Spark, Fire, Inferno

The day of his ninth birthday, Shinya’s brother comes home with dust on his clothes and scrapes on his knees.

Shinya thinks nothing of it, distracted as he is by his party. If his brother is a little more affectionate than he used to, well, it is his day, right? And if he’s a little less rough at times, a little more patient- Shinya just thinks that maybe he’s growing up. And if he seems to forget obvious things at times, if he keeps burning his hands on the stove- Shinya just pokes fun of him, worthy payback for years of teasing.

Shinya thinks nothing of it, and neither do his parents.

(His brother, he’ll learn later, is really good at playing human.)

He thinks nothing of it. Not until that night anyway.

He wakes up thirsty.

It’s been a regular occurrence, with the heat of summer. Normally, Shinya would just ignore it and fall right back asleep.

But there are footsteps in the hallway.

Shinya’s eyes snap open.

The steps are heavy. Sluggish, almost. Slow and lazy, dragging over the floor.

Swallowing hard, Shinya hurls himself out of bed, grabbing his flashlight.

The steps don’t belong to anyone in Shinya’s family.

They don’t belong to anyone the size of Shinya’s family members.

With trembling hands, Shinya opens the door and follows them on his tiptoes.

He’s not sure what he expects. A burglar, maybe. A stray dog. A demon.

What he finds, is his brother sitting on the dinner table, back hunched and match in his palm

The boy tenses at the sudden light, flattening himself against the wooden surface like a cat about to pounce.

Shinya feels a shiver running down his spine when the glare lands on him.

“ You .” Shinya recoils at Takuya’s voice- at the burning-white anger bleeding through.

Shinya backs down quickly, turns to run- not fast enough. His brother jumps off the table swift as a feline and slams both hands on the side of Shinya’s head, caging him. He brings his face close, close to Shinya, foreheads almost touching.

The flashlight feels heavy in Shinya’s palm, his only weapon against the animal wearing Takuya’s face. Under the artificial light, his eyes feel like a gate to hell.

“Tell anyone what you saw,” Takuya’s voice is low, low, a sharp contrast to his usual loud self. Like a spark running across a rope, ready to ignite fireworks. “And I will skin you alive.”

Shaking, Shinya nods, and the person that is not Takuya smiles and pats his head. He makes sure to show all his teeth.

The next morning, his brother moves to ruffle his hair. When Shinya flinches, he blinks, surprised- and concerned. As if nothing was wrong.

“Have a good day at school, pipsqueak!” Takuya calls nonetheless. Like a good brother.

Shinya rushes out.

After that, it feels like they’re jumping to his face, these moments where his brother act in a way completely unlike Takuya.

His brother kisses him on the forehead at times, and smiles in a way that is too genuine to be comfortable. “Good morning.” he says in a voice so soft Shinya half expected him to claim he had cancer the first time he heard it.

His brother gets violent, at others. Not physically, not at him, but rather in the way he moves and speak. He slams the plates just a little too roughly on the table, rolls his eyes with slightly more disdain than annoyance when his father scolds him. And he looks at Shinya, with this scorching-scalding glare that freaks him out inside his bones.

Shinya counts three of his brother; Takuya, the quiet one, and the angry one (in order of apparition frequency).

Anime tells Shinya that his brother is either sick or possessed, but he really hopes it’s the latter, because there isn’t much he can do if it’s the former. He has half a mind to talk to his parents about it, but Shinya has experience regarding accusing his brother of things in front of his parents, and he knows he won’t get anywhere without any solid proof.

Which means, Shinya is on his own when he decides to spend his pocket money in the local Shinto temple.

“What, are you converting?” Takuya (snark in his voice, warmth in his tone) asks when Shinya shoves in his palm a handful of charms. Regardless, he humors Shinya and keeps them in his pocket, which is all he asks for really.

He keeps them for about three days. Then Shinya walks into the angry one (chest trembling, shoulders tensing) methodically shoving them in his mouth. He stares at Shinya the whole time.

