Poseidon saw the endless deluge,

and delighted in the never-ending rain.

The rain continued on into the night without fail. Various power outages occurred in between each other, and a quiet murmur of candlelight revealed itself within the school. Weather stations of the nearby area had pegged it all as a freak storm occurrence, and that it was expected to have cleared up by the morning. With that thought in mind, the students of Mikagura Academy started retiring for the night, in light of the classes they would surely have tomorrow.

One by one, Asuhi's friends showed themselves out of his room. It started with Otone and Meika, who were terrified of the storm and couldn't hold back their fear any longer. When continuous thunder rolled like fireworks going off in quick succession, it was the perfect excuse for the two of them to bolt upright, and run out of Asuhi's dorm while screaming over each other frantically. Himi—as Meika's senior and role model—decided to follow after her to make sure that she and Otone didn't get into any trouble thereafter.

The flower-arranger, more subdued than usual with Himi's absence in place, decided it would be wise for him to leave at once. His emerald eyes were alight with a strange sadness, such that his irises seemed to glow with a forlorn energy. Asuhi was worried, but ultimately kept his voice down as Sadamatsu said a few polite words to him in his leave. He gave him a friendly smile before walking out of the room, with unexpected (or was it entirely expected?) grace in his step.

Then, Eruna hugged Asuhi—saying that they should definitely hang out again tomorrow—and smiled into his shoulder during their embrace. She wasted no time bounding out the room, humming playfully to herself. Then she paused in abject wonder, realizing something quite terrible. She wasn't able to see Seisa today! The storm separated the campus dorms from the Academy's main building—the large mansion-like estate where the granddaughter of the Headmistress slept like a princess in silk sheets. Oh, if only Ichinomiya could join her, or at the very least see her angelic face before going off to sleep.

Eruna frowned. "G'night, Asuhi." She called out dejectedly, sluggishly dragging her feet along down the hall.

That left Asuhi alone with Yuto, but the latter seemed quite tired, much to Asuhi's surprise. He always thought the older boy was more of a night owl than this. And maybe he was, but even nocturnal creatures could agree that there was something sleep-inducing about the darkness of the night. Yuuto's arms stretched out in angular manner, and his body contorted in the most limber way possible. The younger boy almost laughed out loud at the idea of how cat-like the older boy could be. He held his giddiness together, though.

"I should head out, too," He finally said, hazel eyes flicking in Asuhi's direction. "You'll be okay, right?"

"I'll be fine," Asuhi insisted, smiling softly. "Don't worry about me. See you tomorrow, Akama!"

Yuto grinned, and ruffled Asuhi's hair with his hand before leaving. There was a sort of affection in his touch, one that wasn't usually there before. It made Asuhi's shoulders tense up for some reason, but they relaxed underneath his soft caress soon enough. Yuto laughed in spite of himself.

"See you tomorrow."

And soon after that, Asuhi was alone in his room again. The noise was once overbearing, to the point that he was sure the student disciplinary council would come down hard on them for how rowdy they were at night. But now everything was utterly quiet, and it was as if no one had come to his room to begin with. Only the scent of floral candles (courtesy of Sadamatsu) lingered in the air, and stayed as a singular reminder of the life that had once convened there.

By tomorrow, the same rambunctious crowd would reappear again, and his heart would soar out of happiness once more. Until then, though, he was left to his own devices, and as such he naturally gravitated towards the window where he could watch the storm unfurl its fury in full. The dark expanse was looming and strangely enticing, such that Asuhi vaguely wondered what it would have felt like if he wandered out in the deluge like other braver souls had done before him.

Suddenly, a flash of lightning hit, and the spontaneous brightness caused Asuhi to jump. He could see the outside world clearly, if only for a few seconds. And in those short seconds he could also see the outline of a person in the distance—a tall, blond person. His mind immediately went to thoughts of Kyoma, and how he had not seen him all day. Not even in passing, when normally they would at least cross paths in the crowded halls. So what was Kyoma doing out in the storm of all places? Asuhi thought of the disparate cold out there, and how the older student must have been soaked to the bone. No, further than that, Kyoma was soaked all the way down to his bone marrow. The storm was a furious onslaught of rain and wind that would not let up for anyone.

