Out of all the ways a day could start, it had to start with snot running from an itchy nose, a throat that felt like sandpaper, and a high fever that made his skin feel like pricking needles. Rin never got ill, it was not a thing that happened, and yet here he was, stuck in bed with nothing to do and no one to talk to. Yukio thought he caught the demon flu that was circling around True Cross Academy and therefore ordered his brother to stay home and rest until he got better. Such bullshit, he was fine! A stupid fever wouldn't hold him back. If he couldn't go to cram school, then he would be productive at the dorm! Maybe he could clean up their room, or do the laundry, anything that would prove to his younger brother that a fever could not keep a half-demon out of commission.
It had been a solid plan, a way to surprise a stressed-out Yukio while proving that he could take care of himself, but like everything else in Rin's life, it failed miserably.
He'd managed to drag himself out of his warm, comfortable bed, and with slow, lazy movements and occasional sore groans, he collected dirty clothes that were scattered around their room. He had to take minor breaks to blow his nose to avoid sneezing his brains out. Once he had collected a good pile of colored clothes that was mostly his, he headed out into the hall and towards the laundry room. Despite a killer migraine that felt like it was about to split open his head, and feeling close to collapsing, his plan was going splendid. He put the fabric in the washing machine and was about to close the lid when he felt a sneeze approaching. Having no tissues, the boy could not help it and gave out a loud, wet sneeze that echoed throughout the small, almost empty room. He hadn't prepared himself for what followed. The jerking movement had triggered his flames, and since his focus had been on the laundry, it was now set alight.
Thinking fast, Rin turned on the machine hoping that water would take out the inferno he accidentally created, but all it did was turning the soon-to-be ashes around and around in a painful loop. He could feel his palms getting sweaty and his stomach aching from the mere thought of his brother finding out about this. He knew he would, something was missing after all. They would now be in a lack of clothes.
To avoid a second sneeze that was threatening to come, a barefooted Rin hurried to hold his nose and ran towards his room to get a tissue. If he could avoid sneezing, then he just might avoid burning down the dormitory.
He got his hands on one just in time and blew his stuffy nose. Why did everything have to be so damn complicated? He couldn't even be sick without some stupid complications. To top it off, that race from the laundry room to his dorm had given him a dizzy spell, so now he had to stay in bed until the room stopped spinning or risk throwing up his breakfast. It could be worse; he could have burned down the ceiling or the wooden floorboards. That would have been catastrophic.
Still, how was he going to break the news to his brother? 'Hey little bro, I ruined half of your wardrobe with my flames after going against your orders of staying in bed.' It didn't have a nice ring to it. Maybe he should listen for once and rest? Surely, that would not do any harm.
Deciding to obey for once, Rin reached for one of his brother's manga's and started to read once the dizziness had seized. It was about a teen couple fighting zombies in Kyoto, a city he had never been to before. The boy was wielding an axe, while the girl was using a shotgun. They were complete strangers that somehow ended up being stuck in the same warehouse. He was about halfway done reading when his nose suddenly started to itch again. He reached out for a tissue, only to find the box empty. Crap.
Unable to hold it back, he let out a sneeze and the manga burst into flames. Shit.
He tried to take it out with his blanket, only for the fabric to burst into flames as well. Holy shit.
Rin could now add a manga and a blanket to the list of casualties. This was the exact reason as to why he had to learn to control his flames. Had it happened in class then he would be as good as dead. Then again, death was just around the corner in the form of a four-eyed mole face.
'Here lies a boy who was killed for burning his brother's possessions.' written in big, fat letters on his tombstone. Accident or not, his life was about to end, and if family did not kill him, then the illness would go on and end him instead.
That was the one and only time the half-demon prayed to a God that he knew didn't exist.