author: caroandlyn

notes: yukio and rin brotherly bonding, another rin-goes-missing-and-is-found-ten-years-later-oh-noes-how-much-has-he-changed fic.

warnings: ooc-ness, angsty, character death?, suicide. t mainly for the suicide part.

disclaimer: i do not own ao no exorcist/blue exorcist. if i did, i would make everyone so ooc that even mephisto gets mindf*cked.

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Two words, a single phrase muttered in the heat of the moment, ruin Okumura Yukio's life forever:

"Just die."

He is angry: angry at the death of his father, angry at the recklessness of his brother, but most of all, angry at himself. Angry that he hadn't able to do anything to stop his father's death, angry that all his efforts to protect Rin had crashed down just like that. Angry that he was useless.

He takes his anger out on his older brother because Rin is the perfect scapegoat, and he needs somebody to blame. If Rin hadn't been so stupid, Father would still be alive. If Rin wasn't so reckless, the Vatican wouldn't be after him. If Rin didn't fight so much, the Church would still be standing. If Rin had never been born, then none of us would be in this mess in the first place-

Rin doesn't do anything for a moment after the accursed words spill out of Yukio's mouth, just seems to accept the sharp blades of hatred and rage and fury directed toward him with a resigned expression. He stands there in the shadows, smiling that stupid sad smile, before looking at Yukio with dull blue eyes that have seen infinity and beyond.

"Fine."

There is a silent second as Yukio registers what his elder brother says, and then just watches, wide-eyed, horror-struck, as Rin takes out the demon blade that acts as his lifeline- Kurikara, it is called; the sword that brought down the Impure King, how truly fitting- and with a deadly grace, strangely terrible and beautiful at the same time, plunges it into deep his heart.

"No!" Yukio screams, tossing away his gun and lunging toward his brother's body desperately, futilely. He fumbles with the sword, pulling it out of Rin's body where it lands on the ground with a large clatter, blood-stained, macabre motifs of crimson splatters dotting the ground. "No! I didn't mean that! No!"

Rin does not move, does not suddenly open his eyes and ask if it was a good joke- were you scared, Yukio? I got you good, didn't I? He just lays there, still, unmoving, stone cold dead, the faintest trace of that horrible sad smile still on his lips, perhaps mocking the world, perhaps mocking himself.

(Yukio does not know whether to laugh or cry.)

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.|Stone|.

.|Cold|.

.|Dead|.

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Coffee, Yukio thinks, is surely the true gift of God.

He's tired, but this is normal. Paperwork pursues him like the plague, and the few assistants that the True Cross Order can afford to spare for him are all useless incompetents, failures that will never become true Exorcists. Nothing but a burden in the midst of a battle. They don't take their job seriously, either, always distracted with something or whatnot, but he must properly utilize the few materials he has been given. He is reminded of what had happened the last time he took something for granted.

He frequents a small cafe a few blocks away from the Academy every time he has a few precious moments to spare, drinking away his troubles. The cook always leaves the expressos to simmer to long, resulting in a bitter black drink that burns his throat when he swallows, but he finds that he prefers it that way. The acrid taste clears his thoughts off of... other things.

Yukio yawns, taking a quick glance at his watch. He has a half an hour left before his next meeting with the Grigori, in which he can use the time to do more paperwork, or go outside for some fresh air. The latter option sounds by far more appealing, and giving a small nod toward the cafe hostess as he pays the bill, he steps out into the spring sunshine. Fresh air it is, then.

He barely manages three steps outside before he walks into someone.

"Woah! Watch out!"

His glasses fall to the ground at the unexpected impact, and eyeing the other individual's blurred face, Yukio's first thought is that the person is thin. Unhealthily thin, he decides, rubbing his sore nose, trying to ease the insistent throbbing. He had walked straight into the person's bony shoulders, and his face had taken the brunt of bone without any fat or muscle to shield him.

Yukio glances at the other person, eyeing them speculatively. It is a man, he concludes, after a moment of observation. About his age, maybe older. The man is unusually lanky, towering easily a head over Yukio, who is considered tall by normal Japanese standards. A foreigner, perhaps?

"Hey, are you alright? Here."

