The Storm Rider

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto!

A/N: I've been writing this since November. 8D )happy with the way it turned out(

Vocab! Otouto is little brother, okaa-san is mother.

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Typhoon Adelaide

The little village clung stubbornly to the shore as it done for centuries. The wind tore through its streets and the waters threatened its docks, but the little village stuck its tongue out at them and like a petulant child squatted next to the ocean.

The little village of Konohagakure.

It was a pretty gross misnomer, to be sure. There were no trees in the Leaf Village to bear leaves. The winds made sure that no seed ever took root. The people's occupation, livelihood, hobby was the sea. Fishing, pearl-diving, swimming were the done thing. The villagers enjoyed a pleasantly fickle existence—interrupted by the storms.

Konohagakure had, on average, thirteen major typhoons each year and that excluded the intermittent squalls. The remaining days were the mild days, when the waves would let the local fishermen mount them. Those were the days mothers would herd flocks of children to the tidal pools to teach them swimming, and to never touch the red coral, or poke-y urchins.

The local eccentric, a fabulously old man who was only known as Sandaime and had been around since before anyone cared to remember had taken to naming each typhoon after foreign places. The older villagers humored him, the younger folk worshipped him.

Sandaime was the only one who knew the lore of the Storm Rider.

During the typhoons, when no one would venture outdoors, when fish were gutted and cleaned as a means of family communion, when the sky boiled overhead and the sea coiled next to them, the Storm Rider could be seen.

He—Sandaime ensured the town of the enigma's masculinity—would appear as a dark blot on the horizon, buffeted by wind and waves, taming them with unequalled skill and luck as could not be believed. The people of Konohagakure had come to accept him as a normal anomaly, the exciting element in an otherwise mundane life.

A few months ago, the reporter that had come to do a weather special on the hamlet had thought otherwise.

Young Miss Karin—aided by a besotted Naruto (the village idiot) and his seething-with-jealousy ex-boyfriend Sai (the resident artisan) who'd dragged along his best friend Sakura (the local shrew) for the ride—had chased the Rider. The whole village had watched passively, torn between curiosity and disapproval until the matter heaved a sigh and resolved itself. Karin and Sakura fell in love and moved to the city, while Sai got Naruto on the rebound.

I'll come back to look for the Rider later, Karin had claimed.

It's the gods' will that the Rider remain unknown, Sandaime had huffed.

The gusts of wind rattled the second floor windows of the Uchiha compound. The youngest boy of the clan leader, Sasuke, glanced out at the ocean as he fastened the latches more securely. Through the sheets of water from the sky he saw a black dot on the sheets of water of the sea.

He lingered longer than necessary, eyes locked on the Storm Rider. He gasped softly as a mammoth wall of sea water crashed over the figure—and breathed out slowly in relief as it reappeared on the crest of the next wave. What panache, he thought, what incredible skill! I wouldn't mind being in the midst of a storm if I was sure to survive. Lucky bastard.

"Otouto!" his brother's low, imperious voice summoned him away from the sight. "Okaa-san needs you in the attic!"

Sasuke smiled ruefully at the Rider.

"Until next time," he murmured, and left to his chores.

Typhoon Barcelona

The windows of the second floor were rattling again.

"I'll fix them when this dies down," growled Fugaku. The head of the household wasn't being brusque—he simply growled like a bird caws; it was his method of communication. "Sasuke, go tie them down, son."

The son obliged, and waited for the figure to appear. He wasn't disappointed.

"One of these days," he muttered after a particularly tricky encounter, "Something's going to happen to you, and you'll be gone without a trace."

The thought saddened him. He wished he could know more about the mysterious monarch of the sea, if only so that his legend would survive his death.

Itachi drifted past his brother, and touched the younger brunet's shoulder lightly.

"It's an awe-inspiring sight," he said of the storm. Sasuke smiled at him, and turned back to the Rider.

"Awe-inspiring," he agreed.

Typhoon Cancun

He was insane. Surely, he was insane.

He locked the side door behind him, winced as the gale whipped his face, and gathered his overcoat closer, umbrella rendered useless by the wind.

He was going to the shore in a storm. He wasn't just insane, he was suicidal.

And yet, here he was. The monstrous waves kept him a good twenty feet behind the high tide sign, and he squinted into the distance as if he could see terribly far.

Hail assaulted him as malevolent, stinging missiles. Raindrops coated his face in a thick layer of liquid, dribbling into the front of his jacket. Lightning forked behind him, striking the rods on top of the bell tower; it struck before him, tearing holes in the heaving sea. Thunder bellowed all around him, and when the drums of the heavens stopped for a breather, the thousands of smaller drums—raindrops colliding with earth—thudded into the ground. The air twisted itself around and over, wailing like a banshee under the knife, and he couldn't feel his own heart in his chest.

