Archive of Our Own

WILDFIRES

Cinders fall.

Kokichi looks to the sky, smoldering red and black from spiraling ashy tornados. Grassy roots aflame burn his backside as does the soot hurt his eyes. 

Each breath hurts, like a dip in molten lava.

“Fall asleep, Kokichi.” He remembers. “Your sorrows will burn away like a wildfire.”

BLIZZARDS

Snowflakes fall.

Shuichi looks to the sky, a pale blue shade peeking through a rapid snowstorm spiraling around him like dancing ballerinas. His head bows, and with it the snow builds at his feet.

Each breath hurts, like icy tendrils are strangling his lungs.

“Fall asleep, Shuichi.” He remembers. “Your sorrows will turn to dust like snow in the summer.”

Blizzards and wildfires. Two opposing forces of nature, from two different climates and seasons. They could not touch, for their powers combined would bring destruction. They could not see each other, for their eyes were too blind to see past the flames and snow.

Shuichi and Kokichi only existed as two spirits in an unyielding world of seasons.

Kokichi tapped upon the ground of an old warehouse. He was in the concrete section, where the wood could not burst in the flames. Any explosives were moved, by the work of Shuichi Saihara, because Kokichi would otherwise kill this entire town of unsuspecting civilians who could not see any part of him but the destruction he brought.

Shuichi responded the same, tapping his name upon the wood that he surrounded. Snow built around his feet, wind whipping his hair from side to side like a fan blew at his face, akin to one of those old Hollywood movies. The message was clear; he lamented not being close to Kokichi nor seeing him amidst the dense fog blurring his vision, but he was glad to sit with him.

“Thank you,” he spoke for the first time. “For meeting me today.”

Kokichi’s flames grew, burning his soles, but that was only from excitement; a natural response—like tossing water on a grease fire. “This is stupid.”

The other man’s head lowered shamefully. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“What had you wanted?” Kokichi muttered, distaste making his tongue heavy. The fire grew again, but now it was from dissatisfaction. As always, like before, Shuichi found a way to be a coward and bow down at the indication of adversity. “You couldn’t have only called me out here to sit. I can barely hear you.”

“You’re smart. You haven’t changed.” 

Shuichi had. He was now a liar. Biting his tongue, Kokichi elaborated, “You’ve always been smart. You wouldn’t call me here for no reason.”

Frowning to himself, Shuichi called out towards the fire, “You are correct. I want to fix this.”

To fix the unfixable was an impossible, naive task. Like always, Shuichi had a way of thinking too ambitiously. Just like Kokichi had before.

Humans lived short lives.

Angie Yonaga fluttered upon the clouds, her smile burning as she gazed down to the mortal world. Her wings grew and she dove towards the nearest province of Japan, for it was where she had heard the whispers of ancient evils lurking in the modern streets. 

Evils must be expunged. Her scepter rose as she aimed high at a flying tengu, magical bursts of yellow energy killing the creature. It froze stiff like a statue, then fell to the ocean. 

Its face stared at her amongst a torrent of blue waves, crashing against the distant shores of Japan. Above the clouds, adorned in a flowing yellow cape, she saw it all; bestowed with the power of the gods, by the gods, she only had one mission.

Kill any anomalies.

Twirling her scepter like a baton, her feet tap-danced on each cloud as her tiny feet made indents in the floating conglomerations of stored water. Her scepter dragged and separated, and she hit it with the top end of her staff repeatedly until the cloud dissipated and her toes were slightly soaked. She repeated this as she hopped from cloud to cloud, smacking the balls of fluff to prevent any forecast of rain.

Rain led to uncertainty, and she couldn’t have uncertain weather conditions for this mission.

Her feet carried her down to the surface until she was met with a barren street with no one to see her. As she liked it, for God’s servants should not be seen; only action mattered! The rampant roar of a far-away street must be attracting the mortals. Readying her scepter, Angie carried herself through alleyways until she came upon the anomaly that she had been warned about.

“Wow…” she marveled as a wall of fire and ice blocked passersbys from a nearby house. Through the flames and snow, the walls were rustic and broken. Unused. Destruction be damned, these spirits saw it fit to make sure no one else is disturbed by their chaos. Two spirits… a secret meeting?

Though, given the spirit’s past, it was a miracle that this turn of events hadn’t come sooner.

Very well. 

A small child inched towards the walls, and Angie’s scepter blocked him. The boy, small and doe-eyed with greasy black strands of hair, whined and banged against the scepter. “Let me go!”

Angie smiled, her wide-eyed expression turning towards the naive boy in the blink of an eye. The boy reeled back, mouth agape, and stared in fascination; his eyes fell to a small, star pendant around Angie’s neck. The one that housed all of her magic and power. Children were receptive to trinkets that house magical energy, as well as spirits; in fact, unless a mortal was blessed with the gift of sight, only children saw them. Through the devastation, the boy saw two helpless, star-crossed spirits sitting in a bed of fire and ice. He must’ve been worried, for normally people who could see these spirits thought them to be strange-looking mortals.

“I can’t do that, little one,” Angie Yonaga sighed contently. Above him, a set of parents held him by the shoulders firmly; Angie could see this boy was a strong one, so his parents weren’t actually holding him back. They just thought they were, because they could not see Angie.

“T-There’s people in there!” he cried desperately. “They’re going to… d-d…”

“Shhh…” Angie hushed him, laying a gentle hand upon his shoulder next to where his mother was. Drawing him in close, she cradled his head under her chin. 

Eyelashes flickering against her skin, the boy whispered, “I’m tired…”

“ Sleep ,” she commanded. The boy’s eyes fell closed and he slumped against her. The parents yelled out to him, concerned; he was fine. Angie made sure to never kill mortals (except ones that became spirits), for that was not her job.

Great waves of flames and hail swirled together in a storm of opposition, fighting for dominance. There were two boys in the middle who drew close. Angie smiled.

“Target found!” she exclaimed to the heavens, knowing that God would hear her. Without further ado, she walked into the storm.