Not even Kyoma, Asuhi thought. Not even the one person in all of Mikagura who's own heart could match the storm's in terms of unlawfulness—not the one who struck fear in other students with a simple, solemn gaze of his crimson eyes. Yet the outside was a cruel, cruel world, and there was no telling what it would do to a person who had his fair share of cruelty in life. Even if the artist knew what he was doing, the storm was unpredictable and unforgiving—it would leave him as nothing more than a colorful blur in the gray myriad.

He had to do something. Asuhi's heart beat erratically in his chest, screaming against the righteous fury buzzing through his veins just now. Impulsively, Imizu grabbed a jacket and an umbrella (one that he didn't remember owning but figured it was Otone's or Eruna's and was left behind), and bolted out the door of his room in the greatest hastiness yet. Before soon, he crashed through the doors of the building, and simple thoughts reverberated in his mind as he did so.

I have to bring him back.

I just have to.

...

It was hard to think when all Kyoma heard was the pounding rain and rushing blood in his ears. It was as if millions of glass shards shattered around him. The rain was dropping, falling, and deafening in every way possible. The ice water struck his skin like needles, and each pinprick sent a shiver of wondrous sensation up his spine and through his shoulders. The rain was his rhyme-less hymn and his thoughtless song. It was the numbing sensation, the unreasonable desire, and the overwhelming pulsation that rang weakly in the thralls of his heart.

It was quite nice.

Also nice was the liberation he felt when his clothes were soaked so thoroughly that all he felt on his body was the chilling cold. He could not discern the sensation of cloth from the weight of water, nor the flashes of lightning from the brightness in his mind. It felt like one outer layer of skin that he was always meant to wear, even if his skin itself screamed out with each drop of freezing water—even when his ears rang for mercy from the noisy storm.

These feelings were crisp and raw. His heart leaped and soared as it tried to pump blood through the senseless muscles, those which burned profusely with each erratic movement he made. His heartbeat was so fast and strong that, it could match the thunderous rhythm of the sky above him—if not outclass the noise itself entirely. And the wind whipped at him from all sides, upsetting his balance and his warmth, toppling him over at some points only to knock over him again when he tried to get a foothold on the slippery ground.

By the time Kyoma could stand upright, he felt giddy and invigorated all at once. His bones ached back and forth with discomfort, but he ignored their cries as he continued on in his strange journey outward.

He had guessed at how running in the storm would feel like, but whatever his imagination brought earlier paled in comparison to the real thing. He felt so alive. His eyes were clouded with exhaustion, sickness, and ice, but they were still brimming with an unbridled emotion that he didn't even know what to call. His hair was flattened and his clothes were loose, drenched in water and losing their trademark paint stains.

It erased any struggle, any pain, and any evidence of strife on his person. It washed him anew, like a cloth drenched in blood at a riverside.

It gave him the smallest chance of hope in his life full of despair.

...

Asuhi jumped as a crackle of lightning struck just some yards ahead of him. He had never seen bolts so close up before, but knowing their unpredictability like he did made him decide that it was better to steer clear. Even in the tumultuous conditions, there was no telling what the rest of the natural force would do to him. And he knew that it wouldn't help Kyoma in the very least if the person trying to help him burned to a crisp on the way there.

The thought of such a thing made him shudder along with the cold. But Asuhi figured he was better off than Kyoma, because unlike the artist, the astronomer-in-training had garnered a raincoat and umbrella before setting out. He had some veritable protection against the storm, which beckoned and called out to the students like a lazy temptress.

Yet the second he stepped out of the dorm building, Asuhi almost wished that he stayed. The wind slashed at him immediately, and he felt his balance threaten to fall over. The rain that made contact with him felt like ice water, and caused him to shiver involuntarily. When all these things hit him at once, the only thing his mind could think of forming was insipid, little questions that did nothing but worry him further.

He thought about Kuzuryu. What was he doing out here, to begin with? Imizu thought that maybe the other got caught in the storm, but who would take this long to get out of the rain, if they wanted to? Who would keep going at this rate when there was much dryer, warmer shelter inside waiting for them?