The cold was numbing, and there was nothing more to be said about it.

For some time, he stood there. Scanning the horizon for the Storm Rider. Occasionally he'd catch brief glimpses of dark shapes that might've been him, but there was no way to be sure. Standing by the shore was a disadvantage, and he knew it. He could see the Rider better from the safety of his own sturdy house.

Only he wasn't there to see. He was there to be seen.

Eventually, he went back home. He didn't know whether or not he'd accomplished what he'd set out to do, but that didn't dull the exhilaration he felt as his family pulled him back into their snug embrace, scolding and loving.

As the storm faded, the Rider used the swells to get to the shore. He slammed his surfboard into the sand and stood in the same spot Sasuke had stood, only gazing at the village instead of the sea.

"And just who the hell are you?" he muttered under his breath, fair hair clinging to his skull, pale eyes narrowing in suspicion. A smirk touched his lips with a playful brush of its fingers.

"I think I'd like to find out."

Typhoon Denmark

Sasuke glared at the expanse of water stretching away from him.

"You saw me after all," he mused, "And now you're not on the waves? What the hell?"

A voice spoke up behind him, a drawling tenor. "Who ya talking to?"

Sasuke whipped around. A young man stood on the sands in only torn up denim shorts, despite the deluge, the hail, despite the cold. The wind howled through his hair (Sasuke's crown was shielded by bandana and hood) and lavender eyes raked curiously over the Uchiha's form. A long board was propped up at his side, a great teak wood thing painted in blues and grays and tipped in metal.

To his credit, Sasuke didn't lose it when he realize he was looking at a legend. He said (very suavely, I might add), "You." And then a hail stone the size of a quail's egg hit him square in the eye.

"I'm Suigetsu," he said after helping Sasuke back up. There was laughter smothered in the sentence.

"You're the Storm Rider," Sasuke said accusingly. He wondered why it sounded like the boy had committed a crime. Maybe it was the shock from the stone. Maybe he was appalled something that good looking should spend so much time in such danger.

Suigetsu made a who, me? face and the brunet poked his chest. "You're the Storm Rider," he said irately.

"If it pleases you," the Rider purred. Something in his tone hinted at things Sasuke wasn't very keen on at the moment.

"I've been watching you."

"And I've been watching you," Suigetsu nodded.

The casual statement threw the villager. "Wha—huh?"
"You came to watch me in the last typhoon," Suigetsu grinned, "My interest was piqued."

Sasuke harrumphed and turned back to the ocean. A warm breath slit through the cold air surrounding his ear.

"Do you want to ride with me?"

Stupidly—or wisely, your choice—Sasuke said, "No."

And the Storm Rider had bounded past him, throwing himself on his board and throwing the board on the waves and the waves throwing them back.

Sasuke tutted in annoyance. "Show off."

His eyes, though? They showed admiration.

He stood and watched from the shore only a few minutes before walking back home. Pride emanated from him and stained the air with cyan colored hubris.

He'd met the Storm Rider. He'd met Suigetsu.

Typhoon England

All things considered, it was a very unfair arrangement.

"You're out there surfing, and I'm here freezing."

"You think it's warmer on the waves?"

"I bet it's more exciting."

"You wanna ride with me?"

"No." The first time had been a mistake. This time it was petulance. If he gave in, it felt like failing a test. The Storm Rider seemed to be ascertaining something when he asked the question, and no was clearly the correct answer.

A shrug. Again, the running. Belly flopping onto the ruthless waves. Being absorbed in the rain—almost. Sasuke's trudge back home, hawking glory to the air.

From the second floor window, he watched.

Typhoon Florida

Perhaps it was chance Perhaps it was destiny. Neither of them could tell, but they were quite sure that they had somehow ended up friends.

"I brought you pork rolls."

"I'm supposed to eat them in the rain?"

"Take them home. Warm them up. You do know how to make a fire?"

"You think I'm slow?"

"Of course not."

"Good."

"Just a little stupid," Sasuke said. Suigetsu grinned and growled, and, slamming the ceramic box into the sand, covered it with his shorts.

"Have you no shame?" Sasuke asked, averting his eyes. Apparently, surfing didn't call for underwear.

"I am a sexy, clothesless god of the sea," Suigetsu claimed, "And you who is afraid to look upon me in my naked glory are a sinner!"

