燐火

‘ we’re family. family never gets left behind. ’

‘ time for a haircut. ’

‘ i burned your birthday cake. ’

‘ don’t you raise your voice at me, young man. ’

‘ you can stay here. for as long as you need. ’

‘ your bath is ready. ’

‘ stop squirming and let me see that cut! ’

‘ they’re being assholes, mom! ’

‘ remember to scrub behind your ears. ’

‘ hand sanitizer! we’re out of hand sanitizer! ’

‘ we lost the keys. ’

‘ get out of my room. ’

‘ where are you off to, little dude? ’

‘ you’re so annoying! ’

‘ i don’t think so, young lady. ’

‘ who broke the toilet? ’

‘ you’re one of us now. ’

‘ mom! ’

‘ want to hold my hand? ’

‘ i smell cupcakes. ’

‘ please stop screaming. ’

‘ if you don’t turn off that light and go back to your room right now… ’

‘ pull up a chair. have some breakfast. ’

‘ shut up. i’m n-not s-s-scared. ’

‘ what happened to your eye? ’

‘ honey, they’re staring. ’

‘ hey, hey. i’m not going anywhere. ’

‘ you should be in bed. ’ 

‘ get over here right now! ’

‘ that’s gonna be a no, buddy. you have a temperature. ’

‘ what is it with kids and their gadgets? ’

‘ shut up. shut up. shut up! ’

‘ don’t be sad. you can come along next time. ’

‘ go to your room. ’

‘ dad! ’

‘ did you just sass me? ’

‘ you brighten up my life, honey. ’

‘ you’re my kid. ’

‘ they can’t watch this! it’s rated r! ’

‘ does someone need a hug? ’

‘ he called me lame, honey. ’

‘ we’re hip. we’re in the know. ’

‘ do you want to hear a story? ’

‘ i’ve been texting you for ten minutes! where were you? ’

‘ i don’t wanna hug him! ’

Shirou smiled a little. At least Rin wasn’t flat out refusing the idea. That was a start. “There is no way to get it wrong, really,” he said reassuringly. “And besides, that’s what I’m for. I’ll help.” Nobody was born with the knowledge, after all, and Shirou had many altar boys he taught throughout the years. This wasn’t any different, was it?”

The next concern was a little more troubling, but after a momentary frown in thought, the Reverend dismissed this as well. “I honestly doubt it. There’s no holy water or any holy objects involved. It’s just talking. I wouldn’t have suggested it if I thought it would hurt you,” he added, a flash of disapproval in his gaze, even as he mostly intended this to be reassuring.

“You don’t have to decide right now. The offer is there, so you can think about it as long as you want.” Honestly, it was probably better if Rin didn’t decide right now. Shirou made it sound like it wasn’t a big deal at all, and somewhere, that was true, but still to the Reverend and his faith, this was an undertaking not to be taken lightly. Giving Rin a smile, he reached for the notebook on the desk, picking it up to look over the names Rin had written, no longer wanting to ignore that part of the conversation.

“This seems mostly okay to me,” he said after a few moments, picking up a pencil and making a few small corrections. His smile widened as he gave the notebook back to Rin. “You’ve done well!”

“I-I know you wouldn’t have, it’s just... sometimes people forget I can’t do everything humans can. Sometimes I forget,” he said, sheepishly running a hand through his hair. He wasn’t used to his demon half limiting him, although it was becoming more common as he integrated into the human world. “Most of the time I’m focusing on what I can do.”

He was quiet for a few long moments, thinking about Father Fujimoto’s offer a little while longer. It was something he’d have to think long and hard about, and probably talk over with his mother as well. “Thank you,” he murmured. “Even just having it offered means a lot.”

“No, I understand,” Shiemi hastened to reply, hoping to reassure her friend. Perhaps she’d never felt this so intensely, after all, she’d never had a home she couldn’t return to ever again, but she did understand homesickness, and she was emphatic enough to imagine how intensely Rin must have felt about it.

