A/N: A big thank you to my beta Amputation, for pointing me in the right direction in terms of characterisation and word choice.

To the reviewer named Dark Drow, please sign in with your account so that I can reply to you. I find it a real shame that I can't express my thanks for your encouraging words.

Chapter 2 – A Revelation of Flames

As popularised within the household, the new norms I'd set became known as the Anti-Violence Clause and the Sleeping Schedule. With these in place, the next week proceeded with a tranquillity set to outrival the idyllic days at Maison Izumo. Intent on pleasing me, my Sekirei had toned down their petty squabbles, redirecting their energies into planning how they'd spend their time with me. It was still a way from true harmony, but I was proud that we'd gotten this far without resorting to Miya's intimidation tactics.

Nevertheless, friction between wives inevitably arose as the night arrived for each of them to receive their turn. Reactions from fellow wives varied: there were encouraging cheers (Musubi), wistful gazes (Kusano), envious glares (Tsukiumi), perverted suggestions (Matsu), which were followed by indignant protests (Tsukiumi again), delighted swoons (Kazehana), and put-upon frowns (Kagari). To my dismay, the morning after often saw them huddled together in conspiratorial gossip about me. I had never managed to catch their animated whispers, but if the glances in my direction were any indication, they were commenting about my previous night's performance.

Like their reactions, my Sekirei's choices of nightly activities varied, spanning the gamut of perfectly innocuous to outright salacious:

Replaying a scene from our early days, Musubi had presented herself in a French maid costume and offered to be my willing servant girl for Monday night. I suspected Kazehana's hand in the matter; although she'd experienced a fair number of sexual situations, Musubi still didn't grasp the full implications of this arrangement. It was a struggle not to give in to my baser impulses and command that Musubi carry out certain… longstanding fantasies. That said, I succeeded, guiding my first Sekirei into a sweet and tender exchange.

Kusano and I had yet to deviate from the boundaries of our sibling relationship, so we'd simply set up camp in the backyard to do a little stargazing on Tuesday night. She'd brought out her telescope, a gift I'd provided her for this very purpose. Picking out pinpricks in the sky proved tricky with the city's light pollution, but we'd maintained our enthusiasm, even going as far to invent constellations of our own (there were a couple of contorted shapes we'd laughingly dubbed 'Onii-chan and Kuu-chan').

On Wednesday night, Matsu had stolen me into her room, changed into her infamous travesty of a lab coat and strapped me to an examination chair (where the hell did she manage to procure one?). She'd then subjected me to various… stimuli, using her wide assortment of questionable devices in addition to her own body. It was far from an unpleasant experience, but I couldn't help but feel a little disturbed, as though I was a mouse under the overeager scrutiny of a mad scientist.

Tsukiumi had requested for a private audience with me on Thursday night (the others had obliged, vanishing into their rooms). She'd dressed up in a floor-length evening gown, her lips painted red and her hair meticulously twisted and pinned. I couldn't take my eyes off her the whole time; she was so beautiful. Our night was spent dancing to slow music and conversing over candlelit supper, after which I took the Water Sekirei to bed and reminded her – in very explicit terms – how glad I was to be her husband.

Of my Sekirei, Kazehana had opted for the most straightforward approach. Having no room of her own, she'd taken the liberty of scattering rose petals across my bed while I was at work on Friday. We'd ended up closeted in my room for the entire night. Clad in a shimmering mini-dress that left nothing to the imagination, the Wind Sekirei had proceeded to enact multiple scenarios from the book she'd gifted me. Suffice it to say that I was very pleasurably occupied, if sore from overexertion the next morning.

Tonight was Saturday night, which meant it was Kagari's turn to be with me.

Unlike the others, the Fire Sekirei had shown no sign that he was looking forward to our upcoming encounter. If anything, the opposite was true – he'd grown increasingly taciturn as the week went on, limiting our exchanges to brief, terse phrases. It seemed that he'd taken to watching me instead – I would constantly feel his gaze on my back, though whenever I'd turned in his direction, he was always looking elsewhere.

Kagari was apprehensive, that much I knew. This encounter – this forced intimacy – would change our dynamic, forcing us out of our comfortable, ensconced roles as casual male companions and into what, I couldn't say. I'd voiced my desire for a stronger rapport with him, and while he hadn't objected to this proposal, he had yet to express what he himself wanted out of our relationship. Insofar as I could tell, he was quietly gauging me, seeing what move I would make next.