The lightning struck the sea poignantly. Sasuke rolled his eyes.

"Your wrath missed me."

"I'm working on my aim, alright?"

A few minutes of silence. And then:

"Do you wanna ride with me?"

"No."

A nod. A run. A god on the ocean. A sinner watching in affectionate awe.

Typhoon Gion

"You're late."

Sasuke covered his dribbling nose with a gloved hand. "I'm sig," he said.

"And you sound like an idiot."

The dark haired thing glared at him. "I'b sig, you jerg."

"A cold?"

"No, genidal wards. Of gouse a gold."

"The water will clear up those sinuses. Well, the fear of being on the water will. Wanna ride?"

"No."

Suigetsu sighed, as though Sasuke was a stubborn child refusing to eat his asparagus, and leaned into his face. He peered into the dark eyes and frowned.

"You should be home. In bed. With broth, and tissues, and icky medicine. Go away."

"No, I wash planning on sdicking around to wadch deh wind."

"Sarcasm in that voice only cracks me up."

Sasuke glared until his eyes ached, but Suigetsu just wouldn't drop his stupid grin.

"I liked the pork rolls. Did you make them?"

"Mm-hmmm."

"Really?"

"Yesh."

"That voice really cracks me up."

The Uchiha pushed the Rider away.

"Jerg."

Typhoon Helsinki

Sasuke failed to show up.

Suigetsu waited so long the storm was on its way out before he hit the hissing swells. He was worried, and angry, and scared, and worried, and snubbed, and apprehensive, and worried.

He put no heart into conquering his kingdom and kept toppling off his board. Giving up, he sat in the wet sand wondering how one boy could push a god from his pedestal into the crushing embrace of the sea.

Typhoon Ireland

In the nauseating cold on the shore, in the wicked welts of rain, there was a curious scene. One boy was hugging another fiercely, breathing in the brunet's scent and pressing his body to his own bare chest until the brunet mewled in protest.

"You knew I was sick, it was only natural it would've escalated into a fever! Why worry, why fret, and why strangle me when I finally come back?"

"Who said I was worried?" Suigetsu retorted sulkily. "I just wanted to hold you. It's a crime now, hugging a friend?"

Sasuke's basalt eyes softened into two puddles of pure love, and he pulled the Storm Rider back into an embrace.

"No," he said gruffly, "It's not a crime."

Suigetsu squeezed harder than even he realized he could. "Good." His breath tickled the Uchiha's neck. "Good."

Typhoon Jamaica

You're not going to go out on the waves?" Sasuke asked ten minutes after the time when he'd normally have rejected the offer for a ride on the waves. His family, realizing that they weren't going to be able to stop him from venturing forth in the storms, had invested in a new set of plastic rain wear for him. The dark blue accented his creamy skin well, and did a much better job of keeping him dry. The chill was something he'd just have to suffer through.

Suigetsu was lying down o his surf board, abused by rain. He waved a lazy hand at the sky.

"The storm's got no heart in it; it's like it doesn't want to be hear. If the storm's got no heart, then I've got no heart."

Sasuke nodded and began to walk back. Suigetsu slid into a fitful nap, and nearly burnt himself in the sun before he woke up to chase the last scudding clouds to the horizon.

The Storm Rider had just skipped his first storm in decades.

Typhoon Kolkotta

"Suigetsu?" Sasuke asked tentatively. The Rider stopped polishing his board and turned to look at his friend. "Yeah?"

"You're not exactly…human, are you?"

The boy stood up and stretched luxuriously. Rain water tricked over his shoulders and chest into his shorts, emerging again at his knees.

"What the hell gave you that idea?"

"Well, most nineteen year olds don't have snowy white hair."

"I could've dyed it."

"Most nineteen year olds have parents who would stop them from heading out into every storm on a piece of wood."

"I could be an orphan."
"Most nineteen year olds don't live at sea."

"I could circle around the bay and into a cove."

Sasuke switched irritably. "Sandaime said you've always been here. Most nineteen year old stay nineteen for only a year."

"My father could've done this before me."

"You just said you were an orphan!"

"I said I might be. And even orphans have fathers, you know."

Sasuke snorted and crossed his arms, turning away. Suigetsu walked to him and slid his arms around his waist. He put his chin on the Uchiha's shoulder and pulled him close, bestowing a feathery kiss on the boy's ear.

And then their friendship shattered into a thousand pieces as something bolder and hotter and far more complicated was born. Sasuke turned around and on Suigetsu, pushing him down, pinning him to the heavy, water logged sand in love unleashed. He found the Rider's lips and kissed them, hard. Their noses pressed together and hurt and fireworks were going off behind tightly clamped eyelids but nothing mattered when they got their first taste of each other.

