Her lips sting.
Ban's eyes are a brilliant blue, even through the haze of smoke between them. You're crazy, he says, and he won't stop looking at her.
No, Himiko thinks: no, some things are worth a little pain. Some things are even worth dying for. She would die if it meant an end to Midou Ban, but she isn't: a child, foolish, crazy--she knows what she is doing.
The inside of her mouth is raw.
Her throat burns.
It hurts to breathe, but she has been waiting for this moment for too long now--so very long, and the fire spitting from between blistered lips is nothing to the hot rage that has burned within her since Ban stole everything from her.
She curls her lips around of plume of flame.
She spends hours watching him. She cups her chin in her palm, and gnaws at the tips of her fingers. Yamato's fingers are long, and his knuckles heavy. His movements are slow, but certain. Himiko likes watching her brother work.
Yamato does not look at her. Yamato often says: you must learn caution to balance your confidence, Himiko. Yamato is bottling fire: a pretty pale gold liquid to burn their enemies to ash from the inside out. Himiko will choke on her horror and her disgust the first time she sets a man on fire, but that time is still far away. Now, she smiles as Yamato works.
Himiko coughs up smoke.
The ground at Ban's feet is singed. He is not. His hands are curled into his pockets, and his shoulders are rolled forwards. Don't be a fool, he says, as if he cares--as if he has any right to care.
Himiko thinks: you are the fool, if you think I will be satisfied with anything less than your body burning at my feet.
She hates him.
She snarls, and presses the bottle to her lips.
Yamato would say that Himiko is too reckless, if he were here, now. Yamato is dead. Kudou Himiko is no fool, no child, but she is alone--always, always, and she has grown dangerous while dreaming of Midou Ban's death.
She will see him burn.
Her lips part.
Fire burns the night sky. Burns bright, and hot, and beautiful--it fills the air, and Himiko's mouth, and lungs, and burns beneath her skin. She can't breathe. Curls the vial of potion between her fingers, and searches for Ban.
His fingers are dry and cool against the back of her neck.
An exhausted stream of smoke slips through her lips.
Written for fanfic100 (prompt: "fire").
Sign up to rate and review this story