how a star burns
notes: a relationship (mostly) in chronological order - 1sentence theme set alpha
Comfort Kikko hugs her mother and sister goodbye in the evening, suitcase packed and chaperone waiting by the portal; Jiro greets his adoptive father and Emi over breakfast, suit ironed and work files stacked by the door.
Kiss She isn’t quite ready for wedding bells and kissing in front of a crowd, but finding a consort to ascend the Makai throne is a necessary test and…well, maybe the idea of a partner is a little romantic…
Soft His first impression of her witch outfit was that there is just so much of it– taffeta ruffled and pleated and tucked, stars and snow-white lace, sparkling ribbons and bows and pillow-like floss– but his second is how it’s just as soft as her sense of kindness.
Pain Kikko squeaks when he grabs her ankle (are ALL earth men this rude and handsy?!) and hauls her through the window and over his lap into the passenger seat, bumping her limbs into plastic and leather and– ohhh, she chokes, that was most definitely not the car.
Potatoes The way to the heart is through the stomach and she will begin by learning his culture first, even if it means giving up western food for rice and tamagoyaki.
Rain Jiro will blame his white knuckles on swerving the kaiju’s acidic slime falling from the sky, not on her probing questions that he doesn’t want to answer.
Chocolate No one who orders an espresso con panna likes coffee for the bitterness, so she sneaks sugar into the bureau’s drink cabinet under the guise of her own partiality.
Happiness The Superhuman Bureau is not a lax job and she never again makes the mistake of puttering around her apartment to watch the morning news, torn afterward between the awkward embarrassment and problematic thrill of Jiro Hitoyoshi seeing her in negligee.
Telephone His job demands the roughest hours, such as spying on the Public Security Force in the dead of night only to get up for work again at six, and it feels wrong to disturb the witch when she’s undoubtedly asleep so he puts down the phone and asks Emi to come instead.
Ears The Radio Wave woman smiles gently and it’s almost enough to make his ears heat; a glare scorches the side of his face milliseconds after his unprofessionalism, and he thankfully breaks his eyes away to the distraction clinging on his leg.
Name It flusters her and Jiro feels just a little bit selfish for rolling out the vowels and softening the consonants, completely dropping honorifics like he’s known her for seven years rather than seven months, but then again he has always been greedy when it comes to her goodness.
Sensual After Father leaves Jiro’s bedroom citing the need for more spare parts, Raito glances at his guitar and scoffs, “Romanza? I hope that’s not directed at me,” to which Jiro only snaps Of course not.
Death He lunges and Kikko hastily turns her face away, but the sickening snap of bone giving way to steel still burns itself into her mind, as does the stench of blood and rotting fur.
Sex Kikko can’t look the cashier in the eye as she slides a scandalously covered magazine next to her ramen and instant-miso packets, but after shooing Ullr outside her apartment and double-locking the door and closing the blinds, she manages to pluck up the courage to crack it open– only to promptly slam it shut, cheeks burning.
Touch She comes out of the bath wearing nothing but a too-small towel and he doesn’t even blink; Kikko is mildly disappointed– stupid her, assuming too much again—and magicks the fabric as a barrier, even though she knows he will never look or touch.
Weakness Selling Earth-chan’s public image is one of the Bureau’s more underhanded designs and Jiro has never complained about it before, but it is no surprise that he ends up skulking on her doorstep under the guise of tomorrow’s paperwork when Fuurouta finds him.
Tears Action over preparation when lives are at stake, her other scolds, and Kikko launches herself directly towards the satellite girl as Jiro’s sharp command of Stop, Kikko! fades behind the crackle of electricity and crying, utterly ignored.
Speed They are an efficient duo on the battlefield now, the barest flick of sparkles teleporting his favored bayonet to Equus in the blink of an eye, and he assures himself it will always be like this.
Wind The Infernal Queen brings a breeze of machine oil and death, a far deadlier risk than anything before and Jiro can suddenly picture a plasma beam burning through ribbons and flesh (and Emi is his support unit instead).
Freedom “Freedom? Peace? Justice? The reason why superhumans fight is mostly one of those three,” the skull intones, and Kikko’s world is rocked by the familiarity in its words.
Life There is so, so much (too much, her other says icily) blood dripping off the walls and examination tables, and then Kikko’s right heel squelches in something too dark to see– the ensuing rush of cold oblivion is welcomed with open arms.
Jealousy Muscles tense as he strains over the railing, fingers digging into a thin wrist as something bitter curls in his chest, the same something that demands he haul her up the stairs and glue her to his side so she would STOP chasing a murderous criminal, can’t she see it is treachero- wrong!?
Hands The devil queen resists the urge to do something unseemly or nonsensical like holding hands with Ji- (Jiro? Yes, it must be Jiro); her partner’s flaw is naivety, and though she loves him for his open heart, she must be powerful and deadly to protect him from idle threats.
Taste Jiro half-heartedly chases Claude over the span of two months, not entirely willing to disagree with the superhuman’s cause…and not at all willing to watch a black-spun glove pull the other man to safety, the sour taste building in his mouth each time.
