Chương 27: Hearth

His phone on the carpet in front of him, the translation app open, Kurisu sat on the bedroom floor as Kenji rounded the corner, drying his hair.

"Sorry to make you wait like that," the boy said, loading a disc into the grey machine.

"I hate being sweaty."

"Is fine," Kurisu replied. A strange chime sounded, heralding the projection of painted phantoms that shifted and formed images on the television.

"This is a PlayStation, it was my dad's system," Kenji explained.

"He played this back in the day, but this one... this one is special. I love this old game. You control the little guy, Alex, fight monsters, get stronger," he continued, pointing at the screen.

"See this red bar? This is Hit Points. When you get hit, the bar goes down. If it hits zero, you die. It's basically Chi. Your life force."

"Chi is not some bar that slowly depletes," Kurisu said with a huff through his nose, lifting his chin in indignance.

"It's just a way to represent it," the teen explained, guiding his warrior into a swarm of slime creatures, "instead of killing a character the moment anything touches them. Don't the Miller kids play games? Figured you'd have learned something by now."

"Both Kellevra and Ace play on the box, though Ace overwhelmingly moreso," Kurisu replied.

"I have little interest in such pastimes." As he pressed buttons on the controller, a small triangle would appear and dart all over the screen, seemingly prompting the avatars to act, though his careless strategy allowed the monsters to strike his figure until the red bar shrank and the television flashed.

"Whoa, okay, close call," Kenji laughed, finishing the fight.

"See? Gotta watch the bar. Now those blue crystals over there... those are tough. I don't want to fight them. Hey, since you actually have one... do dragons crap diamonds?" Letting the silence stretch for a long moment, Kurisu stared at the boy through half-lidded eyes.

"They do not," he responded in a deadpan tone.

"Shame," Kenji shrugged.

"Wondered if the game was right." Leaning in, he squeezed his character past the first group.

"I need that chest." As the sprite moved towards a narrow gap, it prompted the floating crystal to pulse and turn dark blue before giving chase across the floor.

"Do not run towards the glass!" Kurisu said, his voice pitching slightly as he watched the television.

"I got it, I got—" With a sudden flash, the screen shattered into a battle swirl as soon as the crystal touched the sprite.

"Damn it," Kenji sighed as four large beasts made of ice filled the screen.

"I totally thought I had room." Crossing his arms, Kurisu shook his head.

"Your Zanshin is insufficient."

"Bro," Kenji sighed." Shi wa shi no mama nari," Kurisu replied, watching the boy rapidly hit buttons. The phone on the carpet remained silent for a long moment, prompting both of them to stare at the device as it processed the audio. Finally, the robotic voice spoke.

"People die when they are killed." Kenji snorted, shaking his head.

"No shit, Socrates. Top-tier translation right there."

"Even within the box," Kurisu added, the app keeping up this time. After surviving the battle by a fraction of the red bar, Kenji exhaled.

"Well then, it's a good thing I didn't die now, isn't it?" With a shake of his head, Kurisu stood up.

"Practice," he commanded, walking up the steps from the basement before calling back over his shoulder." Ki! Do not immolate your home." Upon rounding the corner into his neighborhood, Kurisu halted, struck by a wave of invisible pressure that washed hot against his skin, carrying the distinct taste of panic—a flavor he would never be able to forget.

Down the street, smoke choked the evening sky above the Miller home, drawing a cold sweat across his skin as a flash of his own home engulfed in flames seared through his mind.

He broke into a run, recklessly sprinting and not caring if he stayed within human limits, his boots grinding against the asphalt as he closed the distance. Charlotte knelt on the front lawn, clutching a coughing Kellevra to her chest as she shouted into her phone. Spotting Kurisu, she pointed frantically toward the house, babbling desperate words he couldn't decipher. With a surge past her, he kicked the door open, meeting a wall of heat that seared his lungs.

Through the thick smoke, he swiped his hand to part the air and pushed into the kitchen. Clutching his head and screaming, Ace crouched in the corner of the room, the cabinets above him bursting into flame. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Near the island, Steven kept low beneath the smoke, crawling toward his son, though intermittent flames would flick off the young boy's skin and force the man back.

With his hands brought together into the Rin mudra, Kurisu interlocked his fingers and extended his middle fingers to form the Dokko-in seal, muttering the esoteric chant beneath his breath." On baishiramaya sowaka." The art channeled into the spiritual walls of his Tanden to fortify himself, he seized the air in the room and ripped it away, and lacking oxygen, the fire died instantly.

The strain ground against his Keiraku as he flooded them with excess Ki to maintain the vacuum, his Tanden screaming against the millions of pounds of atmospheric pressure rushing to reclaim the space. Kurisu grimaced as Ace clutched his throat, his lungs emptying while Steven dropped flat against the tiles.

