A/N: Hello~ It's Magical EC back from the dead~ So this fanfic was born from my raging obsession with the series Inazuma Eleven. It was mostly inspired by a comic I found on zerochan, which I thought was just so cute. And, plus, I really wanted to write fanfiction for this small fandom (at least in America) and I had some other ideas and, well…this one shot was born. So…enjoy I guess~? Thanks for listening to me prattle on about stuff you don't care about! xD

If there's any confusion as to whenever "Shuuya" and "Shirou" are addressed, those are Gouenji and Fubuki respectively. Fubuki thinks of Gouenji as Gouenji in the beginning because they aren't as good friends then and it's not exactly "proper" to refer to people by their given name unless you're close friends, thus why he's Shuuya during the third storm (living together in high school) and fourth storm (lovers sharing an apartment). Also, I have no real idea as to what a Japanese apartment for two grown men looks like, so…I based it off American apartments. OTL, sorry. D:

Summary: Three times Fubuki and Gouenji weathered a storm together and one time they didn't.

Warnings: Nothing serious, really. Just really fluffy. Also, if you're opposed to or offended by shounen-ai/BL, then don't read this story, as it…is really just a shounen-ai story. Also, know that I am flame retardant, in case you feel the urge to tell me about how wrong shounen-ai is. C8

Disclaimer: I do not own i11. It belongs to the company Level-5. I'm just borrowing the characters. I also don't own this first scene, which is taken almost directly (I took a few liberties) from episode 59 of the anime. The second scene is also not mine, as I got it from this comic here: http : / www . zerochan . net / 334587 (also my inspiration, kthx). Title was also inspired by the song "Vox Populi" by 30 Seconds to Mars. So…yep, not technically mine either. xDD Doesn't make this a song fic, though. I just thought the title was fitting.

The first time it happened, they'd been caught unaware on the practice field next to the river. He should've known it would rain and should've avoided it. But then he would've had to face it alone. If he hadn't gone down to practice, all of this would never have happened. When he really thought about it, their first storm together was a disaster. However, in hindsight, he wouldn't have changed it, any of it. (Even though it meant revealing his weaknesses, he knew that he'd trusted the right person with them.)

Back then, he didn't want to know that the flame striker absolutely detested his vision of perfection. He didn't want to know how imperfect he was, how much he truly lacked without Atsuya there to help him. Most importantly, he didn't want Gouenji to know just how imperfect he truly was. How he needed Atsuya whenever he battled and couldn't even perform a simple shoot by himself. Because that was just how pathetic Fubuki Shirou was. (Of course, there were other, possibly more troubling things that he had to figure out too, but this had seemed like the most pressing at the time. There were other storms to sort those out with, though.)

Gouenji hadn't been particularly kind about the whole thing, but he had been there and he supposed that that was really all he could've asked for. His words at the time had been harsh and biting, but they'd been exactly what he needed, freeing him from that darkness which he'd feared. If Gouenji Shuuya hadn't been there, he wasn't sure how long he would've had to suffer through that darkness. He could only see how much Gouenji had done for him after the fact. At the time, the only thing he could thank Gouenji for was pulling him out of the rain. Now, he could thank him for so much more than that.

Their second storm was tamer, but maybe it was just because Gouenji was tamer. Maybe it was because he knew how frightened he was of storms now. But to be invited into Gouenji's room – being offered to spend the night with him – was to be a monumental step for them.

But for now, it was just an invite from a friend.

"I wonder what everyone else is doing." He calculated his words, picked them as carefully as possible to avoid rousing suspicion. The last thing he wanted was for Gouenji to catch on and realize what he was trying to do. If that wasn't obvious. "I'll just go take a loo –"

He couldn't help it. Going to check on everyone really had been his intent. Truly. But the rain and thunder would have it otherwise. At least he'd managed not to scream this time. Hands over his ears, eyes squeezed shut, as tight as possible. Everyone was going to leave. Everyone was going to leave him. The falling snow, right before his eyes, screaming himself hoarse for Atsuya, his mother, father, anyone to get out of the car, to wake up. He could try as hard as he wanted to shove those thoughts out of his head, but they obstinately refused to leave.

"Fubuki…"

"A-ahh...I'm sorry, Gouenji-kun. I already know that everyone won't disappear, but…" He gave a weak laugh, not even realizing where he was until he felt a pair of strong arms around him. That was definitely enough to shock him back into the present day. He'd just simply been trying to stumble to the door, how could he ever know that he'd end up here of all places, collapsed against Gouenji's chest, being shielded by him from the rain and onslaught of thoughts?

"You don't have to push yourself."

"…yeah."

He wasn't strong enough for this. Not yet. But that was why Gouenji was there. Why he'd always been there for him. Because he needed someone to lean on, and Gouenji would always lend him that shoulder, no matter what, no matter when.

