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Their dorm is so quiet without Yukio in it. Quiet and lonely. Something about the very air seems to have changed. Yukio has always been a rather small, quiet presence in their shared spaces, but that doesn’t make his absence any less poignant.
Rin is going to visit him today, he’s decided. He’s put it off for as long as possible, because he knows Yukio is in a bad way and Shura had said he wouldn’t want Rin seeing him like that. But it has been weeks since then, and Rin misses his brother, so he’s going.
He collects some of the books from Yukio’s shelves into a bag and sets off. The building they’re keeping Yukio in is daunting, and on the inside it is suffocatingly white. There’s art on the wall, and some of the floor tiles are different colors, but that’s all. It doesn’t look like the kind of place one goes to get better, especially not when the issues were in their mind.
Yukio is depressed, suicidal, how is this boring place supposed to help him? It makes Rin feel hopeless, and he’s been here for less than five minutes.
The nurse that greets him is cheerful, and leads him through a few doors to a large open room. Patients and nurses mill about the space. There are tables with a whole bunch of different crafts and activities on them, a TV with a game console hooked up to it that sends a pang of nostalgia through Rin’s heart, and many shelves full of books.
Rin ignores all of that, finding his brother almost instantly. Yukio is, unsurprisingly, tucked into a corner of the room, near a window, in a plush chair with a book in his lap. Rin beelines towards him. He wants to shout a greeting, but he has enough awareness to recognize that’s probably not appropriate right now.
“Hi, Yukio,” he says as he takes the seat across from him. Yukio glances up for a moment, his gaze dull, before looking back at his book. Rin thinks that he doesn’t look any better than when he’d last seen him. He doesn’t look worse either, but the sunken cheeks and eyes are still there, deep, dark bruises sitting beneath his eyes. He’s still pale. He’s gained weight, though, probably thanks to the little yellow tube taped to his cheekbone. “How’s it going?”
“Fine,” Yukio grumbles. He doesn’t look much like he wants to see Rin right now. If Rin didn’t know any better, he’d think Yukio was trying to hide his face.
“I brought you some books.” He pulls his bag into his lap. “No textbooks, though, Shura said I’m not allowed to.” Yukio does not perk up at the books, like Rin had expected him to. He looks at them for a moment, then away again.
“Thanks.” It sounds like it genuinely pains him to say. Rin doesn’t call him on it, nor does he take offence to it, because he knows that Yukio just doesn’t feel well and he’s lashing out. “You should go.” He stands. “It’s time for lunch.”
“They said I could stay during lunch,” Rin argues, standing with him.
“Yeah, well, I don’t eat lunch with the others, so.” He turns and starts off towards his room, assumedly, a very clear indication that Rin should leave. Of course, he doesn’t, continuing to follow Yukio.
“That’s fine,” Rin says. “We can just eat together.” Yukio’s face flushes as they reach his room, where a nurse is already waiting, fiddling with some sort of machine.
“Who’s this, Yukio?” she asks, cheerfully. Yukio glowers and sits in the chair beside her.
“My brother,” Yukio finally answers. “He was just leaving.”
“I was not,” Rin corrects, dragging over a chair and sitting. “It’s nice to meet you.” He shakes the nurse’s hand and sits down. She smiles pleasantly and continues her work.
“Ready Yukio?” He tilts his head back and nods, eyes closed, as the nurse pushes the plunger on a syringe of water into the tube. Yukio seems to swallow a gag, then she hooks up whatever the machine is to the tube on Yukio’s face. It whirs softly. Yukio gags again a moment after that, looking incredibly uncomfortable. “How’s it feel?”
“Fine,” Yukio murmurs.
“Good, good.” She pats him on the shoulder, which makes him scowl. “Is there anything I can get you?” She asks Rin. “Lunch? Anything?”
“Lunch would be great,” Rin replies. She nods and leaves. “What’s that do?” He already knows, he isn’t that stupid, but it’s too quiet in here and it’s making him nervous.
“It’s a feeding tube, Rin,” Yukio huffs. He sounds exhausted. Shura hadn’t mentioned that. He doesn’t entirely understand why Yukio would need one. He’s awake, and as far as Rin knows his stomach works just fine, so he could eat on his own. He thinks it would not be a good idea to ask.
He does remember, though, that when Yukio feels sick, or sad, or stressed, or anything else, really, he stops eating. Father Fujimoto had tried everything to break this habit, but nothing had ever worked. It seems someone has decided to do something about it. And it’s working, in some ways, but Rin can’t help but think it’s not sustainable. They aren’t getting Yukio to eat, they just aren’t letting him starve.
“Cool,” Rin says, for lack of a better response. Yukio says nothing. Shura had said there was no work talk of any kind allowed, but that’s all Rin’s really been doing, so he’s left with nothing else, it feels like.
The nurse brings him back a sandwich and a bottle of water, forces Yukio to drink a whole glass of water, then leaves again.
“Do you really want me to leave?” Rin asks, softly.
“Yes,” Yukio answers, without missing a beat. He’s not going to lie, that hurts. He places the books on a side table and lifts his bag over his shoulder. “Thank you for coming.” Rin turns. Yukio is staring at him, eyes sincere. “And thank you for the books.” He means it.
“You’re welcome!” Rin chirps. “Love you, Yukio, feel better!”
“I love you, too, Rin,” Yukio says. Rin positively beams as he makes his way out. Shura was probably right in saying Yukio didn’t want Rin to see him that way. It shouldn’t be much longer now ‘til he comes home. Rin can leave him alone until then.