Assuming brief suffocation to be better than the alternative, Kurisu fought to bleed the pressure back slowly, holding the crushing weight of the world at bay so the sudden repressurization wouldn't rupture their eardrums and burst their lungs. Upon releasing his hold just in time as his grip failed, air rushed back into the room with a deafening crack, rattling the cabinet doors.

He staggered against the wide entryway, his Keiraku throbbing with pain, feeling as though someone had poured molten slag into his veins and left it to cool while his vision swam with gray spots as a trickle of blood tracked down his lip. Steven, drawing a large breath, scrambled across the floor, dragging Ace away from the scorched corner.

From his spot at the entrance into the kitchen, Kurisu wiped the blood from his mouth and assessed the damage, panning his view from the scorched corner, across the blistered face of the icebox, and finally to the patch of floor next to him where the ceramic tiles had warped and rippled. Wincing as his knee slammed into the tile, Kurisu knelt, touching the twisted stone.

"Did the heat melt the tiles?" Steven asked, soot smearing his face.

"No melt," Kurisu rasped.

"Stone warm. Not boiling." Charlotte ran past Kurisu into the kitchen and dropped beside Ace, frantically checking the boy for burns before turning to pat down her husband.

"We're okay," Steven wheezed.

"Kurisu, your nose," Charlotte gasped, looking up." Ii," Kurisu breathed out, waving a hand weakly to ward off her concern, his voice a tad rougher than he would have liked. With a shaky breath, Charlotte sagged against the cabinets, looking at the warped floor.

"Kellevra was crouching right there before I grabbed him." Still leaning against the frame, Kurisu looked to the floor." Tate," he said quietly.

"He... block." As sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder, Steven helped Ace to his feet before looking around the blackened kitchen; it was charred, yet there was no sign of having put it out.

"This looks impossible," Steven said.

"If the fire department sees this, they'll ask questions we can't answer." Out from under the sink, Charlotte grabbed a red cylinder, pulling the pin before she released a cloud of white foam over the stove and the rest of the charred kitchen, burying the evidence under a layer of mayhem.

"It was a grease fire," she babbled, her voice shaking as she gestured wildly.

"We were frying dinner and it just got away from us."

"Outside," Kurisu panted.

"Cough." Turning, he led the way, his steps carrying him out the front door just as the first fire wagon turned the corner. His legs giving out at the edge of the porch, he doubled over upon collapsing onto the lawn, a spray of dark blood erupting from his mouth and soaking into the soil.

"Kurisu! You're bleeding!" Charlotte cried out, rushing to his side. With a trembling palm pressed against the grass, Kurisu gripped the roots, pulling Chi from the earth, drinking it greedily to stave off his condition." Buji," he choked out, wiping his mouth.

"Just... tired." Lifting his hand, Kurisu grimaced at the withered grass, staring at the dead patch for a long moment." Suman." After a lengthy lecture on the dangers of unattended cooking oil, the firefighters departed, leaving the family alone in the dark, silent living room that smelled like wet sumi ash. Wrapped in a blanket, Ace sat on the couch, staring at the floor, while Kellevra picked silently at a loose thread on the rug.

Kurisu sat in the armchair, with his Zanshin settling over the two boys, watching the Ki swirling inside them, his head throbbing in time with his pulse.

"Are you sure you don't need a doctor?" Steven asked. Leaning back against the cushion, Kurisu shook his head.

"Rest heals." He looked at the two boys." Ace... Kaki nari," Kurisu stated." Kellevra Doki nari."

"How?" Steven asked.

"We're normal. We don't have... whatever you have." Tapping his chest, Kurisu spoke into his phone.

"Exposure to Reiki changes the body. Especially those who are young."

"Like radiation?" Ace asked.

"I know not the whole of it," Kurisu admitted softly.

"When you sleep, you absorb the power." Charlotte stared at him.

"You think you turned them into this?" Closing his eyes for a moment, Kurisu exhaled.

"It is merely a supposition."

"Can we turn it off?" Steven asked. Kurisu shook his head.

"Can a forged blade return to raw iron?" With obvious effort, he forced himself to stand, walking over to Ace and placing a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Control. Ware teach control." He looked at Kellevra.

"Without instruction, they burn. They break. Ware teach survival."

"So that's it?" Steven asked, rubbing his temples.

"We just become a family of mutants?" Looking past the island at the warped floor in the kitchen, Kurisu felt a cold knot tighten in his chest. Unbidden, the bonfire of energy from the day on the mountain returned to his thoughts. Are all these abnormalities somehow connected? he mused, his jaw tightening. Was that presence searching for me? Was it somehow responsible for the rifts? But dwelling on it changed nothing." Sube nashi," he replied softly. It could not be helped.