Devotion “All I seek is to protect Jiro-san,” she snaps, and his heart stutters over, only over, guilt (because the other option is shyness, and that emotion does not belong tangled here in the carnage and riots tonight).
Forever A youkai’s promise is heavy and he intends to keep his word this time, so Jiro packs a small bag in the middle of the night, slips past the house alarms, and disappears into Shibuya before the revision law ceases to be a distraction.
Blood It has been practically a year since Kikko last saw him, but the bruises and scrapes peppering her knees are immediately forgiven and forgotten when he calls her name exactly the same as he always has.
Sickness He is never, ever drinking in the entertainment district again, Jiro viciously swears in the morning, even if it was to get out of buying something else at the Moulin Rouge and he gags with another heave over the trashcan.
Melody She takes the same train home at precisely six every evening, the clacking wheels hiding Jiro’s sigh as he leans against the car door- which doesn’t, unfortunately, hide the sight of his scarf.
Star Haruka won’t stop talking about far-away galaxies and lovers and freedom, a sentiment he can’t understand when affection has always been a chain pulling him down to earth.
Home “Go FREELOAD off of that little wit- DON’T YOU DARE RIP OUT MY CHARGING CABLES, HITOYOSHI JIRO!”
Confusion Kikko doesn’t know what happened– Is this somehow her fault? Or was it an inevitable conclusion?– but the Bureau’s aimless goals are the only way to snatch a glimpse of golden eyes, so she stays despite the frosty air and militant shift.
Fear The helmets are alarming on a base level, but Jiro’s mind blanks at the fact that she has sunk to such corruptive methods and doesn’t even register Earth-chan’s questions as the satellite hauls his body away- Kikko is supposed to be a righteous superhuman, one of the purest, and an uneasy shard wedges in his chest at how this is his fault again.
Lightning/Thunder She yelps at the bullet’s sting, wand sailing away with the gun crack still ringing in her eardrums, and Zumanan’s rumbling drowns out an almost inaudible snarl that Kikko isn’t quite sure she heard.
Bonds “Kind of glad, huh…” Jiro mumbles, coffee suddenly too bitter without whipped cream, I wish I could say the same.
Market …Rising oil prices continue to climb-, the newscaster drones as Kikko dices an onion and slides it into the curry boiling on the stove, -due to the new resistance of -, she can’t waste magic on mundane chores anymore, -native creatures from the Middle Eastern region, as leaked by our source…
Technology Ice may have frozen Koma’s body for 300 years and time may have marched relentlessly on without her, but some things are like glancing at a dusty mirror– there is a girl too in love to care about the world, and a boy too stupid for believing he can fix that.
Gift “I’m not a criminal,” echoes childishly even to his own ears, and the smarting in his cheek amplifies the humiliation of being caught empty-handed in front of worried brown eyes.
Smile Kikko doesn’t wave or smile when their eyes accidentally lock as the theater screen flickers; he glances away first and she feels opportunity slipping from her fingers, but this is not the correct time or place for anything other than the past.
Innocence There are nights when he wakes up gasping and sweating, boxers sticky like a teenager, and Jiro wants to sink down and assimilate with the alleyway trash, shame eating him for dreaming about gentle fingers and red antiseptic when a beast shouldn’t ask for anything other than hate.
Completion “You promised,” Emi reminds him softly, rooting him in place– yes, he did, and look at how fast he has already failed.
Clouds Ultimapolis travels underwater for four months and Kikko is sick of flying over the ocean, seeing only the occasional lonesome cloud and herself reflected off its vacant surface.
Sky Familiar arms pry him out of the pilot’s seat, the cheerful blue outside his windshield erupting in flaming destruction and shock waves, and there is a heady mixture of annoyance and relief at the distant chime of magic- even after all this, she still tries to save his worthless life?
Heaven Jiro throws himself in front of Emi for his own sake– his very existence owes a debt, but there is only one set of hands that he wishes to crack open his chest and rip out the bloody strands of calamity and gratification.
Hell Everything is moving too fast– her chain whip, Jiro’s body leaping in its path– and her heart stops, limbs numb, mind screaming she’ll kill him she’ll killhimkillhimkillhim–
Sun An inferno blasts barely a foot away from her face, heat grazing Kikko’s cheek before spiraling high toward the ceiling and bursting in a shower of sparks too much like the shattering of her heart.
Moon Energy spreads into the cold, thin atmosphere, higher than the wispy water condensations and below a cratered moon and the burning light of distant suns– the last reminds it of something important, but the thought slips away with its diffusing particles.
Waves The portal flares like a solar beam, barely rippling the ocean as it winks out of existence, and Kikko feels adrift in the freedom and loss carried on an abnormally warm breeze.
Hair Some days it is tempting to move on and find another purpose, perhaps a new love or a new life, but Kikko puts down the scissors and picks up the brush instead; she will wait, because anything worthwhile requires effort, and she is nothing if not stubborn.
Supernova Three years makes her impatient and clumsy, boots scrabbling wildly down the crater’s slope, but it does not stop her from flinging herself into a hot chest and they collapse into each other, heartache melting away with the whispered I missed you buried in her neck.
