[ he takes the treatment he gets with the proverbial grain of salt – though really, it just further proves that it is his brother standing in front of him, and not a poor humanoid imitation. those hands – paws? – feel strange as they touch and pull and squish, and the fur tickles just the slightest bit when it brushes against his skin, but he still doesn't push rin away.

he's really real. and he's convinced that his brother is very much the same, even though there are unending questions to which he's sure he'll find no immediate answers swimming around in the forefront of his mind, all fighting for attention at once.

and when the other wraps his arms around him, buries his face against his shoulder, yukio can only respond in kind, allowing himself to slump just slightly against rin's frame, chin resting on his shoulder as a small little smile sees fit to curve about the line of his mouth.

answers can wait.

his gaze remains as calm as he can make it, though his teal eyes widen just the faintest bit when that barrage of questions comes. he wants to be able to give the sort of answers rin wants – because with the way those eyes are trained on him, hopeful, desperate, he wants to hear anything but the truth that will soon come out of his mouth – and it hurts to have to duck his head, shake it slowly. ]

I wish I could tell you that. [ he really, really does. you have no idea how much he does. ] I woke up in a hospital soaked to the bone, covered scrapes and scratches, and … [ he pauses, finally lifting his head again. ] With absolutely no memory of how I'd gotten here.