Yukio was droning on about cram school as we ate our dinner. Something about changes to class structure next year and how none of the teachers were happy about it. I hummed along accordingly as I toyed with my spoon. I was thankful I'd chosen soup as our main dish, it was a lot easier to throw up when there was more liquid than solid. Noodles weren't fun, though, as I recalled the last time I'd thrown them up. I'd somehow lodged a noodle in my sinus and the burning sensation afterward made my nose itch even now. My mouth twitched downward as I recalled the disgust I'd felt when I had to literally blow the pasta out of my nose.

"Nii-san, are you even listening to me?" I jolted and flashed my eyes up to meet my twins. He gave me a curious look and I felt my cheeks tingle with shame. He'd been in the middle of eating some sushi but my reaction made him pause. He sighed and put down his chopsticks. "What's on your mind?" I shrugged in indifference, but inwardly I frantically tried to find a reasoning for my behavior. Yukio clicked his tongue a few times before reaching out and tapping the table to get my full attention. "Hey, stop brushing me off like this. I'm here to help, remember? What's wrong?"

I chewed my lip, flickering through my mind for anything that I could use to placate him. There was no way in hell I could let him in on the fact that I'd been vomiting as much as I have. With a sigh, I resigned myself to a simple question. "That mission," I started, holding a bit of apprehension in my tone. "Where I, you know... and everyone-"

"Yeah, I know, what about it?" Yukio asked warmly and I felt a bit guilty playing with him like this, but I had no other choice.

"You said the demons were harmless."

He sighed and leaned back in his seat. "Yeah, mostly harmless. Due to their subtype, they don't have much for physical capabilities, but if provoked enough, they can turn violent." He closed his eyes briefly before leveling with me once again. "I'm sorry. I didn't factor in that side of things because the reality of it happening was slim due to the group we had. But that's where I failed as you're superior. You got hurt because of my ineptitude."

The guilt that had been gnawing at me became fully fledged and I started to backtrack. "No, no. It's not that! I don't blame you for anything. Hell, even Shura wasn't prepared for what happened." My fingers began fidgeting with my shirt hem and I tried to find an excuse to cover my ass. "What I was trying to get at... you said they were harmless. That they would speak our insecurities and stuff..."

The room was silent as I trailed off and I drew in a breath before looking at my only sibling. He had a perplexed expression, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared me down. "Yes... they use psychological tactics to weaken their targets..."

I grunted and pushed myself up straighter, "but they just speak shit to you, right?"

"...correct."

He blinked several times as he tried to uncover exactly what I was conveying. However, I knew I wasn't giving him much to go off of. I'd dug my own grave, though, and I needed to relive the memory due to my mistake. "Back then, when they dug their claws into me. It hurt, a lot." I scoffed, realizing that the physical pain had been nowhere near the turmoil I'd experienced mentally that night. "But when they made contact with me, I could... see things, too."

"What?" He quipped abruptly, his palms laying flat on the table as he leaned forward. "That's not possible, that shouldn't be possible." He mused over my words and pursed his lips. "They're lower level, so while they have the ability to sense weaknesses, they don't have the power to portray them visually, especially inside someone's head. That'd be evidence of something much stronger than their current classification." The gears continued to turn behind his eyes, and I saw a flicker of the brother I knew so well. He was always aching for new information, new discoveries. With my statement, I was possibly changing something that'd been considered solid facts for the last how long. After a few seconds his eyes met mine once more, a glimmer inside his irises. "What did you see, what kind of vision was it? Was it clear like a memory or more like hazy experience?"

I felt the urge to laugh at his vigor, but was suddenly choked by the images I'd seen. My mouth opened, but no sound fell forward. Blood, there was so much blood. It came from his mouth, his nose, his ears. Dad cried blood like tears, and I could vividly see as it dripped down his face to his chin, where it intersected and continued to flow down his neck. Images flowed like a motion-picture film. Bloody fingers as they firmly grasped an exorcists pin before driving the shiv into Dad's chest.

I jolted, my fingers gripped the edge of the table as I shoved myself away. My chair scraped against the hardwood and the dinnerware rattled with the motion. I was left staring wide-eyed at my soup bowl and my breath ricocheted off the walls in the now silent room. I sputtered to take a deep breath and take in my surroundings. It was just a memory. I was in the dorm. It was over.

Warmth spread over the top of my hands and I blinked a few times before gazing upward. Yukio had stood from his seat and was now leaning over the table. I pried my gaze away from his worried expression down to where his hands were placed over mine. "It was Dad. The visions," I whispered.