“Fix this?” Kokichi growled. “What happened the last time we wanted to fix this, Shuichi? What? Did you magically forget?”

“Please listen to me. The gods may be merciful.” The blizzard spirit moved away from the wall. Ice crackled along the wooden panels, towards Kokichi. It spread to his concrete, extinguishing a flame.

“Back off!” he shouted. “You’re gonna kill us both at this rate. Or something worse, I don’t know!”

“I’m miserable…” Shuichi lamented. His fingers tapped upon the wood, sparks of ice and flurries of snowflakes spawning everywhere his finger landed. Threatened, Kokichi clambered further into where his safety wall was. His fire could not spread to the wood, even if Shuichi’s ice was safe to spread to his area. Still, they were both dangerous. This was a foolish idea, brought about by arrogance and defiance against an almighty being. “How long has it been, Kokichi? I’ve lost track… More than our original lifespan, I’m sure.”

Kokichi’s frown deepened. “... What does it matter? This is my fault, anyways. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

The ice fizzled and cracked, the hail becoming thicker and more poignant. A harsh sheet of ice sliced through the air and hit a wall adjacent to Kokichi. Shuichi’s face was sorrowful, but his storm was angry; Kokichi knew how emotions may affect their respective disasters well, and it was only a matter of time before this conversation vanquished an entire city. It was silly to gather in mortal territory, but there was no longer any other option—every square inch of the planet was inhabited by mortals, and the parts that weren’t were far too cold for Kokichi to go or far too hot for Shuichi.

With a hiss that sounded like steam escaping a pipe, Shuichi whispered, “How can you even say that?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kokichi relented, dropping the conversation for now. “Trying to fix anything will only make the curse stronger. So let’s go. Goodbye, Shuichi. It was nice seeing you before—!” Kokichi’s speech was stopped by a harsh gasp as an icy, tentacle-like hand grasped his wrist. It twisted and melted against his flesh, but every time the ice faded to steam it was replaced by a colder burst of ice. Kokichi’s heart felt heavy, beating in rhythms against his chest as his fire grew with each passing second until it was a blazing inferno. Shuichi’s ice threatened to put him out, and his blaze tried to melt him. Two separate and opposite forces of nature blended together until their vision was filled with nothing but blue and red; fire and ice, passion and passivity, anger and softness. 

What was to happen when the passionate became passive and the passive became passionate? Ice cannot be angry, and yet it was happening before Kokichi’s eyes. He saw the “fire” burn in Shuichi’s irises, as his teeth grit and he winced in pain from the harsh licks of burning flames. “Listen to me…” he sibilated, his face stiff as he studied Kokichi’s expression. The boy of fire felt small under Shuichi’s watch; he never felt small.

“I get it. You’re dragging me into your twisted game! I want no part in your assisted suicide.”

“If you would listen! ”

“Fuck off! I’ve got it—I’ll help speed up the process.”

Shuichi’s eyes only had a chance to widen, his lips curving into an ‘o’ shape briefly and a sharp, “No—!” falling from his lips before Kokichi’s inferno grew, and grew, until it encompassed the wood and overtook Shuichi’s ice. The boy of ice cried out as a blast from the steam sent him crashing into the wood. It held him there until the wall gave way and he fell outside to the rubble below. 

Kokichi’s lip curled. He ignored the faint sense of disappointment at the loss of Shuichi’s touch (no matter how cold it may have been), to instead mutter a quiet, “Good riddance.” He wouldn’t be dead. That wouldn’t kill him. Shuichi was too durable for that. Out of all their years (millennia, maybe) knowing each other, he had proven himself to be like a cockroach; but was Kokichi any different? They’d practically expended all resources to kill each other at this point, but at most it took them out for a decade or two. One of them always came back. 

The price of immortality.

The boy’s eyes stayed glued to where Shuichi’s feet hung on to the wood. He stayed, unmoving. Probably out of commission.

Kokichi’s eyes fell to the wood, now scorched. There must be scours of civilians gathering outside now. They would label this arson, or a weird natural disaster that ended without human intervention. That’s how it always went, and how it always would go.

Despite his best interest and the small voice whispering in his head to avoid his desires and keep on as they always had, according to the gods demands, he did not listen. He always had, but he did not.

Two beings of nature, one of fire and one of ice. They were not weak, but they were not strong. Their powers were not as intense as immortals; even if they were not human, they were still mortal—they breathed oxygen, they required food and drink, and they just happened to control the elements.

Kokichi was the name of the being made of fire. Shuichi was the name of the being made of ice.

It was not forbidden for them to form a friendship, as many would assume based on the direction of this lore; they could speak to each other, they could write to each other, and they could even love one another.

There was only one condition, and this condition was told to them for years as their romance grew by the great masters above. It was drilled into their heads. It was a part of their nature.

It was bullshit.

They could never, under any circumstances, touch one another.

The beings of fire and ice were far too different. If they touched, not only would they die, but they would cause a disaster of unprecedented magnitude. They were not selfish beings, at least not at first, so they did not care to break this vow. They told their masters that they would only speak to one another, not touch.

But the being of fire was a curious one, whose love for Shuichi was far greater than his love for the world. The beings of fire and ice did not live long, so their vow to protect the earth was also short-lived.

All it took was a push.

Kokichi’s frown trembled as he looked at Shuichi’s prone form. He was still, as still as a day fresh in his memory centuries later. His eyelashes lay flat against his cheekbones, lids screwed shut as dreams danced behind them. Snow no longer fell around him, snuffed out with the force of Kokichi’s flame.

“I’m sorry…” he whispered, his voice only audible to himself. “It’s just like always. I screw everything up, don’t I?” Slowly, he bent down to Shuichi’s level. His hand brushed against the ground.