Something is shoved into his hands, and it takes Yukio a moment to realize that it is his glasses. He puts them on hurriedly, blinking rapidly as his vision to adjusts. "Thank you," he says gratefully, giving a genial smile at his unexpected savior. "I'm sorry if I came out as rude, I was just a bit dazed by the collision. I'm Okumura Yukio. Who are you?"

The stranger- obviously of Japanese descent, with no hint of foreign blood- gives a relieved smile back, and for a second Yukio is reminded of someone long gone, long dead. "Ah, it's okay. I was worried that you'd been injured by the impact- I'm not really the most careful person there is out there, sorry about that. I'm Sakamoto Rin. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Yukio stills, not daring to breathe. Rin. Rin. The name echoes in his ears tauntingly, mockingly. This stranger- Sakamoto-san- is so similar to his Rin that the coincidences seem uncanny, almost too similar. What if... what if- he shakes his head, ridding it of doubtful thoughts. Rin is dead. The man in front of him is a stranger, somebody he has never met before in his life. No matter how much he resembles what Rin might have looked like when he grew older, he is human, not a demon. He is not the Rin Yukio knows.

"Okumura-san? Are you sure you're alright? Do you have a concussion?"

Yukio gives a wan smile, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Sakamoto-san, it's not your fault. It's just that... well, I had a twin brother whose name was Rin, too. Like yours. He was... he was really similar to you, actually. Appearance-wise and personality-wise both... but he killed himself ten years ago, right in front of my eyes. I never quite got over his death, especially since I was a pretty big contributing factor to it."

"Oh," Sakamoto-san says blandly, as if at loss to what to say. "I'm very sorry about your loss, Okumura-san."

"It was ten years ago, there was nothing you could do about," Yukio replies, sighing. "Our father died a few weeks prior to my brother's death, and I was foolish, blaming Rin for his death. He caved into the pressure, and killed himself with the very same sword that my father gave to him before he died. It was irony in its very best, I suppose." He laughs sardonically, and then wonders why he is pouring out his life story to a complete stranger.

Apparently, Sakamoto-san feels it too. "If you're going to tell me your entire autobiography, you can use the way all true Japanese men do," he says, smiling gently. "Come over to my house and have some tea. My wife would be glad to meet you."

Yukio cannot think of a way to refuse without being rude. "I would be glad to," he finally says, making his decision. "Thank you very much, Sakamoto-san."

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Sakamoto-san's house is located in one of the better parts of the neighborhood, a cozy, rather large single family home resting on top of a small grassy hill and a well-kept garden. It is painted a soft shade of white, the color of snow and clouds with a hint of the artificial starkness that signifies a man-made object, and a crudely fastened bamboo fence encloses the property, giving it a rather homely outlook.

Sakamoto-san unlocks the door quietly, stepping inside the house with almost no sound. Yukio follows him inside, stepping into the geta sandals that he has been offered, before his host knocks on the walls opposite the front door precisely three times. There is a moment of silence before a collective call of "Otou-san!" fills the air, and the sound of small footsteps rebound around the house.

Three children- two girls and a boy- dash into the front room, ages varied. The first to speak is the older girl, perhaps six or seven, with no resemblance to Sakamoto-san whatsoever, squeals loudly. "You're back! You're back! I missed you so much when you were gone where were you I was lonely because meanie Rinsuke wouldn't play with me and then Yuki was with Okaa-san doing baby stuff in the kitchen and it was boring."

"Woah, woah there, girl," Sakamoto-san says, laughing. "I can't hear what you're saying, Kiyoko. You're talking too fast- yes, Yuki?"

For it is the other girl, looking to be the youngest of the trio, tugging nervously at her Sakamoto-san's pant legs. She is the only one of the trio who has inherited her father's coloring, navy-blue hair and wide blue eyes shyly gazing upwards. "Otou-san. Yuki missed you."

"And I missed you too," says Sakamoto-san, smiling. "How about you, Rinsuke? Got anything to tell your dear Otou-san?"

The oldest of the three, as well as the only son, crosses his arms together defiantly. "Who's that?" he asks snidely, furious brown eyes giving a cursory glance toward Yukio, and Yukio is suddenly reminded of a younger Rin, punk-attitude and unrelenting spirit included, and wonders if this is Karma. "He looks weird. I don't like him. Make him go away."

