When Ei arrived, holding a tiny phoenix in her arms, Makoto knew they were too late.
Another Phoenix had disappeared from the lands yet again.
She waited beneath the branches of the Sacred Sakura.
Her ever present wagasa was folded away as Ei came to her side.
"He was all that was left," she told her.
Her voice was flat.
But Makoto could hear sorrow in her tone.
The quiet frustration beneath her eyes.
She stared at her sister, who held the tiny Phoenix ever dearly.
"What will you do with him?"
Ei didn't speak.
Her lavender eyes swept away from Makoto to the lands of Inazuma.
Their beautifully vast country that they ruled together.
Makoto waited patiently.
She knew her sister well.
Ei was not one to make fast decisions off the battlefield.
Makoto smiled when several minutes passed, "You want to keep him."
Ei didn't look at her, "…Until he's old enough to leave."
Makoto really looked at her sister then.
Saw how she held the tiny, tiny Phoenix so gently.
A large contrast to her composure in battle.
Maybe— just maybe her dear twin will learn to treasure moments like these.
"You do know that Phoenixes tend to live for hundreds of years under their parents' wings, right?"
Ei actually looked at her this time, over the soft snowy hair, "You do know that I know you're joking, right?"
Makoto simply opened her wagasa, and gently laughed beneath a hand.
._._._._._.
Kazuha blinked up at a wooden ceiling instead of rock.
Something covered him.
Something soft.
Warm.
He sat up, gathering a thick fabric to his chest.
It was silky against his skin.
Something he rarely touched.
He blinked at the pretty colors, all vibrant and oddly soothing.
Kazuha gently rubbed his fingers on it, glancing around him.
He wasn't in a tent.
Nor some cave near a coast.
Or a gap in a waterfall.
He was in a room.
Three walls and a large open garden beyond it.
Kazuha blinked once, twice—
Even rubbed his eyes for a good measure.
But he didn't wake up.
He already was wide awake.
Kazuha jolted when a door slid open.
He thought for a second that it was mother.
But it wasn't.
It wasn't his mother at all.
His maple red eyes were wide with shock.
The woman before him smiled, and spoke to him.
But he heard absolutely none of it.
His breath caught in his throat when he realized it.
This— this was real.
A quick flash of fear crossed his bones.
One that screamed at him to run.
It kicked him into action a second later.
Kazuha scrambled out of the soft, warm fabrics and stepped onto the cold tatami mats.
His lips moved, thinking of his mother.
To breathe silent words to find her—
But his own breath died in his throat.
Bare feet pattered against the tatami mats.
And into the engawa.
A tiny whine threatened to escape.
Because where was his mother?
Then he blinked.
Images of his mother's wings being snapped in the maws of a monster.
Of his mother standing before him with scarlet red staining her snowy hair.
Of his mother smiling so lovingly at him—
Before she was dragged and torn apart before his eyes.
There was a shout behind him.
Voices flew over his head and footsteps echoed around him.
Kazuha didn't understand any of it.
Couldn't hear any of it.
Because all he could hear was his heart beating so loudly in his chest.
(Could hear the roaring monster after him, ready to claw him apart.)
All he could see were walls, walls, walls— and more walls.
Hands tried to snatch him.
Reached for his thin kimono or his arms.
But Kazuha instinctively dodged every single one of them.
(As if claws were trying to snag at his clothes to pin him down.)
Just like mother always, always told him.
("For your safety, be light on your feet and let the wind will guide you.")
Kazuha didn't scream.
Didn't cry.
But he wanted to so badly.
He could feel his throat tighten with every breath he took.
So he kept running from the reaching hands that tried to stop him.
From the voices that sounded panicked and maybe a little desperate.
Until he turned a corner.
Strong arms caught him before he noticed.
His feet dangled in the air as he was pulled into a warm embrace.
It trapped him in place.
Kept him from squirming to get away.
Those arms refused to give way—
Kazuha struggled against it—
Until a warm, gentle hand ran through his hair.
A voice eased its way through the thundering beats of his heart.
