation. It was right in front of Kuro, it had left them both inconvenienced, and it was bringing things out in Yukio that he'd never seen before.

"The chance of Rin becoming the human-killer. It's the highest it's ever been." Yukio turned his head the other direction and laid it down, not facing the familiar at all. His blurry vision lay fixed on one particular rooftop that had a reddish-brown color for shingles. "This, this 'death' of mine. Could prove to be a climax." A tail moved under clothing. He ignored it.

"Do you mean to say... that from Rin's heart-brokenness, that he'll foster an intent to kill?"

"If he lets it make him bitter. I, I don't know why I didn't think of this until now. I guess... " Yukio sighed. "I guess I was just focused on what we were doing." There was defeat in his words.

"I don't think... Rin, Rin would do that. Compassion runs his flames Yuki." The little cat kind of stammered, bewildered that the demon aside him said such a thing.

"Damn it, I mean, how do you know Kuro?" He snapped, facing him again, a flash of lightning making his features instantly white, then black. Enough for Kuro to see a look of panic across his face. "This is something that is ceaseless! Something that no shaman can shake a rattle over, that no bandage can heal! I thought that he might of been torn up, but the more I inspect this in my mind, the more I realize that this one tremendously vile, controlled move of the Vatican, it could unleash what I thought Rin had somehow shackled, and turn him into something barbaric."

"Yukio, I don't..." He was unable to grasp it. Rin his playmate. "I don't want to think that."

"I'm sure you don't. I don't. I feel evermore, that I am back to where I was mentally with Rin over a year ago! All of this... it's wiped away all the progress. It could destroy Rin's behavior. He's a demon... he might become the horror from the books I read as a boy. That'd I'd been trained to kill."

"You forget... You're a demon now Yukio."

"Yeh? But I'm an exorcist. I'm a harden soldier, a used tool. Rin? Rin's!" He barked, a mixture of emotions so complex that Kuro couldn't place them all. "Rin's... Rin's not! He's this soft shell... and this turmoil," His teal eyes, intense, the black orbs in the center meeting Kuro's green with a type of seriousness nobody could understand, "It's going to break his back."

Kuro spoke, getting firm, remembering that one tear Yukio shed at the first realization of his death being faked, and Rin, being left alone with this news. Yukio had wiped that tear away so... fast. Mechanical.

He tried to strengthen Yukio's faith. "Give Rin more credit." His slits narrowed. "Rin's been a demon longer than you, remember that too."

"But does that make him able to deal with this?" Thunder grumbled, adding to the flavor of environment his words: angry, stark.

"Not necessarily... but since Rin's been a demon longer, he knows how to deal with his gift of the flame. He knows it's his rage that causes it to flare. He's spent nearly a year, and he's made some progress, a little, but not a lot. You haven't even started to touch-on the beginnings of the fire yet."

Yukio forced air out of his nose and looked away, slamming his glasses on so frustratedly, it seemed as if he would break them. Getting tired of not being able to see. It reminded him of recent past events. If he was to behold Rin's broken body at any point through those spectacles, some strange vision, that would plummet him in this very moment.

"What's more important to you Yukio?" Kuro blurted. His words were calculated. He had been curious. He wanted to hear the words spoken into the air. He figured if Yukio heard himself speak those words, in his own voice, then maybe, that'd shed more light on the situation.

"What?"

"You heard me. Does a cat have to speak it again?"

Yukio didn't respond.

Kuro realized now. He knew what was going on inside of the teenage boy's mind. "What's more important to you?" The cat slowly spoke, as he watched Yukio look distantly off over rooftops, covered in sheeting, gray rain, every shape looking dull against the overcast sky. "Finding out what's going on at the Vatican, or your brother's sanity... chancing he'll become a serial killer?"

"I..." Yukio's mouth fell slack.

His mind raced in some many directions. The Vatican, he so desperately wanted to know. Why the hell would they save him? Especially after Rin did as he wanted, that enraged him to no end. It had something to do with him, it had to. If the Vatican didn't want him alive, they wouldn't of saved him. They wouldn't of allowed him to live, especially with the fact that he was Satan's true, if not 'truer' vessel than his brother.

Then there was Rin. Yukio knew. It was more than knowing. It was feeling. The looks, in the touches, his brother, Rin... he knew he'd change. The touches. The looks would change. He thought at his death that he'd perhaps become an exorcist, excel, Yukio seen him obey, by stabbing him. But the fact that Rin was in inadvertently lied to? Rin didn't know, he went on living his life as if his brother was dead.

Yukio didn't want the Vatican to hurt Rin, especially knowing that they lied to him. It had to of been purposeful. But, Yukio knew...