"Rinsuke!" says a woman entering the room, her voice shocked. "What are you saying to your father's guest?" And then, to Sakamoto-san, "You should have told me that you were bringing a guest over, dear. I would have served more than just the usual tea and wagashi..."

Sakamoto-san's wife is a gentle-looking woman with soft brown eyes and a round eyes, umber hair pulled into a tight ponytail. It is clear that Sakamoto-san's older two children inherit their appearance from her, the same elongated face, delicate nose, rounded chin. "My name is Sakamoto Yuu," she says, holding her stubborn son in a vicegrip. "But please, do call me Yuu. It is a pleasure to meet you... ah..."

"Okumura Yukio," Yukio says, eyes sharp and calculating behind his glasses. "It am honored to meet you as well."

Yuu-san blinks. "Okumura... Rin, is that not your old surname?" she asks, curiosity in her expression. "Is he a relative of yours?"

"Yes," Sakamoto-san says. "He is my younger brother."

Three things happen at once. Rinsuke wriggles himself out of his mother's hold, taking advantage of her distracted state to run into the safety of his father's arms. Yuki, unfamiliar with the tense atmosphere, bursts into loud sobbing. And Yukio, the formidable genius Exorcist and brother-slayer, is reduced to a desperate man, not daring to breathe, move, for fear that this dream will end and he will wake up alone again.

"Yuu," Sakamoto-san- no, Rin, says, smiling, gently prying Rinsuke from his arms and pushing him toward his mother's direction. "I haven't seen Yukio-kun in over ten years, ever since our Otou-san died. You wouldn't mind if we have a man-to-man reunion, would you?"

Yuu-san catches the drift. "Of course," she says, and leaves the room with her children in tow.

"R-Rin? Is that you? You're human?" Yukio asks, looking at his brother with widened eyes. At Rin's nod, he continues, "Nii-san, how could you! I honest-to-God thought you were dead- how could you? Why did you leave me?"

Rin gives a wan smile, and Yukio takes a moment to realize how much he has matured over the years. His high cheekbones are accentuated by his sudden weight loss, giving him a strange sort of ethereal appearance. The punk attitude that had so defined him in the past is gone, replaced by the viewpoint of a much older man, someone far beyond his years. His Rin, Yukio's Rin, is gone.

"I just wanted you to be happy," Rin says, staring at the wall and not quite meeting Yukio's eyes. "When you told me to die, you sounded like you actually meant it. So I... you know, killed myself so that you would be happy. It wasn't like you actually needed me. I was the person who killed your father, who destroyed your home. It didn't help that the Vatican were after my head, as with the Grigori. I didn't want to be a burden, especially an unwanted burden.

"When I stabbed myself that night, it was simply coincidence that I tried to kill myself with Kurikara. My demon side was too strong, and it destroyed itself trying to save my life. When I woke up, I was in the hospital. I guess somebody found my half-dead body and dragged me off to the hospital, thinking I was just some lost boy that had gotten beaten up in a fight. I stayed there until I got better, a few months later, and went back to the ruins of the church.

"There was a girl I helped a few days before Otou-san died, Sakamoto Yui. When her family found out that my home had burned down, my guardian dead, they... took me in, I suppose. Gave me job opportunities, a place to sleep during the night, free food. Later on, I married Yuu, who is Yui-chan's older sister. I got a respectable job as a business accountant, and now... you see what my life is, don't you, Yukio?"

"You can still be an Exorcist!" Yukio says, his tone almost pleading. "Rin, come back. You're not a demon anymore, there's not going to be any more prejudice against you. You can save more lives."

Rin snorts, almost amused. "I told you, I'm completely human now," he says. "I've got a beautiful wife, three kids, a good lifestyle. I won't- I can't give that up for the world. I'm not your... nii-san anymore, Yukio. I'm a stranger now."

"Oh," Yukio says, staring at his older brother. This is the closest he has ever been to Rin for ten years, yet it feels like the farthest. "I... I see, then. Goodbye, Sakamoto-san."

"And you too, Okumura-san," Rin says, a pleasant smile on his face. "I wish you a good day."

Yukio gets the message. He will never come back to the house, nor see his brother ever again. This is their last goodbye.

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"You are late to our meeting, Okumura," says Balthasar quietly. "This is rather strange. Did anything happen beforehand?"

"No," Yukio says, a small smile on his face. "Nothing at all."

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