Afraid to misstep, I'd remained passive.

Unfortunately, there was no longer any room to postpone decisive action. The appointed time of our nightly 'date' had arrived.

Earlier, prior to dinner, the Fire Sekirei had informed me that he hadn't planned any activities and that I was to meet him in his room shortly before bedtime (this, I suspected, was to minimise the length of our interaction). The others, sensing the tension between us, had tactfully refrained from making comments about our lacklustre arrangements. The rest of the evening had proceeded as normal, with my flock gathering in the living room to watch TV before retiring for the night.

Afterwards, Kusano had drawn me aside.

"Kagari-chan is waiting for you," she'd said, her eyes aglow with wisdom beyond her years. "He's been waiting for you for a long time. Don't be afraid to reach out to him. He'll meet you halfway."

And this was how I found myself in front of Kagari's door at half-past ten, a rolled futon under one arm and a pillow in the other. The smooth, unadorned panel of wood had never presented so great an obstacle until now.

Taking a deep breath, I rapped thrice on the polished white surface.

"Kagari," I started, hesitating, "it's me, Minato. Are you in?"

"Yes," replied the soft, husky contralto I associated with my sixth and final Sekirei. "One moment…"

There was the dull thud of approaching footsteps, followed by the creak of swinging hinges. Silhouetted by the backdrop of room light, my companion for the night appeared before me, arms crossed in his customary pose.

The first thing I noticed was that Kagari's choice of nightwear included a pair of plain blue satin pyjamas. Save the occasions where I tended to his injuries, I had never before seen him in such a state of… undress. It made him look more approachable – more human – and less like the Kagari who'd always maintained his distance from everyone.

The second thing I noticed was the fact that he'd left the uppermost two buttons of his pyjamas top undone. While nothing new – Kagari had taken to wearing his old shirts that way – this exposed enough for me to spot the sparkle of jewellery underneath. It looked like a silver chain, weighed down by something (a pendant, perhaps?) that descended into his – dare I say it – cleavage.

Don't look there, you pervert, I chastised myself. This action struck me as ironic, given that four-sevenths of the house's occupants habitually thrust their cleavage into my face.

The third thing I noticed contradicted the conclusion I'd drawn from the first: Kagari was still standing in the doorway, having made no motion to invite me into his room.

I coughed into my palm. "So."

"So," he echoed.

"Um…"

A moment of silence passed. Cicadas chirped in the background.

When he continued staring at me, motionless, I realised it was up to me to break the ice. "Don't you think it's silly that we're so awkward around each other?" I quipped. "I mean, it's what, five years that we've been living under the same roof?"

"You raise a valid point," he agreed.

"Are you kidding me?" I burst out, gesticulating with my pillow. "It's ridiculous."

At this, the tension that had been building between us throughout the week snapped. Kagari started sniggering, and I couldn't help but join in. My laughter spurred him to laugh harder, which exacerbated my laughter in turn – on and on it went. This escalated until we doubled over in uncontrollable spasms of mirth, clutching at our bellies. It took several minutes before we wound down enough to regain some semblance of composure.

"Geez, I haven't laughed that hard in ages," I admitted, rubbing at my sore cheeks.

"Nor have I," Kagari concurred, his lips still twitching. Realising he'd left me waiting in the corridor, he quickly moved aside, holding the door wide. "I seem to have forgotten my manners. Come on in." He made a sweeping flourish of welcome.

Accepting his invitation, I stepped over the threshold into his room, futon and pillow in tow. Once inside, I paused for a moment, surveying my surroundings.

Though larger than mine, Kagari's room had little in the way of decoration. His style could best be described as 'minimalistic'. The whitewashed walls were bare, his desk housed a lone pen basket with a few pieces of stationery, and his phone and laptop lay closed on the bedside table. Save the numerous books stacked on the shelves, Kagari had not bothered beyond the bare essentials.

"I see your tastes in décor hasn't changed," I remarked lightly, comparing the likeness of this room to the one he'd had back at Maison Izumo.

"I am a person of simple means," he returned in the same light manner, closing the door before walking over to his desk and leaning against it.

Setting my futon and pillow down against the wall, I proceeded to drift towards the closest shelf. "Yeah, you don't seem to have much else but books." My hand stretched out of its own accord, almost touching a nearby volume before I realised what I was doing. I shot him a glance, seeking permission. "Do you mind if I–?"