Kokichi ghosted his hand over Shuichi’s, only barely not touching his skin. “You deserved better. I’m sorry, Shuichi… I’m sorry. If I hadn’t been so impulsive, we would both be gone in whatever afterlife awaits us. So much time wasted… For what?” Kokichi’s knuckles tensed. “This? Never being able to even talk to you without a disaster occurring? All I want is to…” His fingers twitched towards Shuichi’s. “Is to…”

“Oho~? What’s this?” A pleasantly deceptive voice startled Kokichi out of his trance, and it took everything he had not to fall onto Shuichi. “Shame… You killed the other before I had the chance to! This will require so much paperwork.”

The wildfire spirit’s eyes landed upon a girl dressed in a white bikini and a yellow cardigan with white slides, small pigtails flowing down her back as she gazed at Kokichi. He was not impressed; this girl was obviously not a mortal if she could see him, so what the hell—!

SHINK!

“... What?” Kokichi’s hand fell to his cheek, where a slab of flesh was now missing. A rod of iron bit into his shoulder, with a crown at the head. A scepter? He bounced backwards, away from the mystery girl whose hand was already back at her side, blood-soaked scepter and all. His fire reignited. “B-Bitch! Back away!”

“Dang. I missed! Oh well! I would like to see what you can do, Kokichi Ouma, the Spirit of Wildfires!” She straightened and pointed her scepter at Kokichi, and he only had a moment to leap away before a burst of radiant light swept through the foyer and out the other side of the cabin. Mortals screamed from outside.

Kokichi fell, panting, to the floor. Putting the pieces together rapidly in his mind, he cried, “Isn’t your job to protect mortals? You’re destroying their property and scaring them out of their minds!”

The woman turned and blinked, confused. “You must be mistaken! I have said no such thing. My job is to serve one deity.” She extended her arms outward and smiled as a pair of vibrant wings sprouted from her back. Her body glowed with bright yellow energy—the same as the one that burst from her scepter—as her image shifted before his eyes.

Her cardigan grew into a cape, and her bikini grew into a white, armored dress with a cross on the chestplate. Her loafers were gone, and instead she was barefoot. Eyes sprouted and sprouted upon her face until she was covered in them, and they all went different directions as if to observe the entire room. No room for ambush. His gaze shifted to Shuichi, who was still slumped over.

“The one true god!” Her voice rebounded across the room with the volume of a choir, and kept reverberating in his skull until he fell to the floor. The legion grew louder as the weight of his body hit the wood.

“Fuckin’... Angels…” Kokichi hissed, clutching his side. “Hoped I’d never run into one.” His eye followed Angie as she fluttered over, wincing against the harsh light. “God, they look just as freaky as I always heard.” Raising his voice, he called out to the angel. “Hey, fuckface!”

Deceptively pleasantly, she murmured, “My name is Angie Yonaga! You will do well to not forget it!”

“Whatever—” he grunted, sitting upright. “Aren’t you barking up the wrong tree? I-I’m not a demon or anything, so this has nothing to do with your mythos.”

“You are mistaken, Spirit of Wildfire. In the one God’s crusade, no stone goes unpunished.” Her scepter pointed at him. “You have breached your contract against the Great Masters. You were plotting deviancy from your curse that you were rightly given. If I hadn’t come in when I had, you would’ve nearly destroyed the planet once more. That is a capital offense, Spirit of Wildfire. The punishment is an easy one.” Her grin widened impossibly so against the weight of her many eyes. “Death. True death."

The scepter’s light grew as it aimed at his head. He frowned and laid it to the floor, awaiting certain death, as memories from years past that he didn’t entirely remember anymore tried to budge their way to the surface.

“What will you do to Shuichi…?” he asked in the lull of silence.

“He is the plotter. His punishment will be worse than death.”

“... Worse? What are you planning to do?”

“That is none of your concern, Spirit. Please dream sweetly.”

The scepter’s light revved up. His eyes fell on Shuichi, easily awaiting whatever punishment would befall him. He closed his eyes, and a memory flooded his mind.

Two beings, one of fire and one of ice, sat upon a sand dune above the sea. Kokichi was healthy, but Shuichi was sick.

Shuichi’s eyes fell shut once more and Kokichi hit the ground three times, in a pulse-like beat, to wake up the sleeping ice being again. “You’re going to miss the sunset,” he warned. The being of fire tried to smile as brightly as he always did, but it was missing the sparkle that it always had. Breath frantic, Kokichi continued to beat upon the ground like he was performing a drum solo; as always, it had no use—spirits of their kind didn’t live long, and he could not possibly touch Shuichi to keep him awake.

“—kichi…” the spirit of ice began, “‘m sorry.”

“Wait… Wait, wait… Dummy. You’re not making any sense. What’s there to apologize for, huh?” The fire spirit’s words and volume grew more frantic as he leaned over Shuichi’s slouched form, only hoping his breath didn’t touch him. “You’re okay. Okay? Nothing’s gonna stop us.”

Amber eyes softly opened, and within them Kokichi spotted the beginnings of a blizzard. Snow fell in a dry, arid environment; not even Kokichi’s heat could beat it. When a blizzard occurred, or a wildfire, that was always the sign of a spirit dying. It was always like that, and Kokichi couldn’t change fate.

He would damn well try, though.

“You see it, too.” Shuichi murmured. “Life’s not kind to us.” Gaze falling upon a snowflake that tickled Kokichi’s nose, a melancholic grin tugged upon his face. “Look…” He pointed at the snowflake, despite the fact that it had already melted away into water and into the scorching sand. “I touched you… kind of.” The admission was spoken with relief, yet a touch of fear—alarm that had been installed into Shuichi by a being much more powerful than the both of them combined, yet not a smidgen as kind. 

Fire blazed Kokichi’s heart. It grew, until his hands were ablaze and the snowflakes falling to his lap evaporated into steam. The ice being's eyelids closed, the sad smile on his face turning to a sorrowful frown, and hail fell from his eyeballs. “Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad!” 

“I thought… You had gotten better about lying… Kokichi.” 