She’d already started listing things in her mind that they could do together, if Rin didn’t want to leave; perhaps keeping busy might have kept his mind off of his sadness, or he could have even found enjoyment in tending to her garden with her. After all, planting was not something he often did at home, right? But then Rin asked something else, and Shiemi let her thoughts return to him, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“Mm, I think so,” she said softly, and she let go of his hands to instead wrap her arms around his neck and pull him into a hug. “Just give it time,” she whispered. “And… don’t run away from it. Let it hurt while it must, so that it may pass on naturally. That’s what my mom said when I missed my grandmother so terribly.” She still did, of course, and it hadn’t been all that long ago. But already she was starting to feel the truth of those words: thinking of her grandmother brought both happiness and pain, as she was no longer only thinking about never seeing her again, but also of all the times they had spent together in happiness.

After a few long moments, Shiemi pulled away slightly, though she didn’t let fully go until she felt Rin wanting to. She gave him a warm smile then, asking, “So… do you want to plant some seeds with me?”

Rin returned the hug, sniffling a little as he held onto her. “I miss it so much,” he repeated. Shiemi had told him to let it hurt, to not run away from the pain... and he’d never actually talked about his difficulty adjusting with anyone. He felt guilty talking about it with his family because he was the reason they’d left, and Father Fujimoto had enough on his plate already. “B-Being in the human world all the time is really hard.” He constantly felt out of place, no matter what he did. The feeling was even worse in Cram School, mostly because everyone knew what he was— and most people hated him for it.

He held on in silence for a few moments afterwards, until Shiemi pulled away to speak. “I-I’d like that,” he said with a soft smile. Planting seeds sounded nice. It was just familiar enough that he knew what to do, but not so familiar that it reminded him too much of the forest.

“I didn’t change my mind on anything.” Mikoto knew it was a little cruel of her to put it this way, as if she was testing him to see if he would figure it out, rather than being straightforward about it. Still, she found it amusing that it didn’t occur to him that she might have lied to begin with, and she never meant most of what she’d said to Shirou.

Well, maybe he would put two and two together. And if not, well. Mikoto hardly cared what people thought of her words. Rin already knew what Mikoto could and would do; it shouldn’t matter that her and her brother’s favourite pastime was pissing each other off.

She noticed the tears, but didn’t comment anything on them. She could understand the longing to be rid of a phobia, crippling as they could be – she’d already seen the effect his had on Rin. There was also the fact that her side was beginning to ache terribly, worse than she could remember; bad enough that it was deciding instead of her when to end the conversation. “Ugh… where’s my useless brother with some painkillers?”

It took Rin several long moments to reach the right conclusion. His first thought was that Mikoto meant she hadn’t changed her mind, which hurt... but also didn’t make much sense. The only other possible answer was that she’d never really meant the things she’d said to Father Fujimoto and Yukio in the first place.

He stared at Mikoto as if she’d just grown a second head. “Wh— Why would you say any of th-those things if you didn’t mean them?” She got into two arguments back to back for no reason! Rin had always thought enjoyment of unnecessary conflict was a trait only demons could possess, but apparently some humans felt the same... Rin resolved to just let Yukio believe she’d changed her mind, because he was worried the truth might make his brother pop a blood vessel.

Mikoto gave a small shrug with the shoulder on her uninjured side. “Water under the bridge,” she said simply. She had stayed, and Rin saved her, and that was that. There was no point thinking about whether she should have left now.

She listened to Rin’s next rebuttal, thinking of a way to phrase her meaning better, but at his last sentence, she gave a small start, blinking at him. “If that was a jab at how loudly I was yelling at Shirou, your brother already chewed me out for that.” She glanced away. She still had enough pride left to not want to apologize, though she at least acknowledged she should have. She knew full well that she hadn’t meant most of what she’d said, that it was Shirou she was angry with, and even him not really, just her pain and frustration was coming out this way.

Instead of saying any of this, however, she just focused back on what Rin was saying next, her features softening for a moment. “Good. You already know you’re capable of progress.” She tilted her head, her expression saying isn’t that obvious? “You’ll do better eventually.” She thought back to what she’d just said about his usefulness, and in a rare moment of clarity, she knew that sounded far too callous. “Wouldn’t it be nice?” she asked quietly, her earlier small smile returning. “To just go out without feeling terrible about it?”