"Go right ahead."

I plucked The Legend of Prometheus: A Gift of Fire from its shelf and examined the cover. Before I could register this eclectic choice of reading material, it occurred to me that the book had probably been dropped in a fire at some point.

"It's charred?" I wondered aloud, running a finger along the blackened edges. My nostrils twitched; the book emitted a very faint odour of smoke. "Did you accidentally burn it?"

"A while ago. It's ironic, isn't it?"

I rose onto the balls of my feet, inspecting the books across the shelf. Many of them bore similar burn marks. "By ironic, you mean that you're a Fire Sekirei around highly flammable objects?" I surmised, falling back onto my heels.

"I had to be careful when my powers were still unstable," he explained. "Thanks to you, I can have as many books as I want, among other things." Wistfulness was prominent in his voice.

I nodded; he was referring to the fact that I'd stabilised his powers by winging him. "Ah, you're welcome, Kagari. I imagine it must be problematic to spontaneously set your surroundings on fire." I placed The Legend of Prometheus back in its original location.

"That," he replied in a tone as dry as tinder, "is an understatement."

"I see." I sensed the conversation had taken a sudden turn for the sombre. "Is that why you described yourself–"

"–as a defective Sekirei?" he finished for me.

"Y-Yeah," I stuttered, taken aback by his harsh description of himself. "Though I wouldn't use the word 'defective'–"

"That's what I was, Sahashi," he overrode me matter-of-factly.

I let out a soft breath, my heart filling with pity for him. "Did you have to grow up being labelled as that word?"

"Yes," he confirmed, shutting his eyes. "Frankly, I didn't have much of a childhood."

My heart clenched tighter even as I wondered what he must have undergone to make such a sad statement. My other Sekirei's recounts of their pasts had one thing in common: they'd lived together with a tuner prior to release. As alien beings, Sekirei needed human mentors to aid their integration into human society. This close relationship usually resulted in tuner and Sekirei growing fond of each other – with Tsukiumi being an exception.

Perhaps Kagari, like Tsukiumi, had the misfortune of a heavy-handed tuner?

"I'm sorry to hear that."

He dismissed my apology with a wave of his hand. "It's in the past now."

With effort, I suppressed the urge to frown at his display of nonchalance. Clearly, Kagari associated his past with many painful things. While I was not inclined towards nosiness, I understood that bottling things up like this was far from healthy.

I decided to broach the subject with him.

"W-Would you like to share?" I tried for a tentative tone. "If you don't mind, that is."

Kagari cast me a sidewards glance, obviously hesitant.

"I just find that it helps to talk things out," I continued, "even if they weren't the most pleasant. Of course, if you think I'm prying into things I shouldn't," I backpedalled, providing him with a route of escape, "you–"

"I haven't discussed my past with anyone," Kagari interrupted.

I blinked; I'd wrong-footed him. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have–"

"But I can make an exception for you."

I blinked again. "Oh."

That was twice I'd wrong-footed him now – within the span of twenty seconds. Déjà vu rang with the clarity of bells in my head: I had made the same mistake in our conversation a week ago, after the proposal of the Schedule. Way to set a precedent, Minato.

Sensing my exasperation, Kagari offered me a faint smile in apology. "You're trying your best to understand me, Sahashi. I appreciate that."

"Yes, I do want to understand you," I parroted, my desperation mounting as I realised I didn't understand him at all. "Your feelings, your past," I emphasised the word, grounding myself with the subject at hand, "they all matter to me."

He nodded. "This might take a while. Why don't you lay down your futon and get comfortable?"

"Ah, okay."

Retrieving my futon from the wall, I proceeded to roll it out on the ground. Meanwhile, Kagari relocated himself, moving from his desk to sit down on his already prepared futon. He was now staring at the ceiling, plotting out what he was going to say. With legs folded, a pillow in his lap, and a twirl of hair around a finger, his position struck me as oddly feminine – a departure from his usual slouch with elbow braced against propped-up knee. Now that I thought on it, he had not sat in the latter manner for quite some time.

I made the final adjustments to my coverlet and settled atop them, motioning for Kagari to begin. He took my cue, speaking in a quiet, neutral voice:

"I was a prototype Sekirei, one intended for experimental purposes. While I was still in incubation, many modifications were made to my genetic code. This resulted in my unstable sex.