Even on death’s door, robbed of his sight and ability to regulate the weather, he saw right through him. Every cranny, every crack, every single aspect of his heart that he wished to keep hidden even from the one person he loved the most in the world. It was cruel that Shuichi would die before him. He may own this façade of not caring, of believing that he’d get right back to life after Shuichi’s inevitable demise, of being the most wicked being to ever walk the planet, but it was simply not true… Shuichi always saw that. 

Other beings may believe that it’s good that Shuichi died first, because Shuichi could not exist without Kokichi’s guidance. However, just the opposite was true. If Kokichi had died, Shuichi may have mourned for a short amount of time but would be able to continue with normal life soon enough. He would not be stuck in the rut of a lifestyle impossible to maintain. He would not become hyperfixated to traveling the globe in search of another in order to escape the pain of his heart, nor be glued to isolation out of a misplaced sense of loyalty. 

These were possible, if not inevitable, paths for Kokichi.

Fire and ice. Hot and cold. Logic and passion. 

Blizzards and wildfires.

There were those that found it ironic Kokichi had been born a fire being instead of an ice being—he chastised those who ran off of emotion and passion (the main thing that fire spirits are known for) like his fellow spirit Kaito, and instead always praised and found himself drawn to the beings of ice. Perhaps that is why he had connected to Shuichi instantly.

Shuichi, while fitting an ice being, had been just the opposite; he was always drawn to spirits of fire. That’s why Kaito was his best friend, and why Kokichi—the fire being who should’ve been made of ice—became his lover. For years, they had spoken about how they wished they had both been made of ice, so they could touch and feel the gentle cold lingering in each other's fingertips, instead of a burning inferno that would melt Shuichi in an instant and cause unprecedented disaster. 

Yet, it was clear as day to Kokichi then why he had been born as a being of fire.

The all-encompassing heat rose to his head, and he could only see orange and red flames licking his vision and the once-colorless sand of the Sahara desert. Shuichi’s life force faded and the blizzard slowed as the snowflakes were ripped from the air by the sheer force of Kokichi’s building rage. 

“Ko…kichi… C-Calm…”

Red, hot tears fell down his cheeks and scorched the ground below; magma—impossibly hot earth buried itself through the sand and to the center of the earth. Shuichi’s hand reached towards his, only stopping mere centimeters away. A dangerous game, for Kokichi wanted nothing more than to close the distance between them. How is it fair, for them to be in love yet be treated by nature like criminals who were not deserving of a life with each other? They could never hold hands, or hug, or kiss, or anything. From the day they met, this had been a cursed romance that would only end in death.

He had been warned by the grandmasters, yet he had never listened. Shuichi hadn’t either, even though he had always been so smart—the smartest of elemental beings, also doomed by pubescent idiocy. “I can’t calm down!” he growled. “Wake the fuck up!”

“Kokichi,” the other being whispered painfully, “Please don’t end it like this… Full of hate.”

The fire being's burning rage only grew until his heart beat so fast that it felt like it was about to burst out of his chest. A wildfire grew in the distance. “Are you listening to yourself?! How could I—how could…” His vision fell apart then wound itself back together like a jigsaw puzzle, oceans of red magma making it impossible for him to see anything but the bright amber of Shuichi’s eyes. It was all he needed, at that moment, even if they were full of devastation and fear, anxiety and pain—every emotion, he could deal with it, as long as it came from Shuichi.

If it came from him? Well… That was a different story.

The wildfire grew until it burst under his knees and ignited him whole. “Who cares about some stupid, fucked up planet that we’re both going to eventually die on? A floating lump of earth in this vast, empty universe—and somehow us sharing our love for one another is going to ruin it? Give me a break! It’s only a way to subdue us; do you really think that the gods care what two little elementals do?!”

“... K-Kokichi… Think about what you’re saying. Not only would it hurt us, but all of our friends, too!”

“Who cares?!”

“I thought you did.”

Callous. Shuichi’s words, much colder than any words spoken to him before, pierced through his heart like an icicle and twisted, his blood pouring from the gaping wound left behind. What was next? ‘I thought you had changed’, ‘So the rumors about you were true’, ‘I knew Kaito was right about you…’ Kokichi’s fingers wove through his hair and pulled, attempting to save him from the sea of fire threatening to consume him. 

I’m not what you expected. I’m sorry. I want to be better. I want to change. But it’s impossible. 

Fingers inched closer to his knee. He could feel the harsh breeze of the blizzard approaching him, and the fire began to snuff itself out. A chill fell upon his heart and stopped his descent into self-pity—(how could he have ever forgiven himself if that had been his last moment with Shuichi?)—and everything was clear in an instant. His head, his heart, and his wildfire.

“We may have never touched… But I love you. Every moment I spent in this life with you was full of laughter, hope, and ease… Even if we were never able to hold hands or any of that… I’d do it all over again just for the chance to be with you.” As he spoke, Shuichi’s hands drew closer as his voice grew weaker.

“Stop talking in absolutes. You don’t have to die here!”

Amber, hazy eyes met violet ones and the blizzard began to die. His lower lids rose up in amusement, and his lips did too, for it was ridiculous for Kokichi to claim such a wild statement. “We both knew how this story was going to end. Kokichi… all I want…”

“Shut the fuck up!”

“I want… you to… be…” Shuichi grunted in pain, hissing through his teeth as the last snowflake fell.

“Be quiet! You’re wasting your energy, and then you’re gonna—!” His anger stopped as quickly as his words did, stare lingering on Shuichi’s prone form as he slowly began to sink into the sand. Shuichi’s fingers twitched, like they were desperately trying to maintain their grip on reality, and Kokichi’s did too as he wished to pull him above the surface. “... die quicker…” the fire being finally concluded, in a voice so soft that not even a spirit with the best hearing in the world could possibly hear him.

Shuichi did, however, despite all odds. His smile rose on his face; it wasn’t melancholic like before, but rather accepting—he knew it was his time, as he always did, and he must’ve known for a long time. “Don’t die hating the world that we were born into. Live knowing that you’ve experienced the best life you possibly could with the circumstances.”

“That’s not…”

“... True? But we’re here together, under the stars—” When had the sun set? “They’re bright today.”

