Author's Note: I would have gotten this chapter up sooner, but I've been really busy lately because last week was my mom's birthday and my family had to get ready for her party. My sister and I even made a cake for her. However, because we forgot the baking soda we ended up baking brownies. Oh well, our hearts were in the right place and they tasted okay. I also just discovered a new anime that I've been preoccupied with lately (which still isn't a very good reason to neglect you guys). I'm here now though, and ready to present you all with the Last Chapter (bold and capital letters, because it's serious like that).

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for this plot and a little too much time on my hands.

Epilogue

When Yuki woke up the next morning, the first thing he saw was his brother. He was sleeping in a nearby chair with his neck hanging precariously to the side in what was probably a very uncomfortable position.

Now, this was not what Yuki was typically accustomed to seeing first thing in the morning (in fact, most days he was usually already dressed and halfway through a bowl of cereal by the time he was even aware of his surroundings). As such, it took him a few seconds for his memory to catch up with his environment before was able to slowly sit up and lean over to shake Ayame lightly.

"Wake up, Nii-san." Yuki called, trying to ignore the odd sense of déjà vu that came with the action. Had they done this before? Maybe, but Yuki got the distinct feeling that at the time, the roles had been reversed.

However, unlike his own typical wake up routine, all it took was the slightest touch for Ayame's eyes to immediately snap open as he bolted upright.

"Good morning, dear little brother!" he chirped brightly. "How are you feeling today?"

Yuki blinked slowly, a bit stunned. He had never seen anyone wake up so…chipper before. "I feel fine, I guess. A lot better than yesterday at least."

Ayame beamed. "That's great!" And then, just as Yuki had predicted, the man's hands went up to support his neck. "I on the other hand, have seen better days. I could have picked a better sleeping position. My neck is killing me."

"Why did you stay here then?" Yuki asked. "You could have just slept in your own bed."

"Why did I stay?" the snake repeated, seeming surprised at such a question. "Because you asked me to of course!"

Yuki opened his mouth, ready to protest that he would never have done such a thing, but then he closed it, eyes widening at a sudden spark of memory. He had, hadn't he?

Now that the shroud of lethargy was retreating, yesterday was becoming clearer. It hadn't been very eventful. Most of the day had been spent sleeping. There were the occasional bouts of consciousness in which his temperature was taken or food was attempted (with encouraging results. At the time, the rat's fever had definitely been going down, and while he had still felt slightly nauseous after a few bites of food, it hadn't come back up.) But these excursions were few and far in between.

And in all that time, Ayame had never left his side. Every time Yuki had opened his eyes, the snake had been there, either sketching, watching TV or sometimes merely watching over him. The only occasions he actually moved was when Yuki had needed something.

In the moment, it had been nice. He couldn't remember Ayame ever acting quite so…brotherly before, and Yuki had genuinely enjoyed the attention and feeling of security he had provided.

But eventually, all good things must come to an end, and now that the moment had passed and Yuki's head was finally free of fever, all he felt was embarrassment and shame at his own helplessness.

"Can I go home now?" The question made its way out of the boy's mouth almost involuntarily. Home, where Kyo picked stupid fights for the smallest reasons, and Shigure made perverted comments to Tohru, who somehow remained oblivious to it all. Home, back where everything made sense.

Yuki needed that consistency. It was so unlike here, where all the characters seemed to be acting off script. Including himself. His brother was not supposed to be caring and considerate. He wasn't supposed to make him feel safe and more secure than Yuki could ever remember. And Yuki was not supposed to like it.

Unaware of the inner workings of the young rat's mind, Ayame merely looked a bit startled at the sudden request. "Well yes, I suppose you can. But are you sure you don't want to stay a while longer? Mine will be back soon, and she should be able to handle the shop—"

"No." Yuki said quickly. "I have to go home." He didn't think his psyche could take being here any longer. He was already on the verge of falling apart.

Ayame smiled weakly, trying and succeeding (just barely) to keep the hurt he felt stabbing into his chest out of sight. Apparently, he was unnecessary once again. "All right. I'll go and get your clothes then. I had them cleaned for you. I hope you don't mind."

Yuki shook his head mutely, and as soon as his brother handed him his freshly laundered school uniform, he disappeared into the bathroom without a word.

Ayame had been foolish to hope that things between him and Yuki would be different. What had he expected? Years of bitterness and animosity all to be cured in a single night? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

With a small, self-loathing sigh, Ayame absentmindedly stroked he soft flannel that was Yuki's nightshirt. He had suggested earlier that the boy should at least take a quick shower before he took off, and for once Yuki had followed the advice. But not before depositing the handmade pyjamas, neatly folded outside the bathroom door.

Ayame had always firmly believed that clothes were the greatest form of expression. Whether it was a bright and flashy display or a simple, conservative ensemble, you could tell a great deal about a person depending on what they were wearing. You just had to know how to look.

It was for this reason Ayame truly loved his job. He liked the idea of contributing to how a person perceived themselves or others while adding his own distinctive flair. In his opinion, there was no greater reward in his work than making another feel good about themselves, and maybe even a little more secure in their own body.

But his philosophy worked both ways. Not many people realized this, but clothing revealed much about the designer as well.

Ayame had made many things for Yuki over the years. Every birthday, every Christmas, and often just when Ayame got the whim, another article of clothing was added to the collection. He probably had an entire wardrobe by now, right down to socks and underwear. But his brother had never seen a single garment. Because to Ayame, it wasn't as simple as giving him a shirt or a pair of pants. It meant baring his soul to the one person that mattered.