"My body constantly switched back and forth between male and female. These transformations lasted for a week at a time, and occurred every month. Because of the pain and hormonal imbalances involved, I'd become very withdrawn and hostile."

"Wow, that's nasty," I couldn't help but comment, imagining a snarling and haymaking Kagari. It was an incongruous picture – the complete opposite of the cool and composed Sekirei I knew. "And here I was thinking women's... monthlies were bad enough."

"Believe me, some women's monthlies are bad," he said dryly.

"Uh," I sweat-dropped, "that's one topic I'd rather not delve into. Go on?"

"Right. They, the MBI scientists, called me a –" his voice wavered almost imperceptibly over the words, "– 'defective product'. Since I was too emotionally unstable to live together with a tuner, I stayed in a cell within MBI headquart–"

"Wait, you lived in a cell? Like a prisoner?" I cried, outraged. My other Sekirei had mentioned being housed within cells, but only during long medical examinations in which they were anaesthetised. This sounded like a permanent arrangement.

He smiled sardonically. "I suppose you could call me their prisoner – I was their lab rat, after all. But I didn't live poorly. My cell was regularly cleaned, and the furnishings were satisfactory: I had a bed, an enclosed restroom, a desk, and even a wardrobe. Their food was a little on the bland side, but I'd never had to go hungry. Not to mention I had access to the gym and training facilities – though visits were limited to my exercise regime."

I shook my head; trust Kagari to downplay the severity of his living conditions. "What about how you were treated?"

"I was monitored at all times," he replied in a monotone. "Many scientists saw me as nothing more than a test subject. They weren't abusive or ungentle towards me, just clinical. When I wasn't running tests, attending lessons or exercising, I was usually left to my own devices." His voice changed, taking on a warmer lilt. "Still, there were kind people – Takami-san in particular – who treated me like a person. They took me outside, and gave me treats and books."

My mother, Takami, a kind person? I thought incredulously. Perhaps Kagari was speaking of her 'kindness' relative to other MBI scientists, but it wouldn't surprise me if my mother treated the Sekirei under her care more like her 'children' than her own offspring.

"And how often did my mother and these other kind people visit you?" I couldn't keep the accusatory edge out of my voice.

This caused him to raise an eyebrow at me. "Maybe once a week?"

Even at a single visit a week, Kagari had spent six-sevenths of his waking hours in effective solitude. "Weren't you lonely?" I inquired softly.

His eyebrows climbed still higher at my mood whiplash, but he replied in a matter-of-fact tone, "I grew accustomed to my own company. Reading books and solving puzzles occupied most of my time. But every so often," here, his voice quietened, as though he was revealing something of a secretive nature, "I would sneak into the incubation chamber and watch my still-sleeping fellow Sekirei."

His use of the word 'sneak' could only mean one thing. "I'm guessing the incubation chamber was off-limits?"

He nodded. "Restricted personnel. Most Sekirei hadn't been activated yet; they were still undergoing adjustments. Any meddling – accidental or otherwise – could have unwanted results."

"How did you manage to gain access?"

"At the time, the incubation chamber reused entry mechanisms salvaged from the ruins. The doors activated in proximity to those with Sekirei characteristics. I could enter and exit freely."

"But didn't they have you on surveillance?" I pointed out, frowning. "Even if you could enter and exit freely, they must have known that you were sneaking in there."

There was that sardonic smile again. "They knew. In punishment, they confiscated my books for a week at a time."

"But you kept going back, didn't you?" It was a rhetorical question; I already knew that Kagari would provide a reply in the affirmative. "Why?" What was it about visiting his fellow Sekirei – who were incapable of responding to him – that made the trip worth the loss of his precious books?

Kagari answered in a low, intense voice that spoke of suppressed emotion. "The other Sekirei may have been floating balls of cells then, but I felt connected to them. They were my brothers and sisters. We were family."

It became clear to me then. Kagari had lived in a cold, antiseptic world filled with tests, medical instruments and the emotionless gazes of scientists. Any respite from this would be more than welcome – it was crucial to maintaining his sanity. Books and puzzles could distract his mind for only so long. He'd needed the warmth of genuine company, warmth that could only be afforded by others.

Indeed, there were a few kind scientists who did nice things for him. However, their charity was just that – charity. Ultimately, whatever love and attention they'd offered him could not bridge the divide between them: that they were his overseers, and he, their pet project. The only true comfort Kagari could draw was from his family, even inanimate as they were. Standing amongst his fellow Sekirei, he could feel that he belonged.