They were. Every constellation winked at the two seasonal beings below. They beckoned Shuichi to hurry up and join them. Their light was mesmerizing, like a gentle embrace in a wild storm; like a blanket that a mother wraps around her young child. The stars must know it hurt, so they wrapped the two of them in those blankety embraces and hugged them so tight that every breath transformed into a painful wheeze.

“I love you,” Kokichi finally said, matter-of-factly. They were close. They had known each other for their entire lives. And yet, Kokichi rarely ever stated how he truly felt; it was known—one must be blind to not see the way that Kokichi looked at the ice being—but it was just that. Words did not speak near as loud as actions, but words were needed where touch was absent.

In their short life, Kokichi had never understood that sentiment. It was only then, when Shuichi’s cheeks lit up with the first glimpses of color he had ever seen on the other being that he understood the things he should’ve known earlier in his life, not only at the end. Shuichi’s face slackened a moment later, his amber gaze dull and unseeing. “Goodbye,” he whispered into the air, and like that the light was gone, his breath extinguishing his essence with a puff of frigid air that spiraled through the desert landscape.

Kokichi sat for a long while after that. His cheeks were dry, as always (except when they weren’t), and he didn’t dare look to his right to see Shuichi’s slumped form disappearing into white dust. The stars now appeared a lot more dull, as if their previous luminescence was a display only put on for Shuichi—someone who deserved the light of the stars in their last moments. They saw Kokichi unfit, just as the grandmasters and every other fire being did. The big dipper twinkled one last time and faded, and then the white dust he wished to avoid replaced the stars to form constellations of their own. He had to weave to avoid it, because they were still Shuichi , and Shuichi wouldn’t have wanted him to—!

Sharp strikes on the desert sand broke his attention.

Warily, he turned to where he knew Shuichi’s hand was, and the fingers wiggled freely at him in death spasms that were much too life-like to be mere coincidence. They dared inch closer, and closer, until only a touch separated them.

Touch…

Kokichi paused. “Shuichi… We’re in the middle of a desert.”

The man’s only remaining body part twitched again as it threatened to fade away and join the rest of the white dust flying to the heavens above. 

“Would anything really happen if I were to touch you? Just once? What could go wrong? What would happen?” 

Shuichi must be so disappointed in him, yet the fire began to grow once more against the soles of his feet. The warmth relaxed him; just as Shuichi had brought clarity once before, the inferno brought resolve and revelations.

“Who is to say that anything would happen? What if they were lying to us? W-What if we… What if we’re more powerful together than apart, and that’s why they felt the need to stop our hands from joining?” The pad of Kokichi’s index finger hovered above Shuichi’s own, a mere millimeter separating them from their due destiny. “I don’t want to spend what little time I have left wondering.”

Temptation overrode logic, as fit for a fire spirit. With an exhale of charged breath, he touched Shuichi’s finger with his own, and the world exploded in a cacophony of fire and ice.

Blizzards and Wildfires.

Shuichi’s eyes fell open, his heart banging like a gong in his chest; it warned him of imminent danger, and with a huff he rolled upright onto the sturdy panels of wood awaiting his return. 

At the same time, Kokichi’s gaze snapped to his, and they both knew the truth that their hearts had hid for millennia. They needed each other. They were going to fight for each other. 

The scepter that the angel aimed at Kokichi lit up in a burst of celestial energy and shot at him, and Shuichi weaved together a band of sleet and fired it at Kokichi’s feet as he dodged to the side. Kokichi fell back-first onto a panel of wood, igniting it in a fiery blaze, and the flames whispered to Shuichi. It’s time. Everything you’ve learned matters now. 

Heavens and earth.

Angels and demons.

Blizzards and wildfires.

Whatever has an explosive reaction has an equally neutral reaction. Opposites were attracted to each other, not split apart. Angels sought demons, yet they were no demons; they were only fallen beings who were forced to become spirits for nothing but the beguilement of the grandmasters and the gods above—gods who knew the fates of their creations.

Yet, every creation was befit to own their own salvation; they were able to think, feel, and form new attachments only on a whim. A fire being and an ice being should’ve never met, much less been friends or lovers, and yet they had known each other for millennia—even if they had drifted apart once the torch fell and ignited every thread of fate that lingered between them.

With their past actions, how many doomed romances had they caused? How many fire beings and ice beings were forbidden from ever meeting, for fear of a disaster like one they had caused in the Sahara desert years ago? He had awoken to fire spitting from the sky, and snow mixed with hail propelling the fiery meteors with the force of its velocity, and then he had been cursed to a fate he had never been privy to.

Such is life. The balances had been tipped, and balance must remain in the universe.

However, the gods above had made one crucial mistake with their ruling. By cursing the two star-crossed beings into immortal spirits of blizzards and wildfires, they had given rise to not only unprecedented power, but unrivaled determination to fight against a system unfit to their needs.

Just as some thought it might be better if Kokichi was a being of ice, only Shuichi knew that they had made the wrong call when assigning his element; his passion and ambition was second only to those fire beings.

It was Kokichi who taught him the value of that.

Pulling the sleet along the ground, Kokichi rolled until he was seated at Shuichi’s feet, staring up at a spirit who wanted nothing more than to reconnect to their lost mortal days. Shuichi reached out his hand, wiggling his fingers the same way that Kokichi said he had when he was deceased. “Grab my hand,” he whispered.

The wildfire spirit’s violet eyes grew wider; they were not reflecting fire, but the dull cinders of uncertainty. “But—!”

“Stop it!” The angel yelled, the hundreds of eyes upon her face bulging until they threatened to pop in flurries of goo. Red veins expanded and all of the eyes narrowed at once. “God’s judgment is upon you. Stop, if you wish for any form of redemption.” 

Kokichi and Shuichi locked eyes. Their elements battled, biting and nipping at each other and trying to persevere in a battle of opposites. The problem millennia ago hadn’t been their love being too strong, but unequal. It was Kokichi who had chosen to grab Shuichi’s hand, without Shuichi ever having the chance to agree or disagree.

