The flames of the sacred fire dance like nothing that Kenma has ever seen in his life and he sits there in front of them, transfixed by the colour, and the flicker of something more that he sees in the fire.
He's heard stories about the volcano god; he's made Kuroo tell him each and every tale that he remembers, then turned to the others when Kuroo could not think of any more. He knows that the beliefs of the Flame Tribe don't align with his own, but he's long since stopped believing that one has to be right over the other. Perhaps the volcano god exists, Kenma thinks to himself, just as his own gods do.
"You keep staring at the fire like that, and it might consume you itself," Kuroo murmurs, resting his hand on Kenma's shoulder. He pulls his mask off, just so he can flash Kenma a crooked smile. "And then I would be incredibly upset. I don't want you to end up an offering to the volcano god."
"Is that something that you do?" Kenma asks, proud not only of the fact that he keeps his voice even, but that he manages to sound a little bored. "Sacrifice people to your god?"
Kuroo laughs. "Not for a long time. You can relax. I think the volcano god might have lost their appetite for flesh. It doesn't seem to make a difference, these days."
Kenma draws a breath. The tribe, from what he can tell, seems to have accepted him now. There were a few who didn't, who refused to. Those who were older, who thought themselves powerful enough to challenge their chieftan's decisions.
He doesn't see them around any more. He hasn't asked any questions, and Kuroo hasn't volunteered any answers either. Kenma wonders just how Kuroo knows that the volcano god isn't interested in flesh these days, but the thought makes him a little uncomfortable. There's still a lot that he needs to learn here, and it doesn't matter that the people around him live their lives to different rules to those that he has been raised with himself. Kenma knows that they're good people. Given time, he thinks, he could come to like them.
Kuroo sits beside him, an arm wrapped around Kenma's shoulder, drawing him close.
"If you listen carefully," he murmurs right into Kenma's ear, "you'll hear the volcano god speaking to you through the fire."
Shutting his eyes, Kenma listens. He can hear the crackling, the sound of others speaking around the fire.
He feels Kuroo's breath against his ear before he hears the whispered, "This is your home, too."
Kenma elbows him gently, but find that he's smiling.
FILL: Team Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, G
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word count: 449
remix of
The flames of the sacred fire dance like nothing that Kenma has ever seen in his life and he sits there in front of them, transfixed by the colour, and the flicker of something more that he sees in the fire.
He's heard stories about the volcano god; he's made Kuroo tell him each and every tale that he remembers, then turned to the others when Kuroo could not think of any more. He knows that the beliefs of the Flame Tribe don't align with his own, but he's long since stopped believing that one has to be right over the other. Perhaps the volcano god exists, Kenma thinks to himself, just as his own gods do.
"You keep staring at the fire like that, and it might consume you itself," Kuroo murmurs, resting his hand on Kenma's shoulder. He pulls his mask off, just so he can flash Kenma a crooked smile. "And then I would be incredibly upset. I don't want you to end up an offering to the volcano god."
"Is that something that you do?" Kenma asks, proud not only of the fact that he keeps his voice even, but that he manages to sound a little bored. "Sacrifice people to your god?"
Kuroo laughs. "Not for a long time. You can relax. I think the volcano god might have lost their appetite for flesh. It doesn't seem to make a difference, these days."
Kenma draws a breath. The tribe, from what he can tell, seems to have accepted him now. There were a few who didn't, who refused to. Those who were older, who thought themselves powerful enough to challenge their chieftan's decisions.
He doesn't see them around any more. He hasn't asked any questions, and Kuroo hasn't volunteered any answers either. Kenma wonders just how Kuroo knows that the volcano god isn't interested in flesh these days, but the thought makes him a little uncomfortable. There's still a lot that he needs to learn here, and it doesn't matter that the people around him live their lives to different rules to those that he has been raised with himself. Kenma knows that they're good people. Given time, he thinks, he could come to like them.
Kuroo sits beside him, an arm wrapped around Kenma's shoulder, drawing him close.
"If you listen carefully," he murmurs right into Kenma's ear, "you'll hear the volcano god speaking to you through the fire."
Shutting his eyes, Kenma listens. He can hear the crackling, the sound of others speaking around the fire.
He feels Kuroo's breath against his ear before he hears the whispered, "This is your home, too."
Kenma elbows him gently, but find that he's smiling.