Ayame wasn't sure how he had mustered up the courage to show these pyjamas that rainy night that somehow seemed so long ago. He hadn't really thought about the implications at the time, just that Yuki was wet, he needed something to wear, and that they would look cute on him. It wasn't until he had held them out for the boy did he realize what he was doing and become anxious. Because right then, looking at Yuki's horror-struck expression, he had been so sure that Yuki was going to shoot him down once again. And he knew that there was only so much rejection a person could take.

So when the rat ended up reluctantly agreeing to wear Ayame's creation, he had been delighted. He had thought, perhaps foolishly, that there just might be hope for them after all. But maybe that had been just too much to expect from a silly pair of purple pjs.

So intent was Ayame on his own thoughts, he didn't even notice that the sound of running water had disappeared.

"Nii-san?"

Ayame started, resulting in him dropping the sleepwear in question on the floor. "Yes?" he asked, turning to his now freshly clothed little brother.

"I'll be going now." Yuki informed him. "Thank you for your hospitality these past few days."

There was no warmth in Yuki's expression of gratitude. Just politeness as sharp as ice. And in that moment, watching his brother turn away, Ayame knew with irrefutable certainty that if he allowed Yuki to walk out that door, nothing would ever change. The wall between them would forever remain, and nothing Ayame did would ever be able to heal that rift.

"Yuki…" he called out desperately. But his brother wouldn't stop, wouldn't look at him, and every step he took led them closer to being broken beyond repair. "I'm sorry."

The statement seemed so inadequate. He couldn't fix sixteen years of pain with two simple words. But at the same time, those words somehow contained everything. Sorry I hurt you. Sorry I ignored you when you needed me. Sorry that I left you alone. Sorry, sorry, sorry.

And it was enough to make Yuki freeze in his tracks, hearing all the man said and more importantly, all that he had not. It was the first time Ayame had ever apologized to him. It had always been implied, but somehow the words had never been spoken.

"I know." Yuki whispered, so quiet that it was barely audible. And a part of him did know and longed to accept that. But another part of him, the lonely, angry child locked deep inside his heart kept telling him that his brother only brought pain and disappointment. And Yuki was so tired of being disappointed. He couldn't reconcile the two pieces, so he ended up caught in between. Not condemning the man, but not forgiving him either.

"I hurt you, Yuki. I know that. I was an idiot that was too selfish to listen to your problems or be aware of your pain. Perhaps on some level, I still am. And I know that I can't possibly ask you to forgive me. I just want you to realize that I am sorry and that I love you. I love you so much."

Yuki blinked, unexpected tears blurring his vision. Tears of anger, frustration and aching sadness. He loved Ayame too. He always had in a way, but a part of him wished that it wasn't so. Hate was so much easier than love. Love was what made it impossible to hate his brother; love that had made his childhood rejection hurt so much that it affected him even now. It was love that tore him in two.

Maybe Ayame was selfish, but Yuki was a coward, always so afraid of being hurt. How did the man do it? How did he constantly leave himself bare and vulnerable to scathing words and condescension? Yuki had pushed him away so many times, and yet his brother kept walking towards him with his arms outstretched. Yuki knew he wasn't ready to reach back, knew that it would be a long time before he would be able to. But maybe, just maybe, he could muster up the courage to take a step in the right direction.

Slowly, he turned around and walked back towards his brother, looking up at him straight in the eye. "…Would you like to walk back to Shigure's with me?" Yuki asked, shyly.

Ayame smiled. "Yes, I would like that very much."

Eventually, as Ayame's shop became a blur in the distance, the two managed to strike up a tentative conversation that grew in strength as time went on. Yuki talked to Ayame about gardening and the student council, and the snake listened and occasionally jumped in with a comment or an story of his youth, often without warning. And instead of exhausting himself by getting angry or trying to interrupt, Yuki merely listened and waited patiently for him to finish speaking. And then he simply continued on with whatever he had been saying previously as if no interruption had ever existed.

It was a complicated, jerky form of communication, and probably would have been extremely hard to follow for an outside observer, but it had its own odd sort of rhythm, and it worked for them, which was really the only thing that mattered.

Ayame would have liked to think that incredible progress had been made the last few days regarding his and Yuki's relationship. But in reality, it was impossible to judge how far they had really gotten. Deep down, he knew that they had a long way to go before anyone could truly be healed. But right now, in this moment, it didn't matter.

All he knew was that, for the first time in the history of their relationship, when he put his arm around Yuki's shoulders, his brother didn't pull away.

I'm really satisfied with how this chapter turned out. It is so much better compared to my rough draft. It turned out really fluffy again, but I don't feel it was so much that it was out of character. This story went a lot farther then I originally thought it would. For example, at first Yuki's pyjamas were merely meant to be a funny plot device. Who knew there was so much symbolism attached?

I want to thank everyone that has reviewed or will review for this story in the future. You guys are my inspiration. Now, it's time for me to get back to my Sonic the Hedgehog story. It's been so long since I updated for that, my readers over there are probably ready to kill me. I hope everyone enjoyed my story as much as I enjoyed writing it for you!

P.S: If anyone was willing to draw a picture of Yuki in his rat pyjamas and send it to me, I would seriously love them forever. I would do it myself, except I can't draw :(