Now, Shuichi had reached out first. But he did not grab the other’s hand. He waited until Kokichi made a move to reach out too. 

The spirit of wildfire’s energy dimmed, just as Shuichi’s grew; they were two opposing forces, and where one was strong the other was weak. But they could both rise up against the oppressors and those that wanted to snuff out their flames and melt their snow. They only needed each other—to trust, to hold, and to keep.

He smiled at Kokichi. The celestial light from Angie’s scepter was no longer on his mind, for it only caused Kokichi to illuminate in the darkness of the night. His small embers grew more bright from the glowing magic. His very essence was blazing, even amidst certain defeat, as he stared skeptically at the very hand that had once sealed their fate of eternal misery. So the spirit of blizzards only smiled at him, the same way he did years and years ago in a simpler time where they didn’t have to worry about seeing each other face to face. Their elements were under their control, as was the force of their love. They could never touch, but back then they still were allowed to care for each other—not like now. 

They could change that. All it took was a step.

Kokichi’s hand extended towards Shuichi, scared fingers trembling as they froze from the force of Shuichi’s snowstorm. He winced, a hiss biting past his lips as even the steam from his breath crystallized into sheets of ice. Carefully guarded eyes met Shuichi’s, and he murmured, “What if this all goes wrong…?”

It could. It was only a theory. But Shuichi didn’t say that. All he replied, and with it he conveyed all of his intentions, were the two words: “Trust me.”

And Kokichi did. 

Red flames and faint sheets of blue melded together, until all the two spirits could see were swirling clouds of purple blinding their vision. It was only them. There were no angels, yokai, gods, or grandmasters. Together, Shuichi and Kokichi stood, two halves of a whole in a flurry of carefully controlled destruction. 

Kokichi’s eyes widened as the purple intensified, almost matching his eyes. “This didn’t happen last time…” With his free hand, he reached to the clouds and sunk his fingers in until they were to the knuckles. “It’s soft,” he whispered, and he pulled Shuichi with him.

The energy from their magic was not hot nor cold, but it was not lukewarm. It was them. There was no other way to describe it, or at least not one that Shuichi could think of—he felt Kokichi’s passion in the clouds, mixed with his own decisiveness and logic. The two kindred spirits were together, even in the midst of an attack on their very souls.

The spirit of wildfires (or had that been a lie, too?) grabbed his hand tighter, tighter, until his hand cramped from the pressure, but he made no move to shrug Kokichi off. They would stay together, forever now, if this was the result of their “destruction”. “Shuichi. I—!”

“Whoopsie! That was a close one!” A ray of golden light burst through the purple clouds, blinding them with its radiance. The angel with a million eyes parted the swirling energy as she stepped through to join them, but her face had shifted to become more human-like. Her chin was softer and her eyes less intense, though there were still many. “No, no, this won’t do… Kokichi. Shuichi. Why do you insist on defying your orders?! Are you that desperate for eternal damnation?” The angel’s pout turned into a sly grin, unfit to her face—however scary it may be, it became more so. “I will provide it.”

“Angie, leave us alone.” Angie? The freaky woman’s eyes blinked slowly as if dumbstruck by the request.

“Why would I do that? God has called for your demise, and unlike you two I am not one to go against God’s command! I am his most faithful servant! It is with this power that I can fulfill his most demanding task.” She began to glow brilliantly, the light emitted from the center of her sternum where a star pendant rested. “I am sorry, Kokichi Ouma, Shuichi Saihara. It is a shame that we have met in these circumstances. But I have faith that you will be a devout servant to our God in the next life! Maybe you’ll even be an angel. Goodbye—for this life!” She became brighter, as did her scepter, until the blinding light overtook the purple clouds even as the two spirits cowered together in the hopes of their power coming back. The yellow radiance grew over them like a tidal wave.

Kokichi squeezed his hand tight, eyes closed. “Her pendant—that’s where it’s coming from. If we get that—!”

“She’ll have no way to attack us.” Shuichi nodded. “But… she’s an angel. There’s no way we can defend against her. They’re some of the most powerful beings in the universe.”

“... Then why would a pesky angel want to kill two spirits?”

“We caused a massive natural disaster last time.”

“And only one of us was alive at that time. Together, with both of us in control, our power is immeasurable. All we need to do is be in control. ”

Shuichi’s mouth flew open, and he opened his eyes only a crack to stare perplexedly at the other spirit’s face. The other boy’s face was strained tightly, his mouth wired into a thoughtful frown. “And how do we find this control?”

Fire ignited his palm, and reflexively his ice melded with it. Purple energy grew from their interlocked fingers, soft pillows of fluff melting all of his anxiety away in an instant. It didn’t matter who was after them—Angie, God, whoever—as long as he was with Kokichi, it was okay. 

It would always be okay. Even if they died here.

“Close your eyes, Shuichi.” 

“W-What? How’d you kno—?”

“I know you. Close them.” Weakly, the spirit of blizzards submitted, and the spirit of wildfire's soul grew closer and blazed Shuichi’s own essence. It was sweet, yet scary, but Kokichi squeezed his hand tightly and any hesitation that he might have had vanished in one moment. They grew closer, and closer, and before Shuichi could register what was about to happen, Kokichi mumbled a phrase he hadn’t heard in millennia a brush away from his lips. “I love you.”

Fire met ice. Two pairs of lips, one a frigid cold and the other a sea of warmth, collided and fought for dominance as the power of their hearts expanded and they heard a scepter fall against the ground as Angie yelled out in pain. Thousands of years of pent-up frustration and love unable to be satiated was cured in one moment, and with it the dam broke.

Tears, for once not made of hail but instead water, fell from Shuichi’s eyes and to the hand connecting the two of them. He reached his free hand to Kokichi’s cheek, stroking his thumb under the fire spirit’s eye, and he felt the same from the other man. It was not magma, but water. 

