summary: He loves me, he loves me not. It's not that easy to tell the difference. Yukio/Rin
disclaimer: I still don't own AnE.
note: unedited. will change the title when my brain hurts less.

Daisies

He loves me.

"Here."

A plate of yellow-ish mush clattered loudly as it fell onto the dining table, right in front of an eight-year-old Yukio. He poked at the odd lumps with his fork.

"What is this?" Yukio inquired with fascinated eyes. "Its texture seems similar to rubber, and its exterior is flexible like polyester. It's hard like a rock, but behaves in a jelly-like manner. A watery substance seeps out from the cracked surface. Brown chips seem to be imbedded in the surface layer. What material can produce such complex and varied characteristics-"

"It's fried eggs."

Yukio's expression transformed from fascinated, to confused, to understanding, to horror, to denial, then to acceptance, all in three seconds time. He glanced back up to the proud and expectant grin on his twin's face and summoned his courage. He took a small bite and forced himself to swallow, trying not to think about the "egg" traveling down his throat. He could swear he heard a 'thunk' as it landed in his stomach.

"Well? How is it? Not bad, right? It's my first time making it, too!" The boy boasted, though his eyes looked a little tight at the edges, as if he was worried about Yukio's reaction to the taste of his first dish.

Yukio pasted a smile on his face and attempted to smile in what he hoped to be an encouraging manner. "It's the best thing I've ever tasted."

He loves me not.

"I know what you are," he uttered, pale eyes darkening into storm clouds as his brother tried to defend himself. "It's your fault he's dead." Yukio's words flew out his mouth with sharp, unerring accuracy to strike the boy like lightning bolts. He physically lurched under the weight of Yukio's wrath, but did not turn to meet his eyes.

"I... I..." he faltered, stumbling for words, face screwed in intense thought. He finally settled for, "I didn't know."

That only seemed to anger Yukio even more. His cheeks flushed pink, and he seemed ready to throw both the closed and open umbrella in his hands at his brother. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Crouching down beside his brother, he placed the closed umbrella next to the boy. He straightened up and gave a deep, respectful bow at the tombstone. "I will not argue with you while we're at father's grave," he said coldly. "I will come visit some other time."

'When you're not here,' was unspoken, but the kneeling boy heard it clearly. Footsteps echoed loudly in the empty graveyard as Yukio walked away from his last family tie.

The umbrella left by Yukio was ignored as the rain continued to fall.

He loves me.

"What have I said about following me on a mission where you're not needed?" Yukio crossed his arms and looked at his brother impatiently.

"...Not to follow you on a mission where I'm not needed," he mumbled.

Yukio eyed him for several moments, then seemed to deflate as he let out a suffering sigh. "The rules were created and enforced for a reason, nii-san," he reminded his brother. "And now, because of your insubordination, a fellow exorcist sustained grave wounds and is in the hospital while his family prays for his life. What do you have to say for yourself?"

The boy in question shrunk in on himself, and murmured a contrite, "Sorry."

"Okumura-san!" A man in an intricately-decorated, dark blue outfit approached Yukio with a stern expression. "I am Upper Second Class Exorcist Saburota Todo. I have come to investigate the circumstances behind Lower First Class Exorcist Yamada Taro's injuries. Someone has reported seeing a suspicious male not in Exorcist uniform entering the premises-"

"There was no unauthorized entry of the site, Saburota-san," Yukio cut in smoothly. "Regarding Yamada-san's injuries, I take full responsibility for his condition. I had underestimated the demon's abilities and failed to summon back-up before it was too late. The demon has been dealt with, and I accept any punishment in accordance with Yamada-san's health."

Saburota blinked. "Ah, well, you will be pleased to note that Yamada Taro has been released from surgery just two hours ago, and the doctors have pronounced him stable. He should be fine after a month of recovery time. The higher levels have decided not to penalize anyone this time, but this event will reflect badly in your permanent record."

"Duly noted. Thank you, Saburota-san," Yukio said calmly.

The man stared at the other Okumura fidgeting behind Yukio dubiously before leaving to hand in his report.

Yukio ignored his brother's incredulous gaze and sighed with a small smile on his lips. "Come on, nii-san. Let's go home."

He loves me not.

The door slammed shut loudly as Yukio entered the room, exam schedule in hand. "Are you ever going to study, nii-san?" He sighed at his brother lying on his bed, comic in hand, school bag lying untouched by the desk.

"I'll do it later," the boy replied without taking his eyes off the comic before him.

"You do know that exams start in three days, right?"

"Whatever," the boy waved flippantly at Yukio. "I'll get you to help me tomorrow. It'll be fine."

Yukio stalked over to the bed and snatched the comic out of the boy's hands. His glare halted any protests the boy was about to make, and made him feel like a little kid in trouble again. "I'm not your convenient little brother that will always be there to clean up your mess. Don't expect me to help you every time you screw up."

Somehow, he got the impression that Yukio isn't just talking about his studying habits.

He loves me.

Yukio knew that there was a reason he agreed to accept his brother as an exorcist.

"My sword is way better than your stupid lines and memorizing shit."

This wasn't it.

The tick on Bon's forehead grew even bigger as he struggled not to pummel the boy in front of their instructor who was, incidentally, said boy's brother. He muttered arias frantically under his breath, as if spitting them out like curses would kill the demon-boy before him.

"I didn't know your chicken head could hold so many words!" The boy had a wide grin on his face, sitting backwards in his chair to taunt the hot-headed Bon. He swore that he could hear paper crinkling in Bon's fist as he took deep, calming breaths.

"Okumura-kun!" Yukio barked sharply. "Will you please quiet down, turn around to sit properly in your chair, and actually listen to the lesson for once?"

Around the classroom, several of their classmates snickered as the boy looked properly chastised. "Sorry, Okumura-sensei."

"Good," Yukio grinned, "because obviously, guns are much better than swords and scripts."

He loves me not...

Fingers still as the last petal remains unpicked, and iridescent blue orbs disappear behind a shroud of inky blue. A sardonic chuckle escapes his lips. He lets himself fall back onto the soft grass, white scattered around his feet. He wishes that the single-petaled daisy would make a sound as it falls to the ground, wishes that it would break the suffocating silence that wraps around his throat, wishes that he had the strength to fight the tears, wishes that he wouldn't feel this way about his own brother.

The night was quiet as his vision blurs, and Rin tries vainly to ignore the ache in his chest.

the end

a/n: this is the reason I haven't been posting lately. (also because of my lack of inspiration. thanks, muse.)

secret garden, anyone?
that scene was so... YEAH, FLOWER. MAGICALLY GROW AN EXTRA PETAL.
she swears at me, she doesn't swear at me. (gawddamnitjoowon)