It sounded kind, assuring, grounding.
Kazuha knew this voice.
He heard it before.
There, in that place that was covered with nothing but the blood of his mother.
He heard it now.
Here, securely locked in place in a warmth he only started to learn.
Kazuha looked up and finally, finally heard her.
"It's alright, Kazuha. You're safe. I'm here."
Kazuha didn't scream.
Didn't cry.
But hell did he want to.
Instead, Kazuha closed his eyes.
And pretended that Ei's voice was hers.
It was only just for that moment where Kazuha allowed himself to run from reality a little longer.
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(The fire crackled and the shadows danced.
Kazuha clung to her kimono, hiding his face in her sleeves.
Her hand was gentle as she ran though his hair.
"It's alright, Kazuha. You're safe. I'm here.")
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._._._._._.
There were two Ei's.
Kazuha spent a whole minute staring at the other.
She held the same face as Ei.
Same lavender eyes—
But she was warmer.
Kinder.
Just like his mother.
Kazuha didn't come to her side though.
He stayed by Ei's, clutching the kimono as he half hid behind her.
He didn't bother listening to Ei's voice.
Telling him that it was okay.
That she wouldn't dare to hurt him.
The other Ei smiled at him.
Even bent down to see him closer.
"Hello there, little one," she greeted him.
"I am Makoto, Ei's twin sister. What's your name?"
Makoto smiled gently, just like his mother once did.
It was almost funny how she seemed kinder than Ei, actually.
Kazuha took a small breath, and spoke his name.
"Kazuha—"
His voice cracked and hollowed before he could finish.
It felt strange to talk.
To feel his tongue shift in his mouth.
To form the name his mother so dearly called him.
He rubbed his throat, wanting the weird sensation to leave.
Makoto held out her hands, just like Ei when she picked him up.
Kazuha eyed her warily.
And looked up to Ei.
She had similar smile on her face.
One that spoke of safety and assurance.
One he slowly began to trust.
Hesitantly, Kazuha pulled himself away from Ei's side.
And let the other pick him up.
He was scared.
Very scared.
But Makoto's touch was kind.
Gentle.
"I know you're scared," she spoke to him, as if she could read his every thought.
Kazuha looked away, shifting his weight to go back down.
Yet, Makoto shifted to keep him balanced.
"But you're such a brave Phoenix."
Maple red glanced at warm lavender.
There was a promise behind Makoto's eyes.
One that reflected off of Ei's own lavender, too.
It was then that Kazuha decided that it was alright.
He was fine.
It was also then that he decided that it was not alright.
Mother smiled just as kindly as them.
And Kazuha didn't scream.
Didn't cry.
Instead, he managed a shaky smile.
And said nothing more.
._._._._._.
There were a ton of things that were given to Kazuha.
But he didn't have a clue as to what to do with a kendama.
Or that handful of glass ohajiki pieces that sat on a shelf.
Or the multiple brushes beside a stack of paper.
Or the bottles filled with different colors of ink.
He never really played with anything really.
There wasn't ever time to.
(Although, Kazuha took interest in the ink and the brushes.
He had seen mother dip a brush into the ink and write.
The words she wrote looked beautiful.
He only remembered how she spent very few nights with him.
In the dying embers of their lit fire.
Holding and guiding his hand as they moved together over a tree bark.
Writing his own name over and over and over.
"Remember this, Kazuha," she whispered into his hair.
"This is Kazuha. Every line, every stroke—Your name.")
Kazuha was suddenly given time.
So much time that he didn't know what to with it.
Kazuha stared at the ink bottles.
Took up a brush and a paper.
And wrote.
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Hours later, Makoto peeked into the room.
Kazuha was curled up in the middle of the room.
Tens and tens of paper were scattered about.
All with the same characters written over and over and over—
Except one.
Makoto slipped into the room and picked it up.
A crude drawing of a red little boy and a green mother was cocooned in a black cave.
Purple ink blotted random places.
Seemingly no significance at all.
Makoto quietly placed it back on the ground.
Along with the tens and tens of "Kazuha".
