Chapter Text
The morning sun peeking through the windows did little to warm the heavy tension resting on Api’s shoulders.
He sat at the kitchen table, picking aimlessly at his breakfast. The red cap resting on his head felt like lead, casting a shadow over his eyes. The aftermath of the past week’s incidents—the strange arsonist terrorizing the neighborhood, the midnight burn marks, the exhaustion—hung over him like smoke. It hadn't been a villain; it had been him, sleepwalking under severe stress, his newly discovered powers reacting to his suppressed anxiety.
"You're going to turn that egg into charcoal if you keep staring at it," Air murmured from across the table, leaning his cheek on his palm. His blue eyes tracked the restless twitch in his twin's shoulders.
"I'm fine, Air," Api snapped softly, forcing a bright, albeit strained, grin onto his face. He shoved a piece of toast into his mouth. "See? Perfectly fine!"
Air didn't call him out on the lie, deciding to give his brother space before confronting him later in private. He took a sip of his warm milk and quietly slipped out of the kitchen.
Api let his fake smile drop the second Air was gone, staring down at his trembling hands.
The skin of his knuckles was scraped raw, stained with charcoal from the previous night's disaster. He squeezed his fists tight, waiting for the trembling to stop, but the heat hummed just beneath his skin—restless, volatile, and entirely out of his control.
He sat there in a deep thought when the quiet footsteps entering the room instantly made his blood run cold.
A beat of silence passed before he gathered the courage to look up.
Petir stood in the doorway. To Api, his eldest brother looked as imposing and perfect as ever—sharp red eyes, an unyielding posture, and an aura that screamed absolute discipline. Petir was the baseline Api had been desperately trying to reach, the standard he felt he had just completely disgraced.
"Api," Petir said, his voice unusually quiet as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "Take a breath, alright? You haven't been sleeping, and you're running yourself into the ground."
For a split second, the knot in Api's chest loosened. Hearing that calm, steady tone from his eldest brother was rare, and he practically sank into it, letting his tight shoulders drop a fraction. A tiny flicker of hope flared up behind his ribs. Maybe Abang Hali wasn't going to tear into him after all. Maybe, just maybe, he actually understood.
"I'm fine," Api mumbled, his voice cracking slightly as he stared down at his thumbs. "Just... tired."
"You're not fine, and that's okay," Petir replied, his sharp red eyes holding none of their usual harshness. "Nobody expects you to handle all of this on your own without tripping up."
Api swallowed hard, his throat tight. He wanted to believe it so badly. He wanted to just sit here and let his big brother fix it, like Petir always did whenever things went wrong.
"I... I really tried to keep it under control, Abang," Api admitted quietly, staring at his lap. "I didn't mean to wake up outside…didn't mean for…."
"I know," Petir sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose before looking back up. But when he spoke next, that gentle edge in his voice vanished, replaced by the heavy, serious tone he used whenever things were getting dangerous. "But wanting to do the right thing doesn't fix a burned-down house, Api. What we have... we can't afford to be careless with it. When you let yourself get this overwhelmed, your flames aren't just your problem anymore. They become a risk to everyone."
Api froze. The tiny bit of comfort he'd just felt completely evaporated, replaced by a sick, heavy drop in his stomach.
"I can handle it!" Api blurted out, leaning forward as his voice cracked, panic clawing at his throat. "It was just a stupid accident, okay? I was just stressed!"
"It was three nights in a row," Petir said quietly, leaning across the table. He wasn't raising his voice, but the sheer weight behind his words made it so much worse. "You're running on empty, and it's getting dangerous. Look, if things keep going like this and you won't let anyone help you... I'm out of options. I can't just sit back and keep you here in Pulau Rintis if it means putting yourself and the others in harm's way."
Petir thought he was just giving him a reality check—trying to shock Api into taking a breath and letting his family carry the load. But to Api, those words sounded like a final sentence.
I can't keep you here in Pulau Rintis.
The words hit Api like a bucket of ice water, knocking the breath right out of his lungs. Petir was the eldest. With their parents away, what Abang Hali said was law. He had the power—and every right—to pick up the phone, call their parents, and have them tell Tok Aba to pack Api's bags. One sentence from Petir, and Api would be shipped right back home, locked away from his brothers, labeled a dangerous, broken failure who couldn't even control his own powers.