This would explain why he was so devoted to his role as Sekirei Guardian later on. He'd wanted to protect his family, for they had formed the cornerstone of his motivations and inner strength. In that respect, he and I were alike.

"I visited so often that it perplexed the MBI workers," Kagari went on, bringing my musings to a close. "Eventually they realised I would do nothing but watch. One of the higher-ups –Takami-san, I believe – must have pulled a few strings, for I was allowed visits thereafter."

My mother cared enough for him to get that one right, at least. "I'm glad she could do that for you," I said sincerely.

He nodded and continued, his voice taking on a new, raw edge – pain. "In any case, things went downhill when I started manifesting my powers. I was young and new to my ability; I'd set things ablaze by accident. These mishaps compounded during my transformations, reaching a peak with the onset of puberty. In my rage, I set fire to my surroundings. There were–" his shoulders tensed, and his next word came out in a ragged whisper, "–casualties."

In my mind's eye, I saw the labs awash in fire, the ominous silhouette of an out-of-control Kagari stalking through the flames. Everywhere, there was the blare of evacuation sirens, the spray of activated sprinklers, and the screams of frightened people. Smoke and the acrid smell of burnt plastic filled the air, charred bodies littered the ground, and paramedics and firefighters were rushing frantically about the scene.

It was a mental picture I did not care to revisit.

"That's... horrifying."

Kagari was unable to look at me. His head hung low, his fringe falling forward to obscure his eyes. Shame and remorse emanated from him in dark, smothering tendrils.

"I'd felt sick afterwards," he admitted in a small, shaky voice. "I'd never liked the scientists, but they were defenceless. I'd never wanted their blood on my hands."

"But you didn't mean to do it!" I pleaded on his behalf. If there was one thing I did understand about Kagari, it was that he would take all the blame upon himself. "It was an accident, wasn't it?"

"Accidents," he gritted out, emphasising the plural on the last syllable.

"Wasn't MBI responsible for preventing things like these?" I persisted, determined to find Kagari's innocence – what little there was – in the matter. "Like adjust you to bring your powers under control?"

"Their adjustments failed." Kagari's eyes were screwed shut, and his voice was bitter. "At the time, their knowledge of Sekirei functions was too limited. But some good – if you can call it that – came out of it."

"And what was that?"

His tone grew more bitter, if that was possible. "My powers became unstable. If I exerted myself, my flames would turn inward, burning me from the inside out."

"How could that be a good thing?" I exclaimed, bewildered.

Kagari turned to face me, his eyes like glowing coals. "Self-preservation is a powerful instinct," he replied, his words laden with irony. "I didn't want to burn myself to death, so I learned to control my emotions. My outbursts stopped, as did the accidents."

He let out a bark of a laugh – it was harsh and mirthless, making my heart seize up in mirrored agony. "Even so, I was more defective than ever. Have you heard of the saying that 'those of fire are hated by the gods'?"

I nodded; I had a bad feeling of where this was going.

Kagari stretched out his hand, and a small flame sprang into existence within his upturned palm. "This fire," he intoned, staring into the flickering orange light, "was my curse. It was the cause of my solitude, for it scorched anyone who got too close. Even me."

His hand clenched into a fist, extinguishing the flame. "My fire was the reason they took away everything. They took away my privilege to visit my fellow Sekirei. They took away my books and puzzles – I'd have burned them to ashes, anyway. They took away even the ownership of myself," his voice rose in anger, "keeping me drugged to the point that I couldn't walk straight."

Sighing, he set his shaking fist down, and I felt the energy drain out of him. "And still they couldn't adjust me properly. I was too dangerous, too uncontrollable. If it weren't for Asama Takehito, I would've been scrapped." I should've been scrapped, were his unspoken words.

"By scrapped," I breathed, "you mean–"

"Terminated. Disposed of."

The harsh words rattled me down to my very core. Unwilling to contemplate the possibility of a world where they had actually taken place – a world without Kagari – I blurted out my next sentence:

"B-But Takehito – Miya's husband – saved you!"

My agitation seemed to have a calming effect on the Fire Sekirei. "Yes," Kagari confirmed, resuming a neutral tone, "Takehito took me under personal custody, seeking to fix my defects. He managed to stabilise my sex to a degree: my transformations subsided, and I remained male for the most part. He also lessened my power output, but I would still self-immolate if I drew on too much.

