When Yukio wakes up, he's unsure of where he is.
The room – no, the tent, he realizes – is dim, aside from the thin streams of light peeking through the gaps between the tent's entrance. After a few seconds for his eyes to adjust, Yukio's able to somewhat make out his surroundings.
He's lying on a cot, wrapped in several thick blankets. He feels pressure on his face and, reaching his hand up to it, feels a large bandage covering his right cheek. The swelling of his cheek and lower eyelid, mostly concealed by the bandage, presses uncomfortably against his eye. Another, smaller bandage had been placed next to the left corner of his mouth.
Rin's combative techniques may be subpar, but he can pack quite the punch.
At that thought, Yukio bolts upright, but calms when he sees his brother on the other side of the tent in the same setup as Yukio. He's sleeping in the weird way he normally does, with his eyes partially open and a line of drool making its way down his chin. At the sight of him, clearer memories of the day before come rushing back, so much so that they make Yukio dizzy. He hunches forward, clutching his head with his hands.
"I'll do everything I can to make you kill me."
Rin isn't fond of the idea at first, but they fight anyway. It's a brutal battle, and they both nearly kill each other. But gunshots to the forehead, neck, and chest aren't enough to fully deter Rin as his demonic side awakens in a violent comeback. Yukio survives brutal blows to the head before suddenly there's a sharp, fiery blue light penetrating through his left eye and into his skull. It doesn't hurt – rather, it's actually warm – but he feels Satan fighting back against it until a mighty blast from his eye wreaks havoc upon the airship. Amidst the commotion his head is slammed against the floor, rendering him unconscious.
When he wakes up, he's somewhere else, with Rin hovering over him, checking to see if he's okay. Further fighting ensues until Yukio eventually breaks down. All of the anguish, the trauma, the envy of his sixteen years of life comes out, and he sobs for the first time in God knows how long, tears and snot running down his bloody, bruised face and falling to the ground below him.
"I wanted to get stronger. I didn't want to rely on anyone. I wanted to solve everything myself. I wanted to believe I could do that…like you!"
Rin is speaking to him but Yukio can hardly comprehend it, stuck in his own grief, until suddenly Rin's holding his face in his hands.
"If I'm strong, it's because I had you!"
And Yukio watches his brother fall.
He grabs Rin's arm before he can succumb to the fiery destruction of the depths below and uses all of his remaining might to pull him upwards. The rest is foggy, but he remembers one more crucial thing that Rin tells him.
"I made an unforgivable mistake," Yukio says.
"Who said it was unforgivable?"
It would be almost laughable if it wasn't so devastating. How could anyone forgive him for the atrocities he's committed? All of the people that he cares about have been afflicted by his own self-loathing and anguish. How can he ever return to the life that he once had?
Yukio shakes his head, trying to snap himself out of the raging storm of thoughts. He tries to find something tangible, in the now, to focus on.
Glasses. He needs his glasses.
He looks around and quickly finds two pairs resting atop a pile of clothes in a wooden crate. He leans over to take a pair and set them on his face. As the world comes into focus, Yukio throws off the blankets, pushes himself upright, and turns so that his feet touch the floor of the tent. Coldness bites through the clothes that someone had dressed him in – a black long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants – and he shivers. He takes the outfit set out for him – a pale beige longcoat, thicker than the usual exorcist uniform that he wears, a belt, and a familiar pair of boots. He puts them on, the instant warmth a very welcome sensation, and notices the Armumahel pistols. They're a grim reminder of the past five days, but he thinks they may still be of use. He slides them into the holsters on his belt. He stands up, taking the blankets that he'd been sleeping in and folding them up neatly atop the cot. He passes one last glance to his brother and, with a deep inhale, heads for the tent's opening.
When he steps outside, he's immediately met with the frigid air and wind stinging his face. Suguro, Izumo, Miwa, and Shima are gathered around a makeshift stovetop, chattering quietly but fervently. Two steaming pots are set on the stove, their warm and rich aroma making Yukio's stomach growl.
"Oh, Mr. Okumura, you're awake!"
Yukio startles at Miwa calling his name. The other students turn to look at him as well.
"We're making soup. It should be ready shortly. You're more than welcome to it!" Miwa continues.
"Yeah, if Shima here doesn't take it all for himself," Izumo adds.
"Wh-hey! I'm not that bad!"
"Then what exactly have you been doing the past few days?"
They bicker, and Yukio feels too out of it to pay much attention. The fact that his students – former students, he reminds himself, as he's not affiliated with the True Cross anymore – are sitting here and talking to him as though it was any other day is more than jarring.
"Oh, are you okay, Mr. Okumura? You and your brother looked pretty roughed up when we found you," Suguro asks, cutting through Izumo and Shima's arguing. They quiet themselves and turn their attention back to Yukio.
His stomach starts to twist with unease. He doesn't think he's actually spoken to Suguro since the wedding. He tries to shake the image of Suguro's terrified face with the barrel of Yukio's gun against his chin.
The worry lining Suguro's face now, though, isn't from fear. It's from concern, the kind that one would show for a friend's wellbeing. Right now, he's worried for Yukio, not by him. The realization weighs heavy in his chest and Yukio tries to pull himself together because he's already hesitated for too long.
"Y-yeah, I'm okay." He tries not to cringe at the way his voice cracks. He tucks a finger between his scarf and his neck, slightly tugging at it.
"That's a relief," Suguro says with a smile. Yukio tries to smile back, but his features twist into something more of discomfort.
Desperate for anything else to focus on, he looks around, taking in the expanse of his surroundings for the first time since he's stepped out. In the distance he notices helicopters, presumably from the True Cross, given the presence of his former students. He sees people working, transferring supply boxes, giving orders, and talking amongst themselves.
The rest of the land is barren, coated with a thick blanket of snow. He notices an area of raised ground not far off, rocks peaking up above the ground and observing the expansive land before them. It looks like a quiet, peaceful spot.
"I'm gonna go stand over there," Yukio says, turning his head towards the rocks.
"Oh…okay. We'll let you know when the food's ready," Miwa says, and while he tries to hide the concern in his voice, it's more than evident in his expression and mirrored in the faces of the other students as well.
"Thank you," he says with a nod. He quickly turns around and walks towards the edge of the rocks. Snow crunches beneath his boots and wind blows through his hair, making his bangs a mess.
He stops some feet away from the edge of one of the rocks. He sets his hands on his hips, taking in his surroundings again for a few moments. He then closes his eyes.
Why would anyone in their right mind forgive someone like me? After everything I've done?
He's not sure of an answer, but he is sure of one thing: he's going to change. He's going to do better and try to make things right – with his brother, with his peers, and, most of all, with himself. Maybe someday, after all of this is over and he can take the time to properly heal, he can learn to forgive himself too.
He basks in the thought until, eventually, he hears his brother calling his name.