So, Shintoism is a no. Shinya would get crosses at the church, but they’re too expensive for him. He settles for stealing holy water instead.

Takuya (feet always tapping, a soccer ball under the arm) raises an eyebrow in confusion. “... You know I’m going to get sweaty on my own, right? No need to pre-spray me.”

Which, fair. Perhaps giving him the full bottle to drink later would have been more effective. Shinya decides to do just that.

When his brother is back, the bottle is empty. He’s also not Takuya. “Thank you.” He hands the bottle back with a soft smile (breath too slow, feet still.)

Darn it.

Anime taught him not to mess with youkais. Though, Shinya has run out of alternatives, and he is nothing if not a Kanbara child at heart. So, the next time he sees his brother inspecting an electronic device, Shinya decides to confront him.

(Of course he confronts the quiet one first. Despite his age and genetics, Shinya does have some sense of self preservation.)

“That’s a rice cooker.” he says, stepping closer. “You put rice and water in,” he points at the button on the side “and press here to cook it.”

His brother is good at acting, Shinya thinks. It passes in a blink, his expression of wonder and understanding.

“Thank you, but I already knew.” His brother answer with a voice that lacks bite. He puts the rice cooker back in its place, seemingly satisfied.

Now is a good time as any, Shinya thinks. “So what are you, a kitsune?”

His brother freezes.

“... What are you talking about ?” He chuckles- but it’s nervous. “I am fully human.” He pats his own chest all over. “See?”

“But you’re not Takuya.” Shinya replies. “Takuya doesn’t speak like that.” Takuya uses slangs and contractions (not to mention would have called him an idiot in the process). The quiet one is too polite, makes sentences way too long. “Also, Takuya knows what a rice cooker is.”

His brother look around, pointedly avoiding Shinya’s gaze. Looking for an explanation, he guesses.

“So. What are you?” Shinya really wishes they would cut the denial part. He doesn’t have nearly enough patience in him for that. “Ghost? Demon? Bakeneko?”

“...neither.” his brother look back at him, finally.

“I am the warmth in your veins. I am the heat of summer. I am the flame of the candles you light.”

“I am the human spirit of fire. I am Agunimon.”

In mangas, Shinya often reads about the power of names, what with calling out your attacks and all. He supposes it’s a little like this; a sudden warmth spreading across his fingers, like drinking hot chocolate.

“... But you keep burning your hands.” An image come to his mind; Takuya, detailing his palms, frowning. As if he didn’t remember getting them wounded in the first place.

“Ah, well.” Agni rubs the back of his head sheepishly (Shinya still feels the tickle under his skin; he doesn’t think his brother’s name is one he should call lightly.) “The body is human. It takes some time getting used to the whole concept of getting hurt.”

Shinya wonders what kind of body Agni had before, if he couldn't get injured. If he had a body at all. Maybe he was just intangible flames.

“Are you taking over my brother?” Shinya fought a lot with Takuya, before. But that doesn’t mean he wants him gone . And spirit of fire or not… Shinya will fight if he’s a threat.

But Agni shakes his head. “We’re only here because Takuya wore our skin too much before. This is as far as we will encroach, I swear.”

There are a lot of questions Shinya wants to ask. For now though, the most important ones has been answered. He can’t help but sigh in relief.

For a while, it’s like this; Shinya, Takuya, Agni. Shinya still sees glimpses of the angry one, every once in a while, but this brother of his doesn’t seem to like hanging around people. (Unlike Agni, who is mostly awkward and confused for all of his titles, but agrees to amuse Shinya most of the time.)

One day, though, his parents are out to get groceries, and his brother comes home. He has a busted lip.

“You should have seen the other guy.” He barks out a laugh (voice full of bite, growl at the back of the throat) Shinya still shivers when those eyes set on him. He goes to grab the first aid kit nonetheless.

His brother squints his eyes and huffs. “You don’t have to help me.”

“That’s Takuya and Agni’s body too, though.” Shinya isn’t sure what to do. His brother seems to though, because he grabs alcohol and rag and starts cleaning his wound. “Gotta take care of it.”

