If only Rin had noticed earlier, perhaps he could've done something to prevent what happened on the day it rained. Older brothers were meant to look out for their younger brother- that was a norm that the both of them never seemed to follow. Sure, he protected Yukio from numerous bullies from when they were younger, but it had only been a short amount of time before Yukio was able to handle them himself.

He had relished those times when his weak, cowardly younger brother needed his help; after all, the old man had encouraged them to stand up for what they thought was right (although he discouraged Rin's methods of carrying out justice).

Perhaps it was because Yukio would always give him a watery thanks and big, toothy smile that seemed to light up the whole world whenever he came to the rescue.

After Yukio had left for and stayed at the Academy, his little brother no longer expressed his emotions as he did before: openly, shyly, and freely. It was as if he had tucked them away somewhere, in a place Rin didn't know about. Yukio had grown out of his younger self and didn't need him to look out for him anymore.

In fact, it was always Yukio who scolded Rin about his sloppy posture and disheveled appearance; it was always Yukio who lectured on about his unruly behavior and how he should be respectful to his peers (but that one kid back then was really asking for it). On his fifteenth birthday, it was Yukio that showed up at the doorway of his dorm, a frosted chocolate cake in hand.

Even though his brother ignored him during class and didn't treat him as nicely as he did before, he still remembered that Rin absolutely adored chocolate cake.

It had been quiet in the halls during that time of the day, since his classmates usually went outside for fresh air after a grueling day of long lectures and tedious classwork. Rin had planned on buying himself a small cupcake from the Academy's kitchens (it was one of the slightly more affordable foods there) and spending the rest of the day alone.

After all, nobody wanted to celebrate the day the son of the devil was born.

As the minutes dragged on, the silence was suddenly broken by the sound of a door swinging open. Rin had looked up quickly, feeling hopeful that someone had come to congratulate him. Typically, his expectations would be crushed, and he would move on to stare aimlessly at the ceiling, heart heavy with disappointment.

But that time, his hopes had been answered.

Yukio hung around as he watched Rin scarf down the cake, as though if he hadn't eaten lunch three hours ago (which, to Yukio, shouldn't make any person hungry to that degree). Knowing that his brother was a messy eater, he had prepared tissues beforehand to deal with any miscellaneous crumbs that would tumble out from his brother's lips. There was hasty mutters of thanks and sheepish grins as the afternoon flew by. They were both happily unaware of the passing time until the sun began to slip back behind the distant hills.

When he thought back, those memories were the sweetest as could be. Almost like hot chocolate, lazy and warm- they were simply idyllic, and almost like a hazy dream.

When was it that Yukio started straying from his path?

His brother started acting more distant one day, as though if he was constantly occupied by something. Rin was hesitant to ask him, thinking that Yukio would find him to be too nosy. He usually wasn't one to think too much about what he said, but he had been a little conscious of his behavior towards others after he had offended a girl by making an innocent comment about her hair (what was wrong about having cotton candy hair anyway? how sweet would that be?).

Now, he regretted not asking when he had the chance. Rin should've shoved all his insecure thoughts away and blurted out his worries like he usually did, not caring about the consequences. Even if he didn't get the response he wanted, he would've been much closer to knowing what had made his little brother into that.

Every night, when he slept alone in his dorm- their dorm-, he could still feel the cold dread curling in his stomach on the day it rained. It chilled him to his very bones and made him question his very morals: why had he not grabbed the hand of his last, remaining family before they slipped away from him?

And when he reaches no other answer other than his cowardice, Rin finds himself blaming his father, for why had he born two sons, one a weakling and another a fool?

(Deep inside, he knows that he's the only one to blame.)

Some days, when he can't fall asleep, Rin finds himself wandering to the place where the fought. Laying down on the prickly grass, he'll stare up at the star-spattered sky, the cold darkness wrapping its arms gently around him. It was times like those when Rin wished that Yukio could be next to him, gazing up at the same stellar, breathtaking beauty that he often found himself getting lost in.

It was nights like those when he truly understood how small he was, and how bitter loneliness could be.