Rin flushed with embarrassment, ears pressing against the side of his head. “I-I didn’t mean for it to c-come out like that,” he said. “...And I didn’t ask Yukio to do that. He has more experience with humans than I do, so he can be a little... protective.” Being defended by his brother felt nice most of the time, but Rin would be lying if he said Yukio’s behavior wasn’t occasionally smothering. “You clearly changed your mind on a lot of what you said, s-so I’m not upset.” He was more than a little confused, but not upset.

The last of the smile vanished from Mikoto’s face as Rin talked, though rather than displeased she simply looked contemplative. “I could have left, you know,” she finally said, though it clearly showed in her voice that she wasn’t sure whether she was saying the right thing – whether she should say this at all. “I could have gone to get help for myself.” She trailed away, feeling as if any way she could finish this line of thought, it would come off as if she was holding Rin responsible, or making it sound like he owed her something for not leaving him there. The truth was, if Mikoto thought back, she honestly wasn’t sure why she had decided to stay. She couldn’t even be sure Rin would be able to help her close her wound, and yet by the time she’d decided to go with that, it had been too late to go with anything else.

“… I don’t think you realize how much faith you induce in people,” she murmured, voice dropping low, as she wasn’t even talking to him, just thinking out loud.

Gaze settled on Rin, the woman was silent for a while, thinking. Was it possible that her subconscious recognized something in the boy, that she realized without realizing that he wasn’t as weak as she’d initially thought? This was a supremely surreal thought, and yet it still made sense, somehow. After all, even before Shirou had told her about what had happened to Rin to make him act this way, she’d still trusted him with her life when push came to shove.

This had never happened with anyone else she’d ever worked with. And as quick Mikoto usually was to adapt in battle, right now, she was having serious trouble wrapping her mind around this. He was a demon, for Heaven’s sake! Mikoto had never trusted any of them, and with good reason.

But then, Rin was human, too. Maybe that was what made all the difference? She just didn’t know.

“I’m going to take you on a mission again,” she finally said, mouth thinning into a determined line. “When I’m healed. One where you don’t have to burn people. However,” an eyebrow quirked, though her expression still held a trace of sympathy, the same kind she’d shown at the train station, “you’ll have to try your best to do something about your fear of crowds. The vast majority of Order missions are not secluded, and you are far too powerful not to be fully utilized.”

“I-I would have understood if you left,” he said, looking down at his hands in his lap. Now that he was out of the situation, he knew it would have been the better option for her; the wound would scar no matter what, but his flames had made things much more grisly than they had to be. “...Once I was calmer, I would have understood,” Rin elaborated.

Rin knew himself well enough to know that being leaving him alone during a flashback was one of the worst things someone could do outside of attacking him. They would have even had the same end result, of Rin backed into a corner and snarling at anyone who came close. He probably wouldn’t have responded well to anyone but his mother and brother coming to collect him; even Father Fujimoto might have been harmed if he approached. It was probably for the best that Mikoto stayed, but he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty.

He looked up with wide eyes at Mikoto’s quiet comment, visibly confused. Rin, a cause of faith? “Usually people don’t believe in me, Mikoto-san.” The half-demon didn’t appear particularly upset by this— he was simply stating a fact. “They d-don’t tell me out loud, but I’m not blind... and humans often talk loud enough that I hear it anyways.” Rin knew that plenty of his instructors believed that his control of his flames was overstated, and that a demon summoning demons was dangerous. He had once unintentionally overheard Neuhaus-sensei warning another teacher that Rin’s shyness was an act, and that he was actually malicious.

“S-So thank you,” Rin said, fidgeting. “F-For believing in me, even th-though I didn’t give you any reasons to...” The thought of going on another mission made his heart race, but he tried to hide his fear; it was technically good that he was being given a second chance, after all. 

Mikoto turned her hands around, looking at her palm before looking back up at Rin. “You don’t remember any of it?” She thought back to the story Shirou had sketched for her before Yukio barged in on them, and she had to stifle a sigh. Well, no wonder. “I sliced it on my sword to summon,” she explained, laying it down to rest in her lap again. “I was hurrying it, so I cut too deep. It’ll probably heal, don’t worry about it.”

She’d expected a lot of things after her question, but the answer she actually got startled her into laughter, especially when Rin buried his face in his hands. “Hahaha! Oh, you’re too honest for your own good! Oh – ow…” Yes, well, laughing was not the best idea; it pulled at her wound to the point where she was momentarily breathless with it.