His brother stares. Unblinking. The angry one doesn’t blink often, in general.

“Do you know who I am?”

It’s the first time he interact with Shinya in a way that isn’t outright threatening.

Shinya answers truthfully.

“You are my brother.”

Slowly, his brother blinks.

Then he starts laughing.

“You’ve got guts.” He says, which might be a compliment or might be an insult. “Alright. I am your brother .”

It sounds like a contract. Like a promise. Like a dragon claiming his gold.

“I am the burning Sun. I am the cigarette you forgot to snuff out. I am the flames that will devour lives and buildings alike, until not even man’s hopes and dreams remains.”

“I am the beast spirit of fire. I am Vritramon.”

If Agni had been a gentle touch, Vritra felt like a slap in the face. It was something furious and uncontrolled; a wildfire that couldn’t be tamed.

Fire in all its form, bright and hungry and intense. Dimly, Shinya thinks that he really shouldn’t be surprised Takuya ended up with those two.

It really shouldn’t be so easy, to get used to this. But Shinya is a child, and a Kanbara with that.

They never say it to him, not outright, but Shinya guesses that it must be pretty lonely, to only exist to pretend to be someone else. He sees that in the way Agni and Vritra both come to gravitate around him, lean on him.

It bleeds through Agni’s smile when Shinya discreetly shows him how to use the kitchen tools when their mom ask them to help cooking. Through the soft tone when he asks Shinya to help him pass a metal gear solid level. Through his shoulders relaxing when he hears someone coming in and realize it’s Shinya, just Shinya, and he doesn’t have to put down his book to pretend he was kicking the ball.

It bleeds through Vritra’s grip, when he takes Shinya’s arm and says let’s go parkour. Through Vritra’s growl when they pillow fight. Through Vritra’s wink when he slips a lighter in Shinya’s palm.

Shinya comes to love him, his brother. All three of his brother.

Whatever you do, fire will never fails you .

He doesn’t recall which one said that first.

But Shinya won’t fail fire, either.

Shinya finds the boy at the convenience store.

He doesn’t pay him any attention, at first. He has his own grocery list to fill, else his mother will scold him.

But twenty minutes in and he notices the boy still hasn’t moved from his aisle. Or put down the product he’s flipping around, observing curiously, as if-

Agni looking at the microwave under all the angles, trying to figure out how it works, what it’s for-

-he had never seen one before.

Stepping closer, Shinya recognizes the boy- it’s a friend of Takuya’s, whom he’d met a while back. A quiet but nice guy.

“It’s an electric razor.” Shinya says. “You use it to shave your beard.”

The boy starts at his sudden intervention, blinking rapidly.

“... Thanks.” He says. “But I knew that already.” Regardless, he sets the product back on the shelf, and Shinya thinks he sees the ghost of a smile on his lips-

It would be stupid, to act upon gut feelings and vague similarities.

But Shinya is a Kanbara, as well as a child.

“Are you so quiet because you don’t know how to be human either?”

The boy stops breathing.

“... I am Kimura Kouichi.” He says, with too much defense and too much despair to be genuine.

“Not what I asked.” Spirits, Shinya has learned, cannot lie directly. That’s why Agni just dodges anything he doesn’t want to answer and Vritra flat-out refuses to respond.

Shinya gives what he intends to be a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. My brother isn’t always Takuya, either.”

The boy looks at his feet. Shinya is surprised to see there is sadness, here. Guilt.

“I have to be Kimura Kouichi.” He repeats. “I think he was quiet. I’m not sure. I only really knew him in death.” The boy shakes his head. “I’m still learning to be human. It’s safer to be quiet. I can’t let anyone know their friend and brother and son is never coming home.”

Oh.

Oh, no.

“Kimura Kouichi…” Shinya swallows hard. He’s not sure this is a question he wants the answer to. “Whose skin did he wear?”

The boy smiles. It has no joy.

“I am the zero, the in-between. The never seen, never been. I am death in its simplest form.”

“I am the human spirit of darkness, Loweemon. But that’s a name I will take to the grave.”