"In many ways," Kagari placed a hand over his heart, his voice now wistful, "I am grateful to him. Although the fixes were incomplete, they were much better than I'd anticipated. I would be released. I could continue living, even starting anew.

"But I had only as much time as the first phase of the Sekirei Plan. The true solution lay in finding my Ashikabi. Winging would stabilise my sex and powers for once and for all. Only..." he trailed off.

"Only?" I prompted.

"I was told that my Ashikabi might not exist. Indeed, I searched for years in vain." His words were strained, belying a hint of the frustration he must have endured. "I had come across many people, but not one sparked off the slightest reaction."

"Until you met me," I supplied, following the subject matter to its obvious conclusion.

"Yes. By then, I had lost all hope that I would ever meet my destined one. You were," he turned to look at me, his wine-red eyes alit with emotion, "an impossibility. A miracle. I found that– I found you difficult to accept at first."

His gaze was so intense that I found myself looking away, fingers automatically scratching at the back of my head. "We didn't have the best of starts, did we?" I posited, giving a nervous chuckle.

Kagari nodded. "The issue of us both being male aside," something told me that he had plenty to say on that subject, but wasn't ready to discuss it yet, "I had built my life around being alone. That's why I became the Sekirei Guardian.

"As the Guardian," his voice lost all characteristic coolness and took on an impassioned quality, "I could protect my family. I could ensure that my siblings met their Ashikabi – to have what I could not have. I could kill Minaka!" His fist clenched in his lap; even now, with the former CEO of MBI being dead for four years, Kagari still hated him. "This would've prevented that goddamn Plan from coming to fruition. Even if I died in the process, it would be enough. It would mean that my life had purpose!"

He caught my gaze again, his eyes ablaze with the same intensity as before. This time, I couldn't bring myself to look away.

"Your arrival upended all that. Before you, I had resigned myself to a life of sacrifice. You made me realise there was meaning beyond that. You gave me hope.

"I didn't dare admit it at the time, but I longed for a future. A future in which I would be freed from my curse. A future in which I needn't fear my powers betraying me, leaving me to die in my flames."

With blazing vividness, the memory of Kagari's winging came back to me. My other Sekirei and I had found him atop an MBI building, engulfed in flames. He was at the point of literal meltdown, cremating himself before my very eyes. I remembered the searing heat of the fire, the pain and wretchedness in Kagari's expression–

"But your powers did betray you!" I pointed out, not without regret. "Even I couldn't prevent that! If we hadn't arrived in time, your flames would've overtaken you! You would –" I choked, forcing out the words, "You would've died."

"Not through any fault of yours," he refuted me gently. Lowering his eyes, he continued in a voice quiet with self-recrimination, "I was stubborn and ignorant. I didn't believe I deserved hope, or that I was worthy of happiness. I'd assumed that winging myself to you – or anyone, for that matter – would mean becoming a mere possession, and I couldn't bear that."

He shook his head. "Of course, I now know the truth. When you reached out to me through the flames, you showed that you weren't afraid. Not of my fire, nor of my curse. You wanted me by your side, even knowing I was defective." His eyes met mine once more, and I saw warmth glimmering in their wine-red depths. "That convinced me you were the one – my Ashikabi."

His earnest words shot straight to my heart, squeezing it tight and causing a blush to rise on my cheeks. In an attempt to stave off my discomfort, I slapped on a grin and wisecracked, "I guess it takes life-threatening acts of insanity to win your heart, huh?"

Kagari's answering smile was tinged with melancholy. "I guess it does."

Turning sombre again, I proclaimed, "I would do it again in a heartbeat, you know."

"I know." The Fire Sekirei smiled again, this time in gratitude. "Your compassion did far more than save my life. This curse of fire," he looked into his empty palm, indicating the flame he'd held only moments ago, "I had lived under its burden for so long. You washed it away. You healed me."

I returned his smile. "I'm glad I was able to do that for you." Feeling that words alone could not convey the depth of my sincerity, I reached out and clasped his hand. It was smaller than mine, fine-boned and delicate – feminine. Somewhere in the hazy recesses of my mind, the fact registered that Kagari's hand fitted nicely against my own. "It's hard to imagine how my life would've went if we hadn't met, Kagari."