With that in mind, it could only mean that Kyoma was out there voluntarily, and that he wanted to be caught in ice, water, and wind. He wanted the lightning and thunder to strike so close to him; he wanted the cold, sickness, and cruelty to cut him to the bone, until he couldn't feel anything anymore. He wanted this from the start.

But what if Kuzuryuu wasn't actually out there, and Asuhi was just searching for a nameless ghost? What if this was the most useless escapade in the history of escapades? What if the only things that came out of this whole experience was a nasty flu and a new dislike for the rain? More and more questions like that popped up in the boy's mind, but he kept it to himself in a frenzied motion. With a silent and strong disposition, Asuhi held on tight as he teetered left and right in the dragging wind. He grasped on tightly to the handle of the umbrella, which threatened to break off at any given moment.

In the distance, where in the small part of darkness his eyes could see, he spotted something moving. They were slow and uneasy movements, but Asuhi hoped that it was Kuzuryu he was seeing, nonetheless. The closer he got, however, the more he realized that it was starting to look less like Kyoma, and more like a tree. When he got up close to it, he could see the shivering branches and the helpless leaves flying off in disarray.

I can't believe I mistook a tree for him. Asuhi thought embarrassingly. He grit his teeth, and started searching elsewhere.

In the roaring weather, Asuhi remembered little, especially about how he managed to weave in and out of the flooding black top. And not to mention how he kept on moving through the slough of it all, even after the wind had torn at the umbrella by ripping holes in the top and rendering it useless. At some point Asuhi discarded it, but that action was just as forgettable as the next.

It was like a dream where, after blinking, the boy would find himself in a totally different scene than the one he was just in before. He called out for Kyoma one moment, and in the next moment he found himself being thrashed along the storm's whimsy.

Eventually, Asuhi ended up finding Kyoma once and for all, and became worried and relieved in the same turn. He was relieved to know that his fellow student was actually out there, and that he was not spending all of this time wandering like a ghost for nothing. But he was worried for the same reason, because Kyoma was actually out there, and strangely enough he seemed to be enjoying himself.

The older boy didn't even have a jacket over him. Instead, he wore his usual school attire, which was not nearly protective enough for a storm of this caliber. His eyes were so, so tired looking, that Asuhi felt a wave of pity swell up inside of him and crash like the waves at the shore. There were blotches of Kyoma's skin that appeared bluish and sickly, and if Asuhi didn't hurry up, he supposed the other would start catching things that were worse than colds.

"Kuzuryu," Asuhi called out. "Please, come back inside."

"You," he replied, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and cold. "It's you. Why do you care?"

"Because, if you get sick from being out here, that would be t-t-terrible!" The boy sneezed, nearly sucking the fluids back in because of the wind. He flailed around in distress, wiping at the water that was slapping him in the face. Luckily Kyoma didn't seem to judge him for this particularly nasty moment, but maybe it was just because he was hardly aware of anything to begin with.

"Would it be that bad, though?" Kyoma rebutted, arms shaking more visibly. "I'm j-just fine, so go back inside, Imizu."

Asuhi faltered. He knows my name, his thoughts echoed immediately. It was better than being called a "Girly Rookie" like before, and it was much better than Kyoma glaring at him silently and calling him "you" like the last time they bumped into each other. But still, Imizu was a bit flattered that the other remembered his name, and in such a confusing situation, too.

He supposed he could gush over it later, when they were back inside the building—where it would be warm and dry and nothing like the outside. There they could converse all they liked, and they could let the sloughs of the storm shrug off their shoulders in much needed reprieve. He just had to get Kyoma to go inside with him, and he would do it even if it meant he had to drag him.

"Y-You're turning blue, Kuzuryu. Please just come back with m-me. Please, I mean...do you even realize how cold it is out here? You're not even wearing a jacket o-over your uniform."

At his plea, Kyoma looked down, and noticed his loose, soaking wet uniform, clean of paint but covered in windswept leaves and the occasional mud spots.

