A/N: Written for the Flash Bingo at the AMF, prompt #168 – ignore
Not Like His Sister
Kaito had expected the same frail sister he'd left behind when he returned, and, initially, that was what he saw. She had grown somewhat, but her hair was still smooth and a soft wheat-gold colouring so like his own. And her skin was still white and frail: easy to break, and within seconds of leaving the protection of the palace her dress was torn and her arm was dripping blood.
But then he'd lost her and the next time he saw her she was a menace. The change was something he failed to understand – but at the same time it was a blessing, because it made things easier for him. There was no way she was Alita in soul even if the body was the same. There was no kinship there: no kinship that might have held him back from taking her.
After all, he'd hesitated in the forest, and lost her. Whatever magic had stolen her soul and replaced it with another's must have occurred there. In a way, it was his own carelessness – because his sister would have had to see his face, and learn what the world had truly become. But he could spare her from that now.
And whoever the now soul was, he wouldn't hesitate to strike her down and carry her body to the door. The body wouldn't fool him: there wasn't the same fragility, the same soft eyes that had been so adoring and worshipping of him before, in that youth before he'd left her – and his view of the world had been changed.
In some subverted way, he could fulfil his duty as a brother still, still protect her – while fulfilling his role as the being with the power to save their world…through Teoria.