It was the last storm he'd fear, at least for a little while. Nevertheless even that little while was nice, living without fear. Thankfully, during that storm, Shuuya (that name, which was now so natural, had been so weird at first) hadn't believed him when he said that he wasn't scared. Because he was. He was so shaken, but he wanted to know that for once, just once, he could survive a storm on his own and that he didn't have to rely on Shuuya all the time.

But every time lightning lit up the room and thunder crashed outside, he had to tell himself – a mantra really – that it was not an avalanche. That no one was going to die. That Shuuya was sleeping peacefully beside him and he didn't want to wake him up on accident. That there was still school to think about tomorrow and he should just go to sleep so that he would actually be able to stay awake. And yet, he had to stay his hands to keep from just grabbing at Shuuya and pull him close, hang onto him and make sure that he's really there and this isn't just all a very, very nice dream.

"Shirou, it's okay to be afraid." He could barely hear the soft murmur said into the pillow over the pitter-patter of thunder outside. "You don't have to prove anything to me."

"But I need to prove his to myse–" His own scream and a loud, loud clap of thunder cut him off. His arms wrapped around Shuuya, as if out of their own volition, and he buried his face in his shoulder. "Don't leave me, Shuuya."

Wait. What did he just say? Lightning lit up the room yet again, he could see the shock on Shuuya's face, and he flushed, looking down at the bedspread, cringing at his words. Sure, he…really liked Shuuya in a way he didn't particularly know how to describe. But they'd just recently become such good friends. He didn't want to ruin anything, God knew that he needed a friend here in Inazuma Town.

"Shirou. Look at me." And (slightly) against his will, he tore his gaze away from the bed, eyes wide as Shuuya's hand came up, brushing his cheek. "I'm not going anywhere. I will do everything in my power to stay with you. You don't need to be scared anymore." And the hand left his cheek, into his hair, threading through the strands slowly, gently untangling the occasional knots he came across.

"I-I know that, I just…" But he just what? It had been years since the accident and every time he heard something – anything – loud, he couldn't help but feel that swelling bud of panic.

"Then please trust me, just this once." Shuuya's hand came back down to his face, stroking his cheek with the back of his hand, cupping his chin gently, forcing him to maintain eye contact. "Not everyone you love will disappear. They can't all at the same time, anyways."

"But–!"

But nothing. He felt a soft pair of lips on his, and eyes wide, he stared up at Shuuya, barely even registering what was going on. Now this…this surely had to be a dream. But when the storm passed and he glanced out the window, Shuuya was still there, smiling at him, scolding him for staying up so late when they had school the next – or that – day.

If he knew that this would be their last storm – their last night – together, he would've hurried home, traffic be damned, and made it worth it. Not that anything was worth losing Shuuya. But coming back to the apartment (it couldn't be a home anymore, not without Shuuya there) and calling out "I'm home!" and receiving no answer only reinforced the cold dread he'd felt driving ho – back (no, it wasn't home anymore, he had to stop thinking like that).

He wasn't sure which he hated more. The avalanche that had stolen is family from him or the storm that had stolen his lover from him.

All he could do was stare at their wrecked apartment (not a home anymore, get it right), a small, tragic inkling of pride that at least Shuuya hadn't gone down quietly. Carefully, gingerly, he stepped into their – no, now it was his – apartment, skirting around the broken table, into their living room, where the couch was overturned and a sparkle of glass was on the floor. He gently picked up a broken frame lying on the table, carefully extracting their picture from it, not even making the connection between the glass and the picture frame. Their picture, back from high school. Now, it was just mocking him as lightning flashed outside, flooding the room with light. Too much light. He didn't want to see everything, know for sure that his lover was gone.

Because…because what if there was a chance that he wasn't?

The thought startled even himself as his eyes widened, all but bolting to check every room. Yes…yes! Why was he thinking like this? For all he knew, this had nothing to do with them, that it might've all just been a big accident, completely unrelated to Shuuya.

…and yet, why couldn't he believe that?

Systematically he made his way through all of the room, checking every one as thoroughly as possible for anything. Any sign that meant that they hadn't taken him and that he still had a chance to get him back somehow. But it was standing in their (his) shared bedroom as the lightning and thunder finally broke out that he realized it.

Thunder rumbled quietly outside, so quietly he didn't hear it, so loud his realization was. And then the loud clap resounded through the building as, shaking, he sat on the bed. The bed that – just that morning – they'd lain in together, waking each other up with butterfly kisses. Now, staring blankly at the window as lightning struck the sky again, it just felt too big, too empty, too lonely.

It was all wrong without him there to warm it.

Reaching a shaking hand up to his face, he wiped away the tears that he hadn't even known he'd shed. They were just motions. His mind was far, far away from his body, trying his hardest to remember that no; no one he loved was not going to disappear the moment he closed his eyes. Because now, the only person he had left to love was gone. However, this time…this time, he could do something about it. This time, he would do something about it, instead of just sitting there and taking it. He wasn't a helpless little boy anymore. Fifth Sector was going to pay for this. They were going to pay very, very dearly.

And in much the same way the rain had brought them together, it came to end it all.