Sasuke pulled away. "Most nineteen year olds don't taste like that," he said, "Like water."

Suigetsu rolled over, and Sasuke was on bottom, the Rider's knees digging into his thighs. "How many nineteen year olds have you kissed, to compare against?"

"Just you," Sasuke said dreamily, lifting a hand and dragging it along Suigetsu's jaw.

The Rider stood and pulled the brunet up with him. "The storm's peaking," he said, "Do you wanna ride with me?"

"Okay."

The elements dulled a bit, suddenly, and the not-silence rung loudly in their ears. Suigetsu turned to Sasuke with the widest grin he'd ever grinned. "Get the board, then."

Sasuke got the board.

"Take off your clothes."

"But—!"

"Trust me on this."

Sasuke trusted him, and stood shortly thereafter in his clean white boxer-briefs, soaked to the bone. Suigetsu grabbed his hand and they waded out together. The brunet slammed the board onto the water and the fair haired lad lifted him by the waist onto the longboard, clambering on after him.

They sat together.

Rider and boy.

Suigetsu and Sasuke.

Suigetsu's arms snaked under Sasuke's and up to his shoulders, glassy nails gripping tightly.

"Do you really want to ride?"

"Yes, yes I do."

He laughed happily and leaned forward, pushing Sasuke's chest to the wind and paddling with his arms.

"Help me out, then!" he yelled, "Paddle to the waves!"

They paddles over the swells near the shore—which had markedly slacked off—and sat on the stiller waters. Suigetsu's lips found Sasuke's ear again.

"You absolutely sure?"

"Ask me again and I will push you off this board."

Another laugh. Another kiss. Another order.

"Let's surf, then!"

As if on command, a huge wall of water rose up behind them. Suigetsu hauled Sasuke to his feet, and pressed him to his own body as they crouched on the board, balancing precariously as the waved curled over them.

"It's a tube!" Suigetsu hollered, "You're gonna love this!"

Sasuke loved it. He loved the tunnel of dark grey water, he loved the feel of the wood beneath his freezing feet, too cold to even be numb, he loved the wind spitting in his face. most of all, he loved Suigetsu, standing behind him and holding him safe.

Instead of heading back out for another wave Suigetsu headed for the shore.

"Well?"

Sasuke slipped into his plastic parka and gathered his underclothes.

"You can't be human."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah." Sasuke leaned in to kiss him. "No way can any human of any age control the sea."

Suigetsu scuffed the sand in mock modesty. "I did say I was a god."

They laughed. They kissed. They parted ways.

Typhoon Luxembourg

"So, what are you?"

The surfer cuddled him fiercely. "Are you ever gonna let it go?"

"Highly unlikely."

"I'm a rain master, a demigod. Sub-division, spirit."

Sasuke nuzzled his neck. The rain pounded their bodies, whining for them to get up and play. "Hmm-hmm?"

"A storm spirit."

"Hmm-hmm."

"Satisfied?"

"Not really."

Suigetsu licked his nose. "Not my problem. Let's ride."

They rode.

A storm spirit. A spirit catcher.

Typhoon Madrid

They didn't know it yet, but it was the last typhoon. Never again would Konohagakure face a storm of this magnitude.

Because Suigetsu was all out of wind and water.

Because his spirit had been caught by a black haired boy with a warm heart. A warm heart brimming with love had knitted a net and tightened it around the Storm Rider.

"So how old are you?"

"Really old, I guess?"

"And you'll always stay like this?"

Suigetsu looked himself up and down. The raindrops that struck his body were making themselves felt for the first time. He could feel the cold, and Sasuke's heat, and the wetness of the world he lived in.

Slowly but surely, he was turning human.

"Not anymore, no. I'll start aging. We'll grow old together."

Because he'd swapped his heart with his power and otherworldliness for Sasuke's human one. Because he'd let the boy become his world. It was a small world, to be sure, with only Sasuke in it. But it would grow over time. He would meet more people. They would add to his world.

"Come home. Meet my family. My best friend, Naruto. My brother, Itachi."

And he'd gladly trade in his storms for them.

"I love you, Suigetsu."

He wasn't a Storm Rider anymore.

"You mean the world to me."

He was a lover, a human, and somehow, he was still a god.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Apologies if I got some stormy tidbit wrong. But if it suits the scene, I probably won't correct it.

;-; )tears of joy(

IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL.

I'M A WORD BENDER.

)egosplosion(