Helios, sealed and enraged,

let the fury of sunlight burn vapidly.

Asuhi felt himself running on adrenaline, the energy from earlier which he drew from became nothing more than a culmination of his exhaustion and his efforts. In the end, only a tiny bit of logic and perception remained in his mind.

The storm and the situation had rattled his sensibility, but he held onto bare remnants of consciousness in order to accommodate himself and Kuzuryu.

Kyoma stumbled along like a drunken person, but it was neither alcohol nor tobacco that held him back—just sickness and cold, instead. The slow roll of water drops was audible, and they dragged on like large drum beats that echoed and echoed like a desolate song. The drip, drip, drips of water made Asuhi's room seem like an underwater cavern, until the illusion was broken by the occasional and obstinate flash of lightning from outside.

Imizu scrambled for blankets in his closet, and as he passed by the thermostat he turned up the heat carefully to make sure that his room was warm, but not steaming. Even then, it would be a few minutes until the changes in temperature kicked in, so in the meantime him and Kuzuryu would be locked in a period of cold, lukewarm sentiment that was present in the stale room.

The older student nearly collapsed on the couch, and the younger of the two figured that it was a good place for him to collapse on. He was grateful because he could just dump the blankets onto the couch, and his heart would relax itself when he watched the older boy grasp at them weakly. Then he reached forward, and did his best to secure the blankets around the other's body. At the fleeting sensation of his fingers brushing against skin, the older one of the two seemed to fly into a short frenzy, gasping and sputtering weakly at the contact.

Anxiety gripped Asuhi's heart, and he hoped desperately that it couldn't be heard over the storm outside. "K-Kuzuryu," he barely stuttered. "Just r-rest now, okay? You'll be fine, I promise…"

"I-I—" Kyoma cut himself off as his breath morphed into a series of hard, painful coughs. As he upheaved, Asuhi could make out his pathetic shape in the dark, and the lightning that illuminated the room revealed the injuries that lay underneath.

The blue parts of Kyoma's skin were more visible, and they lined his cheeks, arms, and legs like scars. They were like beautiful yet terrifying marks that ran across his body, making him shiver and recoil in pain as if they were violet scales protruding from his golden skin, instead. The centers of the bruises were discolored further than that, as they were transformed into a disgusting mix of black and green shades that told bitter stories about stones and concrete—his collisions with the ground and other objects were the cause for such bruises in the first place. He was spiritually and mentally liberated in the storm, but his physicality paid the price.

Just as Asuhi feared it would. Not to mention the smaller, less distinctive cuts and scrapes that decorated the spaces in between the bruises. There was a noticeable streak across Kyoma's face that was neither paint nor water. It was blood, both of the dried up and wet variety, and beneath it was a thin opening that exposed Kyoma and weakened him to the world outside.

Aushi was hardly a student, let alone a doctor. But he knew that once the storm passed, he could take Kyoma to the school nurse, at the very least. Until then, they would both have to settle for his limited skill with a first aid kit. The best he could do at the moment was put on some bandaids, apply some disinfectant on the cuts, and hope for the best.

It was a slow process, one where Asuhi felt the minutes tick by and slide through his fingers, until they crashed onto each other and formed into heavy hours. In all of those hours, neither of them really spoke, and the soft rise-and-fall of the blanket heap indicated that Kyoma had fallen asleep at some point. For that, Asuhi was grateful, and spared himself a small smile. When he did everything that he possibly could, Imizu stumbled back into his own bed, and climbed under the covers.

He was still fully dressed in his uniform—in clothes that were gradually dampened from the oncoming rain from outside. At some point during the search, the umbrella Asuhi used had broken apart, and he was defenseless as rain and sleet poured down on him in merciless showers. Asuhi learned this experience first hand, and figured that he was neither better nor worse for it.

He was just glad that, after some time, he was able to bring Kyoma back from the oblivion he had wandered out to. And once they rested, then they could sort things out in the morning and everything would go back to normal.

Or, everything would seem to go back to normal. Despite being dead tired, Asuhi still had time to rise from his bed carefully, and glance one last time in Kyoma's direction. He could hardly see him from his position in the dark, but the gently moving mass of blankets on the couch indicated Kuzuryu's quiet breathing and sleep, something which Asuhi assumed he never got enough of.

The feeling was strange. Something heavy stirred in his chest, but he could not quite place it. Asuhi could also not explain why he had suddenly become fixated on Kyoma, but at the very least, he could blame this whole situation on his own kindness, and the cruelty of the unusual storm outside. Feeling content, Asuhi fell back onto his bed, and buried himself in his pillows and his sheets.

Within seconds, he was asleep as well, and the riveting night pulsed into a lulling rhythm—the once-tiring rainstorm transformed into a now-soothing drizzle. And by morning, the rain would disappear completely, leaving sunny wind behind in its place. There would be no evidence of a near catastrophe having took place, except for the drenched sidewalks and the canceled classes. There would be no sign of a struggle, and no sign of a fight that happened between Kyoma and the storm—one that resulted in the storm winning and running away by leagues.

There was nothing left but the dark morning, with its overwhelming scent of petrichor, and the subdued life within the concrete's boundaries. There would be the aftermath of the storm, of course, in which the students and faculty would be given a day of reprieve in order to recover from the storm's repercussions. And with these understandings taking place, the entire school fell into a loud but quiet chorus of agreement over the morning's fate.

The only noise that came from Asuhi's dorm, however, was a chorus of snores that softly drifted out through the cracks in the door...

And Helios cried out from the abyss,

"Let the rain be no more!"