He squeezed my hands before letting go. "It's okay," he said softly before I heard him settle back into his seat. "Do you want to talk about it?" I closed my eyes and shook my head. It was hard enough thinking about it, there was no way I could put my thoughts into words. "Okay, I'm here if you ever do."

With that, he dropped the subject. Just as quickly as we'd started the conversation, it flowed freely back into his experience with the cram school. I knew it unsettled him how viscerally I'd reacted to his prompt, and I knew he was still itching to know exactly what transpired that night. However, it was obvious he chose my comfort over said knowledge. For that, I was grateful, but I was still left feeling hollow.

I sighed as he continued to speak, grabbing my chopsticks and taking a bite of sushi.

.oOo.

We'd finished dinner without another incident. Both of us starting on some assignments. My stomach gurgled every once in a while and I found myself unable to focus. It was only when Yukio stated he'd start a load of laundry that I found a moment of reprieve. I waited patiently until I couldn't hear him on the staircase before getting out of bed. Tiptoeing past my sleeping familiar, I made it to the bathroom and closed the door behind me. I let out a small sigh of relief before treading over to the toilet. Like Pavlov's dog, I started salivating. The thought of vomiting immediately sending my body into preparation mode. I pulled open the toilet seat and got down to my knees. The familiar turning sensation erupting in my abdomen. I hadn't even started, yet my body was reacting accordingly.

I brought my right hand up to my mouth before pushing two fingers past my tongue. I gagged and withdrew the digits, my fang scraping my knuckles in the process. Taking a deep breath, I repeated the process. It was disgusting just how wet the inside of your mouth was. And the sounds the erupted when you wiggled your fingers for too long were just as foul. Doing just that, I moved my fingers, carefully avoiding scratching my throat with my nails. I coughed past my hand and squeezed my eyes shut, feeling a hot flash take over me. A godforsaken sound pierced the air and I threw myself over the toilet bowl. An amalgamation of my dinner rushed forward and stomach acid burned my esophagus. The sounds of my stomach contents collided with the water and I heaved. A sour taste was left in my mouth and I could smell my own bile. I gagged once more and another rush of vomit exploded from my lips.

I sputtered for breath, my fingers gripping the dirty porcelain. I thought of just how much bacteria was inches away from my face. I'd touched it, and I envisioned what would happen if I used the same hand to purge again. My thoughts succeeded and I hurled once more. "Nii-san!" Suddenly, a hand clasped my shoulder and I choked in surprise. Yukio moved closer and pulled me away from the toilet. Anxiety gripped my heart as I panted. There was shuffling before I was presented with a hand towel. I gingerly took it and wiped my mouth. Cool fingers touched my chin and pulled my face upward. I averted my gaze, ashamed to meet his eyes. "Oh, Rin, are you okay?" I remained still, unsure how I should proceed with the situation.

My twin crouched down and brushed my bangs from my face. My cheeks were heated and I rubbed my hand against my teary eyes. Yukio assessed my features before grabbing my hand and beginning to pull me to my feet. "The sushi must not have sat right. Did the nausea come on suddenly or did it build up to it?" I swallowed audibly and answered that it was slow building. He hummed and walked us out to the bedroom. Kuro seemed to have awoken with the commotion and he stretched before walking over to the bed. He questioned my sickness as well and I sighed.

"Sorry to worry you," I mumbled before climbing on top of the mattress. I pulled my textbook onto my lap, preparing to get back into my homework. However, Yukio had other plans, his hand moving to cover the page I'd been reading. I glanced up at him through my bangs and saw the mixed emotions that etched into his expression.

"Enough of that," he whispered. "Please, worry me if it's a situation that needs worrying about." He moved his hand off of my textbook, his palm resting against the back of my neck before he pulled me into an embrace. My eyes widened in surprise, but I allowed my arms to react instinctively, wrapping around his torso. "You're my brother, and after everything that has happened, I want to know everything. Nothing you have to say is worth apologizing for."

I swallowed my emotions and closed my eyes, relenting to simply burying my face into his shoulder as he continued to voice his support in my recovery. If only he knew just how far from the truth he was. He was in the shadows, only seeing the truth of instability for a brief moment before I'd shut him out once again. He be broken if he found out just how fabricated I'd become. But I'd protect that fallacious belief until it was pried from my grasp while I kicked and screamed. I'd already caused him enough grief by failing to safeguard my self harm, it'd be over my dead body that he found out about my purging.