"If I choose a path of selfishness... I go with you to Rome Kuro, to the Vatican, to attempt to find out what is going on... because that involves what is going on with me, then I choose to allow Rin to continue to believe I'm dead." The sentence ended with a hitch in his throat, a swell of something which suddenly made him stop talking.

"And?" Kuro ushered for him to continue.

"At first, a few months ago, when we were escaping that hospital, that was all I could think about. It coursed through me like a deep anger, I wanted information, and I wanted it now. I was impatient, I'm used to having what I want." Yukio continued. "We haven't had much success getting out of London. Our slow progress, albeit, it is progress, it's given me some time to think." He sighed. "It's given me nothing but time to think."

The rain got louder, heavier, and began to bang over their heads. It was hailing, the storm awful, and more amplified.

"So what's the other side of it Yukio?" Kuro spoke louder, practically yelling over the atmosphere.

"I'm concerned. What if we go to Rome Kuro? Then what?" Yukio got louder to match the feline.

The cat shook his head, licked a paw.

"Like I said, that means Rin goes on." He got a little showy with his hands, something else very unlike himself. It showed his disgust for the idea as he spoke it with a chill, as it escaped his breath, like a curse itself. "Rin goes on without a brother! What about that?!" Yukio's words sizzled. "What if I don't find out what the hell's going on in Rome? It's been two months Kuro! Two! And we just made it to this side of London! Ridiculous!"

Kuro was taken aback at the cussing. His demon companion, never had he seen him this wild in his words.

"How long is it going to take us then to get to Rome? Rome is in Italy Kuro! Italy! I don't have my blessed keys! I have nothing, you have nothing."

Lightning struck down flashing incredibly bright for a second. Kuro seen a single tear rounding Yukio's cheek.

He was so mad, but yet was still trying to control himself, being Yukio, he let only one fall, another single tear.

Watching Yukio mourn to Kuro, seeing that one singular drop leak down over his freckled cheek, it spoke oceans. It was all he'd let himself do, and it was enough to get his point across. Kuro was quickly learning that even though withholding of most physical emotion, that when an action showed through the barrier, it meant ultimate turmoil under his skin.

"I feel that if I decide to be selfish... Kuro..."

Kuro had already been watching him, but this time, his eyes widened at Yukio's silhouette, dark and shadowed. Haunting.

"How long's it going to be?"

"Long?"

He quieted, as the rain got softer, but the lightning remained flashing all across the sky and grumbling like a dragon.

"How long will it be until I see him again?" Yukio's voice swelled with a distinct, deep-welled disgust.

How dare the Vatican do this?! How dare they do this to him! How dare they do this to...

Us.

"Years... It'll be years." He hushed.

"It seems like the question you need to ask yourself Yukio, is, what's more important? Suddenly seeing Rin... that look on his face? After it being years? Him thinking your dead... he might not accept it, as reality."

He responded instantly, "I wouldn't."

"What d'you mean?"

"I mean... if it was turned around." Yukio wiped his cheeks feverishly, cleaning his face entirely of any trace of his tear. "If Rin was dead, and then he came back years later, I wouldn't be excited. I'd be..." He snorted. "Furious."

Kuro crunched his eyes in.

"Why not come back immediately?"

"Yuki." The cat voice.

"Hm?"

"I'm proud of you."

"What?" Yukio turned. That statement caught him by surprise.

"I am." The familiar breathed. "I was never close to you. Some of it was how you weren't a demon, that made it hard to communicate with you, but there were other reasons. I had a difficult time relating to you because you were so... selfish."

Slience. Eyes unmoving, stuck.

"Yukio, I'm blunt. I'll say it... The first time I really seen an unselfishness from you was when you let yourself die to save Rin, and all his friends, everyone really. It was heroic, and dangerous, but you did it. It was a major sacrifice. But now? Yukio, you may not notice it on your own, but before the ultimate sacrifice you committed, you never would of considered Rin's well-being at all. Admit it."

He moved his mouth like he was going to say something, then snapped it shut.

"The whole reason you hounded Rin so badly with his studies is because you wanted him to be a good student, so he could become an Exorcist, to serve, it was your will, not because you thought it'd be good for him personally. I mean, I'm sure you figured that any 'learning' would serve and do Rin some good, but the root of it was selfishness on your part. Also, the fact that you were trained since you were 8 years old to kill Rin. It was selfish. You can say all you want, that it was for the 'good of humanity', but Rin told me about that incident awhile ago now. He tried to give you a simple hug, and you pointed a gun at his head. You were scared. You'd do it, if it meant saving yourself."

Teal eyes wavered.

"I was never close to you even more so because I never understood why you were an exorcist. Okumura Yukio. So successful with two meisters at fifteen, with an unimaginable secret duty of having to kill your brother if he went wild, so quiet as a person, and a good study. The girls, they love you, the boys wished they could be you. You were the weaker one when you twins were younger. You wanted to excel. Being an exorcist appealed to your inner most, personal desires."

