Chapter Text
Things had been awkward as of late in cram school. Rin’s friends...they didn’t trust him--not yet, anyway. They’d get there.
But for now he was stuck, idly hanging around the doorway, around Shiemi, sometimes his brother, trying desperately to fit into the niche he had left behind. The loneliness was steadily eroding his sanity, sure, but pretending not to notice them flinching away when he came near was worse.
Rin wasn’t an idiot. Sure, he hated studying with a passion, and yeah, maybe he skipped school more times than he could count, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew he had to prove himself to them, maybe more than once, that he wasn’t just satan’s spawn.
This didn’t stop him, however, from getting reckless.
He had slung his arm around Konekomaru in a friendly manner, just as he had many times before (he should’ve known better, he knew, so why-?). He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened next.
Okay, he did know. The real question was--why?
Konekomaru had panicked at the sudden intrusion of his personal space. He had shoved Rin with all the brute force of a flailing cat. Naturally, this had no effect on him--Rin was much stronger than that--but he had been surprised enough to let himself be moved back.
Now, hanging about in the cram school classroom was one of Rin’s favourite things to do. As of late he’d been hanging around the back, occasionally watching Shiemi mess around with pharmaceuticals and messing around with Bon. This section of the classroom in particular held many supplies for the average exorcist in training--leaflets of summoning paper, ammunition, spare rod parts, and several gallons of triple grade holy water.
The shelves were old and creaked in protest when so much as a breeze flew by. It was only natural that when Rin fell into it everything fell apart. Boxes, tubs, and jars fell down, landing solidly on the floor. The containers of holy water crashed, exploding on contact with the ground, thoroughly soaking a very confused half demon.
There was a brief moment of silence as the students registered just what the hell had happened. Rin felt the cool water, almost refreshing on the warm spring day, sinking into his clothes and skin.
Then it started to burn.
Rin’s skin started to steam. It felt as if he had been dunked into a vat of boiling oil, his skin forming red bumps that quickly spread into blisters, even becoming blackened on the tips of his fingers.
The shock of it was enough to make him start swearing profusely.
“Rin!” Shiemi called out in alarm, “Are you okay?”
He is definitely not okay. The holy water that had seeped into his hair fell into his eyes, blurring his vision.
“Konekomaru, what the hell?” Bon’s angry shout was muffled by the sizzling of Rin’s burning flesh.
“I’m--I didn’t mean--He scared me!”
It hurt to move, but he did. The water leaking into his shoes from the puddle below left him in distress. Red marred his vision--blood. He tries to cover his eyes, keep the water from getting in, but his hands are wet too.
“It’s not his fault,” Rin rasps. It hurts--fuck it hurts, but he wouldn’t let his friend take the blame. It was his own fault--he should’ve known not to get so close, not to startle them when they were so terrified of him already.
Bon grits his teeth. He both admired and despaired over Rin’s forgiving nature. “Fuck--hey, man. Are you okay?” His voice was a bit gentler this time around--he could smell the faint waft of burning flesh that was gradually getting stronger.
Rin tries to summon his flames, desperate to get rid of the water, but gets nothing for his trouble. They are doused the moment he tries, suffocating just as he is.
Shiemi--he knows because she smells like the earth, fresh soil and pollen--gently takes a hold of his sleeve, encouraging him to take steps away from the busted shelf and leaking water. He’s grateful, even though the tightening fabric tears open the angry blisters on his arm.
Rin regrets escaping Yukio’s ever present gaze to hide in the classroom. As suffocating as he was, his younger brother would know instantly what to do.
“God-damnit Konekomaru, get some towels or something!” Bon rounds on Shima as well, who quickly raises his hands in a peaceable gesture and runs out, already knowing what to do.
Rin’s burning skin is getting worse--he swipes at some of the remaining water that hasn’t sunk into his pores, and is horrified to feel several layers peel away, soaking his hand further in his own blood.
Shiemi’s gasp is drowned out by the growing panic that starts ringing in his ears. He was going to die at this rate. The water wasn’t going to rest until it had sunk into his very bones and doused his core.
Rin takes a stumbled step towards the door, then another. More until he was sprinting out, past the gates of the building and down the road until he reaches the dorm he and Yukio share, leaving his classmates behind.
Yukio isn’t at the house when he collapses in the entryway, nor is he there when Rin drags himself to the first floor bathing room, gasping wretchedly. Calling for his brother amounts to nothing.
He was alone.
Barely able to move and still burning, he felt like he was in hell. Dragging himself to the unused communal showers was a journey in itself. He had to take frequent breaks to get his own breathing under control.
At least he reaches the empty stalls, reaching up painfully to turn the dial. He could wash the holy water away, dry off and stem the blood flowing from his arm as he waited for Yukio to find him. The dial squeaks in protest as it turns, but he’s relieved when the water rains down.
Or at least, he was, until it started to burn him anew.