And gently nudged the little phoenix.
It took seconds— maybe even minutes for him to stir.
Maple red blinked up wearily at her.
As if he almost didn't recognize anything.
Didn't recognize her specifically.
It was funny really.
How this precious little Phoenix knew the difference between them.
Makoto smiled, not feeling the urge to speak.
She learned now, that Kazuha could hear unspoken words better than the heard.
That Kazuha could understand what she asked when she simply reached for him.
The little Phoenix took seconds, maybe even minutes.
Before he finally, finally took her hand.
._._._._._.
Kazuha needed to leave.
That much, he knew.
The rules ingrained in his bones echoed day after day.
To travel incited danger.
To stay in one place too long invited danger.
A heavy weight settled in his stomach as his stay steadily grew longer.
It made it difficult to taste anything they gave him.
In fact, Kazuha's nerves were getting to him.
He couldn't help flinching every time someone touched him.
Even though Ei and Makoto were so kind in their gestures, Kazuha shied from them often.
He figured that it would be best to distance himself from them.
Maybe find someway to slip away and make a run for it.
He was so close on multiple occasions.
But he was always, always caught in the arms of a human.
If only the humans that tended to this large place could just leave him alone.
Which was exactly why Kazuha stayed up late this time.
He pretended to fall asleep in that big spacious room.
He knew that down the hall Makoto was there.
Ei was somewhere out and about.
(Kazuha had peeked out of his room once one night.
Saw Ei stand upon the rooftops with her naginata in her hand.
Saw her drop over the wall and was gone the next second.
Kazuha didn't hear her return until early, early morning.)
But Kazuha was certain that he could slip past her.
In fact, he managed to go as far as the gardens.
Now, Kazuha was a quiet one by nature.
He was soundless as he crossed the floorboards.
Each step lightly taken.
He almost made it to the edge of the large place.
Until a pair of thin arms caught him.
Yet.
Again.
Kazuha didn't yell in surprise.
Didn't even squirm.
He merely looked up at his captor.
Makoto smiled down at him.
"Kazuha, as quiet you may be, your presence is very noticeable."
Kazuha didn't pout.
Instead, he did try to pry himself out of her grip.
Because really— he shouldn't be here.
Shouldn't stay any longer.
Kazuha was downright terrified of what would happen.
If he didn't go now.
And yet, Makoto held on.
She was just as strong as her sister.
Just as steady and firm.
Makoto picked him up, "I know you're scared."
Kazuha really did try to leave her.
To escape from the kindness that pulled him into safety.
(Safe— but for how much longer?)
"But be assured, Kazuha," Makoto carried him as she leapt to the rooftops.
They climbed higher and higher.
Until they were at the highest point of the home that Ei and Makoto lived within.
The night sky was littered in stars.
The night air was cold against his skin.
And yet, Makoto held him close.
"Look there," she pointed beyond the home.
Miles and miles away.
At the edges of the island Kazuha never seen from high, high above.
Kazuha could see her.
Could see Ei flashing from one place to another.
The gold light of her attacks shined as subtle as the stars.
Mere moments in the night.
Maple red couldn't help but watch.
His ears listened as Makoto told him honestly.
How every night Ei would wander the lands of Inazuma.
And vanquish the uninvited shadows that crawled up to their lands.
Makoto looked at him, just as the sky began to brighten, "I promise you are safe in our hands."
(It was scary, how a flash of a memory flitted behind his maple red eyes.
How his mother smiled at him as she was torn away from him.
Even when they both knew that it would be her last.
How his mother was suddenly replaced.
How Ei was torn away from him.
How Makoto was torn away.
He was so scared.
So terrified—)
Kazuha gripped Makoto's kimono.
And tried to say something, anything.
But his words died in his throat at the pure honesty in lavender eyes.
The pure and utter determination to keep her word.
Kazuha stared at her.
Mouth agape and wordless.
If only for now, Kazuha dared to trust her.
Dared to trust in the sisters that took him in.
He gently pulled at her kimono and spoke so quietly.
In a voice barely ever used, "Okay."
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