The rain poured and the Yukio remained like ice, still, a block.

"Do you want to know something about Rin?"

A low hum came from Yukio's throat.

"Rin put himself through all of it, all of the studies you wanted him to do, all the flame training that he was so bad at. Not even with studies, but with cooking, with his personality. He did all of it..." Kuro sighed. "Because he wanted you Yukio, his little brother..."

Yukio turned away, a frown laced with grimace. He already knew what Kuro was going to say.

"To be proud of him."

Yukio sniffled and turned to Kuro again his eyes floating around the area the cat was in, but not actually looking at him.

"You could say all you want, because I've heard you say it in the past, that this is somehow 'making you weak'. Blaming your true, real emotions, on the situation, looking at it from an outside perspective. Or you can just accept that this wasn't something you'd planned on, the Vatican doing what it did, and for the first time in your life... that you're beginning to care about your brother. True, real, care."

Thunder growled.

"That this situation is actually beginning to make you consider the feelings of others around you."

Yukio's throat was strained, his breath stuttering. His voice spoke, and it didn't sound like Yukio, for it was a voice so deeply intertwined with feeling that Kuro almost didn't recognize it:

"How... can. He be so selfless?"

His mind, lofty in it's thought. How was it possible? He thought himself as the elite twin for so long. The one who learned faster, was smarter, who was inclined to do more things in life, who served a power that was logical, that was helping others somehow, resolute and worthy.

All of it was crumbling around him.

His persona, Kuro stirred things inside of him that he pushed away, and never had time to inspect. It was like he knew it was selfish, but he was lying to himself, telling himself it was to help other people, those he considered his friends, his own brother.

It made him slightly sick. He had used. Used even, his own brother as... a scapegoat.

"He is, he just is." Kuro simply stated, scratching his head with his hind foot.

"I don't want..." Yukio breathed in so deep. He was accepting. "that... destroyed."

"So, that's what you choose?"

"Yes." The glare in the reflections of his glasses made patterns in his eyes.

Kuro nodded.

Rin. His brother...

Like a soft chiffon. Blue. A blood-stained hand falling from a soft cheek. Then... nothing at all.

Never would he of wished this on his worst enemy. So evil. As a few months had went along... He knew it. He knew that Kuro was right. Everything was changing, and as much as he didn't want to admit it, to hold so tightly and closely onto his old life... it was over. He was now one of the very things that he had seen as abominations.

It was ironic how once you become one, a demon, yourself, how your whole perspective changes.

Yukio wasn't ready to give up his upbringing, to uproot himself from his training, to let go. But he was no longer seeing the Vatican as his moral grounds. When he was a human, it held him to his rights. But, now? Now that he was a demon, and seeing such vile efforts of the church? The only morality he could think of, training, was to throw it all out, and start over. Sure, he still wanted his guns, those ivy laced familial weapons, he'd retain his knowledge. But... Kuro even said that that had been toyed with, the books and educational tools a sole hack-job.

So... Who was he? What was his title? Did it matter?

Okumura Yukio, Exorcist? But wasn't he 'missing in action' from the church itself, which went against his meisters when he pledged unfailing loyalty? Was he Okumura Yukio, Professor? He was, but everyone thinks he's dead. Gone. Okumura Yukio, Demon? Something he wasn't entirely willing to accept just yet, and the kind that he killed thousands of, at his hands alone? Does that mean that he is now somehow, a murderer himself?

The only thing he knew at this point... was to follow his gut.

His instinct told him...Okumura Yukio: Brother.

Rin, his lazy, silly, and sometimes incompetent brother. Snoring in the classroom, drooling over a manga in bed, asleep once again. Then wide-eyed, eyes filled so full of deep sea that it seemed impossible to grasp the depth, looking at him, that vision of him eating a popsicle, smiling, and laughing at his awkwardness.

Yukio, he just, he couldn't stop. Rin had spied him, staring, and, called him by name. And?

He smiled in response.

Only one time. A small, graceful smile.

That's when it first dawned on him. He knew why it was his last vision before his death.

Innocence.

He seen it, right there... he seen it. Vast. Spanning, across his brother's face. Pale, like an empty moon, pure like the evening sky.

He was taken in it, in that moment. It was a reminder of childhood simplicity, before everything got mixed.

Forever, Yukio knew, he'd remember.

His last image. His last scene.

It was Rin.

It'd always be Rin.

And it'd never escape him.

It was imprinted in his soul.

You're more important to me... than myself.

You are the only thing that feels right in this world.

I'm coming. I'll be there.

I'll find you.