He howled as his skin blackened and charred, the smell making him gag. The water collecting around him became steam as it reached his already burning skin. The holy water that had remained in his clothes was purifying the rest.
Rin chokes on the smell of his own burning flesh. He can’t see anymore--the water falling into his eyes blinded him.
Moving isn’t an option. The nerves in his limbs are fried. Whatever that turned black can no longer be moved, leaving him stranded, drowning in agony.
He lays there, agonized, too weak to move. His gasps fading as consciousness slipped away.
There are footsteps. He can barely hear them, slowly robbed of his senses as his desperate gasps fade with his consciousness.
Silence, and the burning rain stops.
A hand takes a hold of the back of his shirt, dragging him out of the water to safety, leaving him soon after.
“Wai-” His raspy call is cut off when a strange, oil like substance is poured on him by the gallon full, spilling into his mouth. It tastes like an odd mix of ash and dirt. He’s covered from his head to his feet, stopping the burn, leaving only a throbbing pain behind.
The heat fades away, only to be replaced by a deep cold that sunk into his veins and left him shuddering, his agonized moans muffled into the floor.
“Strange,” A familiar voice hums, “I came to kill you, but you’re already doing it all by yourself.”
Amaimon, King of Earth, sat down next to his half-brother’s semi-curled form. He tilted his head in interest, considering what was in front of him. Rin was an absolute mess--covered in odd bumps and blisters, his skin in varying shades of red and black, some gone completely to reveal the shredded muscle beneath. His eyes were red, blood streaking down his face in a grotesque example of tears.
Rin doesn’t move; doesn’t dare to breathe. Amaimon wants to kill him--what better time to do it then now, while he was defenseless and so near to death already?
“Hey, don’t ignore me.” A long nail prodded Rin’s cheek insistently, threatening to break open a blister. When he received no reply, the sharp nail digs deeper, gouging into the ruined skin, leaving Rin gasping in pain. “That’s no fun.”
Rin vaguely wonders what he wants. Amaimon had gotten what he had wanted last time--Rin had lost control and fought him, had nearly killed his friends in the process, was nearly put down by the order…
Amaimon pouts. He had come with the expectation of a good fight. Rin had been fun to brawl with, and he hadn’t exactly lost. They still had to see who was the winner, after all.
But no, Rin was already looking like he’d been put through a grinder.
How terribly unfair.
“...Hey, why were you doing that, anyway?” That being the mess of blood and dead skin left behind to stain the shower stall. “There are better ways to get to Gehenna than that, you know.”
It was true--suicide was a one way ticket to Gehenna, your crimes against humanity being totaled to show your new position in the next life as a demon. Most humans wound up becoming Coal Tars, though Rin was an admittedly special case.
“‘Wasn’t...trying t-to,” Rin manages to get out, the shudders wracking his frame preventing him from saying more.
Amaimon tilts his head in the other direction. “You wanted to go to the other place? Sorry, but that’s off-limits to demons like us.”
Rin shakes his head minutely, but doesn’t bother trying to explain that it wasn’t suicide he was just dying because holy water is secretly evil and out to get him.
Rin wishes he had the energy to tell Amaimon to go fuck himself.
Cold hands prod at the worst of his wounds, making him whine in pain and struggle to put distance between them. He wished Yukio was there. Hell, he’d take Shura at this point. Anyone was better than Amaimon.
Said king paused at the noise. The hell kind of sound was that? He prods at Rin’s abused skin again, looking befuddled. It was oddly endearing. A strange feeling welled in his chest, one that was usually reserved for Mephisto.
Intrigued, Amaimon abruptly grips Rin’s throat in one hand and drags him up.
Startled, Rin’s gasp is silenced by the suffocating grip on his throat.
“So if it wasn’t you, then who was it?” Amaimon questions, peering into Rin’s unseeing eyes. He’d be lying if he wasn’t a little curious. “Was it an exorcist? Your brother, perhaps? Or...one of your classmates?”
Rin’s twitch was his only answer.
“Oh? They’re trying to kill you. Not surprising, humans really do hate demons.”
It was an accident! Rin wanted to scream. Konekomaru hadn’t meant it. He didn’t know the shelf would break, didn’t know the holy water would hurt him that badly.
Are you sure?
Rin freezes.
He knew that shelf would break easily. Everyone knew it. He shoved you on purpose.
Amaimon drags him closer.
They hate you. You’re a demon, of course they do. You knew that the moment they found out they would hate you.
Rin wants to cry. Hadn’t he proved himself to them, yet? Hadn’t he tried, over and over, to prove that he wasn’t bad, wasn’t evil like all the others said he was?
“What are you upset about?” Amaimon sneers, “You knew something like this would happen eventually. You’re surrounded by trigger-happy exorcists, so why are you crying?”
Rin lets out a little sob, taking a hold of Amaimon's shirt. He was torn between wanting to sock him in the jaw and wanting to hide himself in his frayed cloak, hands shaking.
