Playing With Fire
A/n: This is just a little idea my friend came up with, after discussing the spiritual powers in Inuyasha with me, but as she only writes inukag, she wasn't much interested in writing this. This flashback is one of four he is going to have. .loveacrosstime. helped write this some, but as I said, she was more interested in the inukag… Kajihou is the name of young Renkotsu. It means firecannon.
"You're not getting away, bastards!" Inuyasha growled, drawing the Tetsusagia.
"You're so cute when you're angry. I just can't wait to see you beg!" Jakotsu said. Kagome's eyes narrowed, and she unconsciously notched an arrow. Inuyasha dodged the flying Jakotsutou.
Suikotsu crept up behind Kagome and raised his claws, intending to slash her head.
"Kagome," cried Sango, throwing her Hiraikotsu at the claw-wielder who dodged the attack.
Renkotsu shot his cannon at the unsuspecting monk, who was busy watching Sango. "If you can't keep your eyes off her, you will die." Miroku dodged a spurt of flame and another cannonball, before Kirara managed to knock the cannon out of Renkotsu's grasp.
"I've got you now!" yelled the young monk, preparing to bring his staff down on Renkotsu. The fire-breather grabbed the first thing he saw, a long stick, and, without thinking, blocked his attack. As the two fought, Miroku began to notice how Renkotsu used his makeshift weapon. The style he was using was the kind monks, such as Miroku himself, used, and it was clearly second nature to him.
Miroku's eyes widened as a bolt of red energy flew at him. He blinked, and a swirling barrier appeared around him, deflecting Renkotsu's aura.
"That was spiritual power," he said softly. "What are you hiding, Renkotsu?"
"I have nothing to hide from the likes of you!" Renkotsu hurled another bolt of pure power at the monk. It bounced off his barrier, but this time it did not dissolve. It spread, engulfing the whole battlefield. Expecting a brainless assault from Inuyasha, Miroku turned around. The battlefield was silent. No one moved.
"Looks like I froze your little friends." Renkotsu smirked.
"You do not have enough control. You froze your own friends as well." Miroku took a step toward Renkotsu. "You have spiritual power, that fact is undeniable. But you are not fully trained."
"No," Renkotsu mumbled. Miroku stared at him. "No," he repeated.
"Where would a mercenary such as yourself learn something like that?" Miroku asked quietly. Renkotsu blinked. He looked away from the younger man.
"I have no idea what you are talking about. I have no such abilities."
"Didn't you just say you were the one to freeze the battlefield? No average mortal could do that."
"I am not an average mortal, monk."
"You say that as an insult when you seem to have been one yourself."
"I…I…never!" Renkotsu sputtered, taking a step away and spitting fire at his opponent. Miroku smiled calmly. His barrier would hold off the fire. A thought came to the monk. I wonder…if Renkotsu found himself under spiritual assault, would he put up a barrier? If he would…if he could… Miroku raised a hand. Purplish fire glittered around it, and he hurled it at Renkotsu.
A red glow formed around the fire-breather. "As if a simple spell would hurt me."
"It may not have hurt you, but it has revealed you for what you are. Do not deny it."
"Why would it be of any concern to you?"
"Interest. Curiosity." Miroku smiled. "How would a monk become…someone like you?"
"How…" Renkotsu gritted his teeth. How indeed…
ooooo
That day, the whole monastery was full of monks and outsiders, preparing for the feast. Even ones in training. Even a small boy named Kajihou. The eight-year-old boy tripped over his sandals, sprawling onto the floor, and taking the glass plate he was carrying down with him. The little boy's eyes filled with tears as he saw the angry looks he received for breaking such a valuable object. He was roughly pulled to his feet and given two long candles.
"Here. You can't break these," a voice spat, before giving him a push to send him on his way again. Kajihou clutched the candlesticks to his chest, clumsily making his way to the head table.
"Here." An older monk that Kajihou barely knew shoved a torch into the boy's hand.
"W-what…" Kajihou stared at the torch, watching the flames.
"Light the candles, boy." The monk stalked away. Kajihou gulped. He didn't want to tear his eyes away from the dancing flames. I wonder… Flames seemed so dangerous. And so beautiful. He wanted to see more. Kajihou dropped the torch onto the end table next to him, staring in awe as it caught fire.
"Fire!" Shouts filled the hall. Kajihou's head snapped up. What did I do? He jumped back from the smoldering table, shaking his head to clear it. What just…came over me…?
"Get away!" He was grabbed around the waist and carried to the other side of the hall. By the time Kajihou was on the other side of the hall, the fire had already been put out, to his disappointment.
"Who started it? There is no way a fire could have started there by itself."
The older monk walked up to the scene and pointed at Kajihou. "It was he! I gave him a torch to light the candles, and he set the table on fire in hopes the whole monastery would burn to ashes!" All eyes turned to him. Kajihou quivered in fear.
"I—I would n—never…I—I don't want to b—burn it…" he managed to stutter. He was grabbed up by the back of his robes.
"So you don't deny you did it, boy?" the monk spat. "Go to your room and spend the next two days in prayer…with no food!" Kajihou was carried to his room and tossed on the bed.
"Don't you even think about leaving!" The boy shivered with fear. What were they thinking? He would never try to burn down the monastery. The fire had just been so beautiful…