Her smile was gone when she looked up again, but her serious expression was different from anything Rin had ever seen on her face. There was something like softness in it, and something almost ceremonial. She didn’t think Rin was expecting her next words. Truthfully, she hadn’t expected herself to arrive to this conclusion until she actually stopped to think about it.

He’ll never make it, was what she’d told her brother.

“What you did back there. I wanted to talk to you about it.” She paused for a moment. “Against all my expectations and hangups, I am impressed.” The small smile was back, knowing Rin would likely be confused. “For most people, that kind of flashback you seemed to be having is almost impossible to come out of without any outside help. Yet you did, even though I was asking you to do something awful.” She touched her side gently, mouth twitching in pain. Ultimately, her meaning’s focus was one penultimate thing.

“Thank you for saving my life.”

“I remember everything up until burning those zombies, and then burning you, and... that’s it,” he said quietly, looking at the ground. He couldn’t believe he’d been out of it enough to miss a demon being summoned— although it made sense, considering he’d also been out of it enough to miss dismissing his own summon.

Hearing Mikoto laugh made Rin groan softly into his hands, hunching over in his seat. It was better than offending her, but still embarrassing... as if everything that had happened up until this point didn’t make him appear weak enough.

Rin took his hands away from his face, staring down at the floor and awaiting a verbal lashing. When it never came, his head shot up to give Mikoto a slack-jawed look of surprise. “I... I just did what I had to,” he said. “It w-was my fault, a-and I was aware enough to tell you were going to die if I didn’t do something, s-so I...” His fingers wrapped around the wrist of the hand he’d burnt Mikoto with; his expression was clearly one of someone holding back nausea. Even now, just thinking about burning Mikoto like that made him feel physically ill— he wasn’t sure how he’d done it. “I’m glad you made it. I-I was really worried, especially because I couldn’t get help...”

Mikoto decidedly did not like the expression of fear on Rin’s face as he entered the room. It was interesting to see, however, how different he was interacting with his brother than in any other moment Mikoto had seen him so far. An inexplicable feeling of relief swelled in her chest at the sight of him, and before she would have thought twice, she called after the retreating group.

“Rin, I need to talk to you.”

This time, Shirou did rise from his seat, his gaze holding a warning. Mikoto remained stony-faced, though inwardly she was smiling. When she saw he was about to say something, she held out her hands towards him, palms up, showing the red splotches across her wound dressings. “Could you bring me replacements for these?” There was no hint of her earlier anger in her voice, and, just for a moment, Shirou couldn’t help but be impressed by her self-control. This, more than anything else, was what made him finally nod, turning to leave the room with Yuri and Yukio. “Take your time,” Mikoto added as an afterthought, dropping her hands in her lap. To anyone that didn’t know her, her sudden cheer would have likely sounded threatening.

The Arc Knight waited until it was just the two of them, then motioned with her chin to the seat Shirou had vacated next to her bed. “Sit down.” Another few moments of silence while he obeyed; in the meantime, she curled and flexed her fingers experimentally, just to see if she’d done a lot of damage to her already wrecked hand. If she hadn’t been so desperate to get them out of the situation so quick, she would have been more cautious with how much she cut herself. Vaayu didn’t need that much of her blood.

Looking up at him, Mikoto’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Why are you so scared of me?”

Rin froze where he stood, looking like a deer caught in the headlights; Mikoto was suddenly very calm, and that scared him more than if she’d continued to be angry. Why wasn’t she angry? 

The wounds on her hands made him feel a stab of guilt. He knew that a zombie had hurt her side, but he had no recollection of anything happening to her hands. Had he hurt Mikoto after all? “H-How did that happen? Your hands, I-I mean,” Rin said, wringing his own hands. “I was r-really out of it— w-well, you know that already, but I-I don’t remember a whole lot, i-is what I’m trying to say...” He trailed off, still fidgeting.

Whatever she decided to say or do to him, Rin deserved. He gave a small nod and moved to sit down; he tried to put on a brave face, but the poorly concealed fear in his eyes and the fact that his tail was literally between his legs gave away how nervous he was.