When Amaimon releases him, curiosity abated, Rin uses him as a prop to hold himself up. Too weak to do anything else, his head drops onto Amaimon’s chest as he keens, his soft hiccups and sobs the only noise in the dark room.
The King of Earth is baffled. He was not well known for being kind--so why was the younger seeking comfort from him? Rin should be attacking him with all his might--whatever thats left of it, that is. He had threatened his well-being. But no, the younger had decided that staining his tie with salt-water was a better idea. He was wrinkling the king’s shirt in his fists.
How...promiscuous. Could Rin be...flirting? How utterly depraved. To be so close to another demon in such a frail, non-threatening manner….
Amaimon was a little intrigued. He wondered about the girl Rin had so desperately tried to save before. A little cautionary sniff said that no, Rin had no other scents on him. They hadn’t been together. Had Rin fallen for him instead? His display of power had been over the top, he remembers. Rin might've thought he was making a courtly display, and had been offended by the distinct lack of forewarning, hence the later fight. Oh dear.
He shakes himself. What was he thinking? He came to kill the halfling, not initiate a courtship. Besides, the idiot had no idea what he was doing--he still had his tail out, after all. Like a ruffian.
Rin finally collapses, unable to hold himself up even with unwilling assistance.
Unthinking, Amaimon tries to catch him, and simply ends up falling to the ground as well, Rin settled in his lap.
This was….hm. Rather nice, actually. Rins head was nestled on his shoulder, drooping from weariness. He was pleasantly warm, despite being thoroughly soaked.
“You’re really so...very sad, aren't you?” Amaimon sighs, resigned.
Rin tries to look at him, squinting painfully through his red tinged vision.
“Pathetic,” the king sighs fondly, using the pads of his fingers to pry tired eyes open. Rin doesn’t struggle when the other’s tongue traces the red sclera and damaged pupils, only weakly clawing at his shirt as he squirmed in his lap to fight down the strange feeling that accompanied it. Amaimon does the same to the other, and soon Rins vision is cleared--perhaps even a bit better than before. “You make me sad, little brother.”
Rin is quiet, trying to stop his muffled hiccups.
Amaimon lets him nuzzle into his cloak, absently watching as his skin slowly heals. The Devil’s Root potion had done its job; the holy water was tainted, and Rin was free to recover at his own pace.
“Humans are so cruel, don’t you think?” Amaimon buries his nose into Rin’s hair, enjoying the scent. The younger smelled like a bonfire, one that had been made with vast amounts of wet logs and lighter fluid. “Why won’t you join us in Gehenna? You’d be much happier there.” It was true; Rin was the high prince, after all. He'd inherit hell one day.
Rin shakes his head wearily. He’s not sure what caused the sudden turn in Amaimon’s attitude, but he wasn’t about to question it. He couldn’t escape the elder demon’s grip, but he’s safe in the notion that if Amaimon hadn’t killed him yet, he probably wouldn’t any time soon.
Amaimon lets out a little hum, dissatisfied. He should’ve known it wouldn't be that easy to coerce him. He sighs, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of Rin's head. Humans did that to comfort one another; he saw it on Mephisto's TV, though in their culture it was something more...romantic.
He wondered if Rin even knew.
Amaimon lets him fall asleep, absently stroking newly formed skin with the flats of his nails. Rin healed remarkably fast, even for a demon, and he marveled at his ability to bounce back so quickly from near fatal wounds.
He gives it some thought. He was sure that perhaps, given some time, he could grow to like Rin. Courtships took weeks, even months or longer depending on the complexity; perhaps he could….
He imagines Rin alongside him, blue eyes shining, enveloped in fire.
Amaimon gives a small huff of laughter. He would make Rin his bride if it killed him
“...must be here….you look over there….”
Pointed ears twitched. He had been found!
Amaimon regrets breaking through Mephistos barrier in a fit of pique a few hours ago. To be fair, the elder brother had locked him out, though on purpose or not had yet to be seen.
Mindful of the footsteps that were rapidly following the gory trail left behind by Rin not too long ago, Amaimon gathers Rin into his arms. He could take Rin with him to Gehenna, get father’s blessing, and be back by Halloween.
The door to the communal showers is violently thrown open by not just one, but two exorcists.
Amaimon eyes them curiously. This is not the search party who had been after him before.
“You…” Yukio grits his teeth and draws his gun, “Put him down!”
Rin doesn't even twitch, which the king of earth takes as a good sign.
“What am I doing?” he echoes, only vaguely aware of his own absurdity. “Why, molesting him, of course.”
Yukio stares at him, frozen in shock, and Amaimon is abruptly reminded of the fact that the word molesting has….a double-meaning, in this day and age.
Shura, who had been behind the other, abruptly ducks around, sword drawn, and runs at Amaimon with an enraged snarl.
He is forced against the window rather quickly. The room is only so big, so when Shura’s blade barely misses his shoulder he has no choice but to release Rin and run, avoiding speeding bullets and angry curses.
Yukio doesn’t stop firing at him until he’s well out of sight.