An exasperated huff met their ears. “What a shame… You two must believe that you have it all figured out now. How to control your powers, I mean.”

The two broke apart, shining beads of tears bright on their cheeks. They heard Angie’s words clear as day, but made no effort to look her way. They only saw each other for all they were: their weaknesses, strength, vulnerability, and soul. It was a fable written in the stars, by the stars, on the day that Shuichi Saihara first died.

Angie’s annoyance grew. They could feel it. “It is a fool’s journey. You will kill each other and bring everyone on this planet down with you. Do you want to do that, Kokichi, Shuichi? Do you, do you? You have friends, don’t you? And you care about each other so much , you would never want to kill each other. Right?”

“I love you, too…” Shuichi whispered instead. “So much.”'

“ Stop. ” Kokichi and Shuichi stiffened, their heads turning to peer at Angie against their own will. Her tense smile relaxed as she saw the two spirits look at her, walking with a gait matching that of a god herself. “Excellent! It’s rude to ignore someone when they’re talking to you!” 

Kokichi’s previously bright smile turned into a dull frown, the edges twitching with the barely controlled desire to shout expletives. Through grit teeth, he mumbled, “We clearly aren’t a danger anymore.”

“Oh, but that is where you are wrong, Kokichi Ouma!” Her eyes closed one by one until there were only two left on her face, where a human would normally keep their eyes. “I do not wish to cause you grief. I want you to know that. However—!” Her fallen scepter flew into her hands, a piece in each. It was snapped in two, glowing dust like glitter falling out from the inside of it. “You have caused me irreparable harm, and with it, you have upset the one true God. Actions have consequences. We cannot risk you attempting to dethrone God, either—you have enough reason for resentment, do you not?”

Shuichi’s frown, an expression matching Kokichi’s, grew. “We only want to live in peace.”

“I have heard many spirits state that they only wish to live in peace. Once upon a time, I may have believed you. But it took only one spirit that I graciously let go to oppose our rule—the God’s rule. It wanted to run him into the ground, to become the one true god itself.” Angie’s gaze darkened, shadows forming around her as her lips twisted until they were a horrid abomination like an old Eldritch horror. “I watched it bleed. Every action you have taken, spirits, have led to me meeting you here today. You are corrupt beings, cursed for a crime committed millennia ago, yet you have clearly learned nothing from the follies of your past. It is because of this, spirits, that we see no use for your existence anymore. I will not fluff it up any longer. Goodbye, honestly this time.”

The two knew instantly what she sought to do. Shuichi tackled Kokichi and rolled upon the ground as bright beams of radiance tore from Angie’s pendant rather than her scepter, sheets of wood and concrete falling around them like a tornado had struck. The debris flew and scratched Shuichi on his cheek, drops of icy blood falling and landing on Kokichi’s nose where it sizzled away into steam. 

“Shuichi!” the wildfire spirit cried out, panic rising and fire growing within his pupils—it reminded him of one of the last things he saw before the world faded before his eyes years ago. 

“I’m fine,” he grunted, hissing at the sting. They’d worry about that later. “The pendant.”

Kokichi’s frown grew, but his passion did not. A mere moment later, his eyes grew wide as a rush of air brushed past his ear and he shouted a quick, “FUCK!” Shuichi jumped, and was met with a swift punch to the backside of his head. 

KO’d, Shuichi’s head fell to Kokichi’s chest. The much smaller spirit grunted from the exertion, squeaking out, “The fuck?! You’ve got magic, why are you using martial arts on us?”

“I am not stupid, wildfire spirit! You two are talking very loud. I hear your plan quite well. For the record, I am still powerful without my pendant.” The angel rose her foot high into the air and stepped on to the earth where Kokichi would’ve been if Shuichi hadn’t summoned the strength to twirl them around away from the beguiling saint. “Pooey.”

“Ah-ha! Take that, bitch—ow, Shuichi, seriously, you’re freaking heavy!”

The blizzard spirit groaned into Kokichi’s chest, vision swimming with hazy images of the concrete and wood splinters falling upon him. “I’m gonna puke.”

“Not on me!”

“Mmm… It seems you two are the ones who are all talk. In your many years of life, have you never cared to learn self-defense?” The angel’s footsteps grew closer, like an omen of death approaching two helpless beings.

Kokichi attempted to move, but Shuichi was too heavy. The other spirit apologized under his breath, soft and quiet against the roaring elements and Angie. “We do! It was just a lucky strike, so as soon as Shuichi’s back to normal, we’re gonna kick your ass! ”

Liar.

“Oh, lovely. I cannot wait to see it!”

“Y-Yeah, just, uh… Quick recess?”

Angie stopped, tilting her head like a puppy begging for food. “Oh? A recess? I’m sorry, it doesn’t work like that. If you can “kick my ass”, then show me. Now. ” From where Shuichi was laying, dazed, upon Kokichi’s torso, he felt the other spirit’s muscles twitch involuntarily as he all but shoved Shuichi off of him. The blizzard spirit fell to the ground with a puff of irritation, the purple mist disappearing from his sight and fading into a wave of water. The water solidified and turned to icicles, piercing his clothing before he could recognize the dire situation.

Shuichi flinched and concentrated on the icicles, imagining them unsolidifying and falling from his jacket. It was no use—without Kokichi and as dazed as he was, he had no hope of actually freeing himself. He was fresh meat, ripe for the taking. And Kokichi had left him, lulled by the sweet timbre of the manipulative angel’s voice. (Is it fit to call someone like that an angel? He thought that a feature of her mythos was mercy, but clearly he had been mistaken.)

In a shaky voice brimming with pain and uncertainty, he called: “Kokichi? She’s going to kill you if you go over there. Come back, come back… ” He mimicked the angel’s sugary tone as he attempted to command the other boy much like Angie commanded him, but he had never been given the ability to control actions. Fighting an angel was a near-certain death sentence, and now that Angie had separated them and forced the purple residue to subside, she had destroyed their only fighting chance. A high possibility became a certainty. Just as beings of ice and fire would die in blazes and snowstorms, their life cycle would end as it should’ve years ago—in the middle of nowhere, with no being to remember their story, in ways befitting of their birth-defined inheritance. 