Just like that, the invigoration he felt earlier had started to fade, and he felt a freezing, biting sensation surge throughout his limbs. Taking notice of just how badly ruined he was made his voice crack and his legs shake. His teeth chattered, too, and the usual crimson eyes were dulled down to something so subdue that he hardly looked like the same person anymore. This Kyoma was far too reserved and fragile than how he typically was—maybe he had been replaced by the heart of the storm without knowing it. It was a strained effort to try and keep upright, and noticing Asuhi's torn umbrella and equally torn expression convinced him that it would probably be wiser to return to the dorms. It was for their health, if nothing else.

"F-Fine, okay..."

He dared not to say anymore, for his tongue began twisting on him, and his teeth wouldn't stop clicking against each other in hurried, frenzied chatters. Asuhi seemed to understand all of this just by looking at him, though, and was silently relieved at the older boy's cooperation. He started back for the dorm building, with an unbelievably tired upperclassman following after him in a slow march.

It seemed like hours until the two of them finally crashed through the doors of the building, feeling instant but minimal warmth greet them as they nearly collapsed inside. Asuhi took deep breaths, and slammed the doors shut as tightly as he could, hoping that the flooded waters would not find their way into the halls. He looked towards Kyoma, and realized that he could hardly see him at all.

It was because it was dark in there. The hallways were already dark before, but something told Asuhi that the power must have gone out again, since he had floundered for the light switch but nothing happened when he fiddled around with it. The only source of light they had now was from the occasional flash of lightning from outside, which was not very reliable at all.

"D-Do you know your way back to your dorm from here?" The younger boy whispered coarsely, falling into a small coughing fit afterwards.

The older boy shivered and clutched at his sides with achy hands. He shook his head, which let loose some water from his damp hair in the process.

"No..."

"Then come with me." After saying that, Asuhi instantly felt his face burn up, and lamented at the thought that he had possibly caught a cold. Or worse, that he said something that might have been far too forward for the other's taste. But Kyoma's state was more important (and more damaged) in that moment, so he repeated himself for the his sake if nothing else.

"Come with me, please."

He half expected Kyoma to bark at him, or even laugh at his pathetic attempts to try and become some make believe hero in the moment. But Kyoma did neither of those things, and instead he lowered his head, eyes glossy and body trembling with fear and uncertainty. While he was so much taller than Asuhi, he seemed smaller in this state where he was hunched over and pained with ice—body shivering and seizing up underneath the bitterness of it all.

He obeyed. "S-Sure..."

"Okay, don't worry. I have a heater in my room and some blankets..."

With an unsteady hand in the dark, he felt around for the other, until he found the edge of Kyoma's sleeve, which was sopping wet and coming apart. He grabbed it firmly enough that he could tug the other around, and hopefully he'd be able to lead him safely down the halls. Wasting no more time, Asuhi gave a small pull at the other's sleeve, and started walking with Kyoma towards his dorm.

Despite their situation, Asuhi didn't find this strange at all. Even if he was practically inviting the other into his room, it didn't feel invasive or unwarranted like it should have. Maybe it was the storm that rattled his brain, but he couldn't see why he should leave Kyoma to his own devices. Surely the senior student was old enough and good enough to take care of himself, but even the most independent souls needed guidance once in a while.

It was strange that Asuhi, a rather dependent boy himself, would be the one to do so. It was all so new and exciting to him, such that his heart started up again in rapid fire beating. Looking back at the other, Asuhi noticed that Kyoma's face was half-lit from the lightning outside. But he could still see that the older student was entirely embarrassed, confused, and numbed by the situation around him. There was a cesspool of emotions swirling in his blood-colored eyes, and Asuhi was not perceptive enough to sort through them all. But he didn't blame the other at all, because being in a storm as long as him would surely do something to one's clarity and logic.

Today was just one of those days were so many things happened at once, yet it felt like nothing was happening at all. And the two males paused in front of Asuhi's dorm, silently hesitating as they both seemed to wonder if it was okay to do what they were doing. It's the storm, Asuhi reasoned with himself. I would probably never be brave enough to invite him in otherwise.

Even as his hand tightened around Kyoma's sleeve, and their fingers brushed against each other, he kept telling himself that. Even as he opened the door and invited Kyoma inside, he kept saying it in his head.

It's the storm, he repeated. It's the storm.

If he had his way,

he would make it rain forever.