"You're... you're going to send me back?" Api whispered, his voice trembling with sheer terror.
Recognizing the sudden terror in Api's eyes, Petir blinked, instantly realizing his words had landed entirely wrong. "No, Api, that’s not what I—"
"You think I'm broken!" Api shouted, cutting him off as he slammed his hands on the table, sparks flying from his knuckles. The sheer fear of being cast out mutated instantly into defensive rage. "You sit there acting like you're some concerned brother when you're just waiting for an excuse to ship me away!"
"Api, quiet down and listen to me," Petir tried to interrupt, reaching a hand out across the table to ground him, but his firm tone only sounded like an absolute authority laying down the law.
"Don't touch me!" Api yelled, shoving his chair back so hard it screeched against the tiles as he stood up. "Why do you always do this?! You just stand there, looking down at me! You're disappointed in me! You've always been disappointed in me!"
Petir stood up quickly, his jaw tight. "I am trying to keep you safe—"
"Safe for who?!" Api’s voice cracked, raw and painful, as hot tears finally spilled over his eyelashes. "I almost burned down the neighborhood, Petir! I know what I did! I know! But don't sit there acting like you care—what do you even know about how I feel right now?!"
Api shoved his chair aside, stepping closer, his chest heaving as wild sparks began to dance across his knuckles.
"You're Abang Hali!" he sobbed, the words tumbling out in a messy, desperate rush. "You're always so calm, so focused, so damn perfect! You've never messed up like this! You've never hurt any of us—no matter how cold or distant you get, you'd never touch us! You don't have a clue what it's like to look down at your own hands and be absolutely terrified of what you are! You don't get it at all... you just want an excuse to get rid of me!"
Petir stayed completely silent, his extended hand dropping slowly to his side. His red eyes were wide, completely stunned into silence by the sheer magnitude of Api's words. But to Api, that stony silence was the ultimate confirmation. Petir wasn't denying it. He really was going to send him away.
The weight of his own words, combined with the suffocating terror of his eldest brother's silent judgment, crashed over Api. He couldn't stay in this room. He couldn't let Petir look at him like a monster for another second.
Unable to bear it, Api turned and bolted for the door.
"What happened!?" Angin shouted, having just rushed toward the kitchen alongside Tanah, drawn by the commotion.
Api slammed right through them, shoving Angin's shoulder out of the way as he tore down the hallway toward the front door.
"Api!" Angin shouted, instinctively stepping forward and extending his arm, a swirl of wind gathering around his palm to pull his younger brother back. "Wait—!"
"Let him go,"
Petir's voice was barely above a whisper, but it halted Angin instantly. The wind dissipated from Angin's hand. He turned to look at Petir in shock, but Petir was staring blankly at the wooden floorboards, his cap casting a deep shadow over his face. His hands, buried deep in his pockets, were trembling.
Tanah stopped right behind Angin, his expression deeply concerned. Air stood near the back of the group, his eyes wide with distress.
"What happened?" Tanah asked softly, looking from the open doorway back to Petir. "We heard the shouting... Petir?”
Petir didn't answer. He couldn't. His throat felt completely dry, locked tight around the truth he had never built up the courage to tell the younger ones.
Air stepped out from behind Tanah. Unlike the older two triplets, Air’s gaze wasn't on the path Api had vanished down—it was pinned directly on Petir. Air looked distressed, his calm demeanor entirely shattered. He was torn, his body instinctively leaning toward the door to chase after his twin, yet rooted to the spot by the sheer, heartbreaking tension radiating off Petir.
"Air," Petir said, his voice flat, hollow, and devoid of its usual sharp edge.
Air snapped his attention to him. "Abang Petir?"
Petir turned his head slightly, meeting Air's anxious gaze. The usual confident authority in his eyes was gone, replaced by a deep, weary pain that Air had never seen before.
"Go... go get him," Petir managed to say, still refusing to look up at any of them. "Check his usual spots... just make sure you both come back safe before curfew. Please."
The quiet please at the end caught all of them off guard.
Air didn't need to be told twice. Nodding sharply, he sprinted out the front door, leaving the three older triplets standing in the quiet house as he set off to find his twin.
Angin and Tanah stood frozen, staring at their brother with deep, aching concern, knowing all too well the haunting memory that Api’s words had just ripped wide open.
Petir stood completely still, staring downcast in silence.