He looked down at our joined hands, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. "I'm touched that you hold me in such high esteem."

"I do," I asserted, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "I greatly respect you as a man. After hearing about your past, all the suffering you had to go through... It seems like a tiny consolation," I harked back to our conversation earlier, "being able to have as many books as you want."

He followed my train of thought, repeating his words from before, "Among other things?"

"Yeah. You deserve so much more."

"Perhaps," he granted, closing his eyes. Only then did he remove his hand from mine, his fingers trailing in a way that could almost be construed as 'lingering'. "I've been very talkative tonight."

I frowned; the last thing I wanted was for Kagari to retreat back into himself after he'd finally opened up. "You make that sound like it's a bad thing," I berated him. "It isn't." When this earned a raised eyebrow, I continued, injecting as much sincerity into my words as I could muster, "I enjoyed listening to you. It wasn't the happiest story, but it was a part of your life. Thank you for sharing that with me, Kagari."

His expression had turned contemplative during my speech, but when he spoke, it was in his normal cool tones. "You're welcome, Sahashi. Now," there was an odd quirk to his mouth, "I believe it's your turn."

"M-My turn?" I couldn't help but stutter, failing to see this turnabout of conversation.

"After surrendering the details of my dark and troubled past," he said dryly, palms upturned in a shrug, "how could I not ask for yours in return?"

"But I don't have a dark and troubled past," I replied automatically, "unless you count–" Halting just before I said something incriminatory about my grandmother, I began backing away, alarmed. "So t-t-this is what it is?" I spluttered. "T-Trading blackmail material?"

The Fire Sekirei took one glance at my distressed expression and burst into laughter. "Silly Ashikabi," he mock-scolded, his voice brimming with fondness. "I'm curious about you too."

"I-Is that so?" I maintained a dubious face.

He looked at me with soft, sincere eyes. "You're not the only one who wishes to rebuild this friendship, Sahashi Minato."

That gaze was making me feel uncomfortable again – but not in a bad way, I decided. "Well, if you put it like that, I guess I can't refuse," I conceded with a sheepish grin. "Compared to yours, my life was much less exciting..."

The rest of the night passed in easy, if rather embarrassing conversation. I talked about my life growing up in Wakayama, getting lost in the woods with Yukari, having a mother who was more concerned with work than her children, being driven around like a dog by my formidable grandmother, and developing a meek and indecisive personality due to lack of a male role model combined with the aforementioned female influences.

Kagari was an attentive and respectful listener. To my relief, he never belittled me about my weak character, simply saying that I had grown up since then. He would always prompt me with the right questions, be it to elaborate further or extract me from a loop I'd somehow talked myself into. It was as though he was cataloguing every detail of my childhood, laying them side-by-side beside his own. Perhaps he was vicariously living through my experience, snatching glimpses of happiness and normalcy he could not find in his bleak past.

Eventually, we grew too tired to continue our conversation. Kagari turned off the light, and after biding each other a warm goodnight, we snuggled into our futons.

I stayed awake for a while longer, pondering our exchange. In the same fashion that I had granted him acceptance, I was thankful for his. The destructive nature of Kagari's powers had given him cause for grief, just as my wishy-washiness had been a point of vexation for me. Of course, my 'normal problems' and the 'normal consequences' they brought could scarcely compare to his ordeal, but it was nevertheless heartening to empathise with him, however small the extent.

The fact that we'd revealed our pasts to each other was significant – it represented a breakthrough in our relationship. I cared deeply for the Fire Sekirei, and I knew he was protective of me. But up until our last conversation, we were just housemates whose interactions rarely ventured beyond the superficial. While it was long overdue, we had finally taken our first step towards deepening our bond, and I couldn't help but be glad for that.

With the fervent wish that Kagari and I could continue walking this path together – to become still closer friends – I closed my eyes one final time, drifting into slumber.

When I woke the next morning, Kagari wasn't around.

The window was open, letting in the pink dawn light as well as a gentle breeze. Having already been packed up, his futon now lay in the corner. There wasn't any discarded clothing, or a relocated book, or even a drawer that had been opened and then left partially closed. Indeed, the only indication that we'd spent the night together was the coverlet pulled up to my shoulders; I had a habit of tousling them in my sleep.

I had never imagined that Kagari would do something so… tender for me. It kindled a warm sensation in my chest, not unlike the glow of a gentle flame.

Maybe this friendship thing was going to work after all.