Chapter 11: Birds of a Feather and Flame
Satan will never find fire to not be useful. Even if it isn't his.
"Look, Yukio, watch."
Match struck, Satan lite the paper on fire. For a few seconds he held it and watched the flames blacken the paper, eating away the white with licks of red. It wasn't blue like he'd have preferred, but it'd do its job and, in a few seconds, the paper was ash on the wind.
"And like that it's gone. All of the bad things they said, all of their efforts to get to you are gone in a couple of seconds. See, they aren't that big of a deal. Now you do it!"
"Ah, but fire is..." Bad, scary, painful, was everything Yukio had been taught.
"It won't hurt you if you don't let it. Look." Satan took Yukio's hand and, together, they made the motion of striking the match. Yukio flinched at the tiny hissing sound as the flame sputtered to life, spitting like a snake. But the demon holding his hand refused to let the boy let go of the flickering flame. "Look. You're the one who brought it into existence. And, if it ever gets out of control or disobeys you…"
Two fingers suddenly pinched the fire from existence.
"Gone. Sadly, people aren't so easy to deal with," Not unless an opportunity came up, at least, "…But it's the same principle. If someone gets in your way, you just have to be bigger and stronger and they won't stand a chance."
Yukio felt unsure- shaken actually. His big brother always seemed to know exactly what he was talking about, always knew all those big words adults liked to use, and was so sure and confident about everything, so unlike himself. Yet the words caused something uneasy curl in his gut, restless, and made the boy shift from the heavy feeling. He felt like there was someone that wasn't being said, something…weird. The air felt tight in his throat, and he wanted to throw his brother off his back, free himself from the sheer presence Rin suddenly seemed to have. But he was weak, he couldn't find the strength.
"Rin…"
The weight was gone and tension evaporated when another match was waved between his eyes, bumping Yukio's glasses lightly. He flinched back in surprise and looked up to see an impatient Rin, who kicked a stack of papers and old notebooks, "Come on, this time you have to do it yourself. I want to see those shitty notes burn already!"
"Rin, you shouldn't swear! Dad will get mad!" And then there'd be fighting and yelling and…And maybe Yukio was weird, because he didn't care when Rin shouting himself hoarse at the other kids, but it bothered him when his twin and father fought. With anyone else, it didn't matter, but…
"Too fucking bad! I don't care what that shitty old man thinks! I'll say whatever I damn well please!" Satan proudly declared, sprinkling in extra swears for effect. Honestly he was doing the shitty priest a favor! If he was so bothered by a few generic words, then he needed a thicker skin! But not too thick; it was great stress relief to tear the Paladin down.
Yukio fidgeted, words coming out almost silent, "But…but I don't really like it when…"
"When…?"
"Never mind…"
Satan mentally filed away the strange reaction to pull apart and figure out later. "Oh ok. Well come on!"
Yukio fumbled enough matches that eventually Satan sighed and took the box. With practiced ease, he lite the match and handed it to Yukio. The boy panicked for a moment at suddenly holding dangerous fire between his fingertips, but calmed down quickly. Unnaturally quick, in fact, and the demon lightly cuffed Yukio over the head when he realized the young boy was staring a bit too intensely at the match. He dropped the match, but Satan didn't really care.
"Don't do that. If you overthink it, you'll just get burned." And blue haze was a bitch to recover from, both mentally and rebuilding everything that'd been burned down.
The second strike Satan made was practically synced with the back door opening. The moment froze, suspended as Shiro, unknowingly, stared down the ruler of Gehenna with nothing more than a sigh and a quick prayer for strength.
"Rin. Please tell me you aren't about to-"
Expressionless, Satan dropped the fire and the papers at his feet turned into a ball of flames. Shiro didn't even react except to remove his glasses for a second and attempt to ward off a headache. "I can't believe you're a pyromaniac…" Except the Paladin very well could, and it frightened him that it'd simply become an aspect of one of his children.
"I'm not a pyromaniac."
"Of course you aren't" Shiro deadpanned and turned back inside to find one of the many fire extinguishers he'd started nearly obsessively hoarding.
He really, really, really, should have taken Rin to a psychologist a long time ago. Except he wasn't quite sure he wanted someone to take an in-depth look into Rin's psyche, not when he wasn't sure how well things like therapy and, lord almighty forbid, drugs, would interact with his not-quite-human mind and body.
Against his better judgement, he'd voiced a few of his concerns for Mephisto only to be laughed at and have his worries waved away. Because almost all of Rin's violent, possessive, and outright defiant behavior was completely normal for a "healthy, growing, demon looking to prove himself and claim territory".
Shiro very nearly strangled the man.
There was no magical answer to his problems, nothing that would solve the gap between himself and Rin. Mephisto was useless, blaming Shiro for doing something wrong because, by all rights, he should have been claimed as Rin's 'territory' just as Yukio had been. It was apparently all very unusual, Rin, as young as he was, seeing Shiro more as competition for Yukio's affection that a father figure, or, at the very least, a caretaker. So since it was all surely Shiro's fault, he'd better figure out how to fix it and make nice with Rin.
Mephisto had enough tact to not outright say it, but the Paladin knew what he'd hinted at.
It was a disaster in the making.