Blizzards and wildfires.

His heartbeat increased in tempo, drumming in his ears in a ritualistic fashion. Kokichi walked to his death, as the angel’s pleasant smile widened and any traces of past hostility vanished from her expression. Holding her arms open wide, she beckoned Kokichi closer with her fingers, the wicked smirk growing as the wildfire spirit’s feet dragged upon the floors, obviously fighting the need to follow Angie into the dark and beyond to obey her command.

“Kokichi,” he whimpered. “ Stop. ” The command did not work. The boy’s eyes flickered to his, cast over with shadows as he lowered his head in shame. His lips mouthed something indistinguishable, but he understood the sentiment as he had looked the same when he whispered a familiar phrase to Kokichi millennia ago.

“Goodbye.”

Shuichi’s heart beat louder, blowing out his ears with the frigid blood running through his veins. The dam holding back the boy’s tears broke, his head clearing at once, and the line of defense became crystal clear at that moment. A thread connected him to Angie, and Angie to Kokichi, and Kokichi to him. It was ghostly, the white tendrils falling flat an instant later, but he felt it. He heard it. He memorized it.

Yellow magic grew in Angie’s hands, her fingernails growing as the celestial magic encompassed her body in its warmth. Shuichi felt it from where he was, his skin crawling and burning with the heat of the radiance. Kokichi fell to the ground, his legs unable to support him. His arms continued the heavy lifting, dragging his prone form to Angie like a meal ready to be bit into.

In, out… In, out…

Oxygen filled his lungs like it had in his mortal days, his eyes becoming ablaze with the power of both ice and fire, passion and clarity. He whispered a psalm into the open air, the ice bending to his will and splattering his arms with water that was not cold but not hot. The water wrapped around his fingers and solidified, becoming sharper than icicles and as thick as a thin glacier.

The thread thickened, becoming broad and wooly as different strings were birthed from it and sprouted to many different paths. It reached to Kokichi, to the doorway, to the ceiling, and to Shuichi himself. But it stayed thickest on the pendant that housed all of her power. She may say that she is as powerful without the pendant as she is with it, but she would be nothing if it were to be broken.

Gaze sharpening, Angie’s magic formed a sphere aimed at Kokichi’s head. Her dubious smile had disappeared, replaced with the present malice that she had always hid inside her heart. In an angel’s final moments, their true self was revealed. She spared no time for a grandiose finale, only hoping to finish her current murder so that she could move to the next in the hopes of satiating a “God”.

Angie’s plan didn’t matter. He was faster.

With the ice spraying from his fingertips, Angie’s leer cut to him and she raised her sphere to block the icicles and redirect them to an adjacent wall, the magic falling away as she did so. Kokichi fell to the ground, exhausted, the power she held over him released the instant that her concentration had been broken. “Shuichi Saihara, did you really think that would—?”

No. It’s only the penultimate attack.

The string to Kokichi grew stronger, more resilient, as the angel’s fate sealed itself. With a growl of irritation and newfound strength, he ignited his hands and feet with fire and shot himself up like a jet. Angie reeled back in shock, a whisper on her lips, but there was no time for her next action.

With a flourish of red, hot energy, the pendant was torn from Angie’s sternum and ignited within Kokichi’s palm. The flames ignited his face and formed a wicked sneer of their own; in another story, Kokichi would be the villain. In this one, he had sealed his own fate and become a hero of his own right.

The hole in Angie’s chest crackled with glowing energy and fell away to golden dust, the radiance and power that she held gone. Growling, she hissed, “Angels cannot die. I will only need to recuperate. And there is no way— ” Her fingertips touched Kokichi’s closed fist. Angie winced as the flames seared her skin to nothing but charcoal, but did not let go, attempting with all she had to pry his fingers open and grab back her still-unbroken pendant.

“Kokichi!” Shuichi called. The spirit’s eyes widened and peered towards Shuichi’s hand as it stretched towards him, glacial energy coursing through his fingerprints and becoming a foggy cloud as it met the scorching air. He ran towards him just as Kokichi’s hand stretched itself near him, hope radiating in his irises the same way that it burst through his chest.

Their hands met.

The purple mist coursing with the energy of both blizzards and wildfires came back ten-fold, tornados whipping their hair across their faces and peeling the golden dust from Angie. “You will never kill me! If you destroy that pendant, I will do everything in my power to kill you. Your fight will never end. For all eternity, I will be chasing you!”

Shuichi and Kokichi met each other's eyes. They spoke of nothing but love, of acceptance, of newfound joy after a millennia of misery. They no longer wished to die.

They wanted to live.

Kokichi’s smirk widened. “We’ll take that chance.” And with the power of their combined energy, the blizzards and the wildfires collided on to Kokichi’s palm and broke the pendant into golden dust that mimicked the dust falling from Angie’s body. She screamed in rage, and she vanished until she was nothing but a speck in their hurricane of destructive energy.

The two collided with one another in a kiss, the purple storm slowing around them as it calmed. Unlike millennia ago, they could now control this power.

Maybe they always could.

Two spirits, one of blizzards and one of wildfires, fell to the floor in a heap and laughed together. They were happy, even with the impending threat of an angel who had no motivation but the desire to kill them permanently.

“Geez… How long do you think it’ll take her to regenerate?” Kokichi chuckled, watching as the last speck of golden dust faded before their eyes.

“Based on how long it normally would take us to regenerate if we died by normal means… I’d say a few years. Unfortunately, she is a more powerful being than us.”

“Separately.”

Shuichi's gaze widened. “What was that?”

“We’re way more powerful than her together.”

The boy smiled. Like the old days, everything felt right. Except in this timeline, they could touch and be together in a way that they never had before. This timeline, no matter how painful it was to get there, must be the best one.

“Yeah… You’re right. No matter what happens from here on out, we’ll always be together.”

It’s a promise.