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The line-storm clouds fly tattered and swift,
The road is forlorn all day,
Where a myriad snowy quartz stones lift,
And the hoof-prints vanish away.
The roadside flowers, too wet for the bee,
Expend their bloom in vain.
Come over the hills and far with me,
And be my love in the rain.
When they first meet Katsuki is as petulant as ever. The rain is a steady drumming in the background as he follows the path he knows by heart to the park pavilion only to see a figure already there. Most people don’t come to the park when it’s raining, much less travel deep enough to find his favorite spot except apparently this weird prick.
Two-toned hair framed his face and almost covered eyes that were downcast to the worn book in his hands. The uniform and book bag made it clear that he was also a student but Katsuki wasn’t familiar with the school. It was a western style unlike his own gakuran but that didn’t matter as much as the fact that he felt a lick of irritation from someone invading his private space.
It didn’t matter that it was a public space and technically not his in any way, he was always there at the same time and some asshole wasn’t going to change that. As if to prove that point, Katsuki stomped his way to the pavilion and closed his umbrella before taking his usual seat and pulling out a sketchbook.
He was just thankful that the mystery asshole was either to absorbed in his book to say anything or just quiet by nature. It was easy to forget he was there outside of the occasional ruffle of a page turning or when he took sips from his canned green tea.
As annoying as it was to have his space invaded, Katsuki couldn’t help but pick up on small details and even record some of them on the page of his sketchbook. He didn’t have to like someone to draw them. It didn’t matter since he was only drawing parts of the stranger anyways. Nothing as defining as his facial features.
Said stranger was an interesting subject at least, different from most of the people in his life in both appearance and atmosphere.
All his friends and acquaintances were just as loud and boisterous as himself, although much more cheery. His mystery stranger had yet to say a single word to him and had only nodded his head in acknowledgement when Katsuki had first sat down.
He also made an interesting subject because of how unusual his appearance was. It wasn’t very common to see someone with their hair color split right down the middle, matching with the scar tissue on one side of his face and the patches of albinism on the other. He was pretty sure it was from vitiligo, even his eyebrows and eyelashes were dual colored, but it just made the heterochromia more pronounced.
They continued to share the quiet atmosphere of the pavilion on rainy days after school had gotten out but it wasn’t until a week had passed that they actually spoke to each other.
Katsuki was there first for once, having taken his usual seat and set aside his umbrella. He became absorbed in his sketches, not noticing the new presence until a canned green tea entered his field of vision. The stranger was holding it out to him, bag still slung across his shoulder and a matching can in his other hand.
“Do you like green tea?” His voice was soft when he spoke to Katsuki, it suited the atmosphere he had.
“Sure, thanks.” Katsuki answered, taking the offered beverage before watching the other sit down and set his bag to the side. Judging from the bookmark placing, he’d be finished with whatever novel he was reading.
They didn’t speak until the next time they met under the pavilion, when a figure leaned over him before he realized. Mismatched eyes scanned the page before Katsuki could cover it fully.
“You’re drawing clothing?”
Katsuki huffed slightly, eyebrows pinched in annoyance but not nearly as severe as when he was around his usual company. “My parents work in the fashion industry so it’s easy. I find it calming.”
He only received a hum in response, eyes moving away from his face to look out over the water of the nearby lake. There was something pensive in his eyes but he could be thinking of the rain for all Katsuki knew.
After a moment, he returned to his usual seat and picked up his book again. It was a new one this time, the cover designed to look like tree bark with neat black lettering. He could guess that it was probably English but he didn’t know for sure. English was never one of his strong suits.
“New book?” He ventured, since apparently they were going to start speaking now.
“A gift from my sister.” He explained, tracing the starched page almost reverently. “It’s a book of poems.”
“Is that why it’s in English then?”
He smiled softly for a moment, a fragile thing that Katsuki immediately wanted to capture with his pencil. His hands twitched at the barely contained urge. “Poetry doesn’t translate very well. It’s good practice anyways.”
This time Katsuki nodded, returning to his sketchbook as silence settled between them once again.
They remained quiet more often than not on these afternoons where the only sound was the steady murmur of the rain and even the birds seemed reluctant to speak. Sometimes they would have a quiet conversation before settling into their routines but never anything telling. While Katsuki made a point of being at the pavilion everyday he only ever had familiar company when it was raining.
It wasn’t until a month after meeting that they finally exchanged names and the mystery boy became Todoroki Shouto. They still didn’t converse openly beyond small snippets of conversation but it was obvious that he preferred being called by his given name.
When he actually thought about it, there was a lot he had learned about Shouto. Small bits of information that had all been neatly categorized whether he meant to or not.
Shouto was perplexing as well as reserved but that only made Katsuki determined to learn more about him. He always drank green tea, the same brand, and after the first time would bring an extra for Katsuki. He seemed to be working his way through the new book a lot slower than he had with the novel as well.
Sometimes he’d check something on his phone before returning to the book of poems that seemed to be so captivating. Only once did Katsuki see him retrieve a pen from his book bag and stain the crisp page with his own ink.
It wasn’t until late June that Katsuki asked a question he’d had on his mind for a while. “Why do you only come here when it’s raining?”
Shouto paused for a moment, book settling into his lap, “The rain changes everything.”
Katsuki was prepared to ask what the fuck he was on about when Shouto looked out at the rain meeting the lake. “Usually this park would be busy and active but it’s quieter when it rains. Not just this park but everything. Even the plants and animals seem to change when it’s raining.”
“You’re weird.” Katsuki snorted, and maybe he let a bit of affection seep into his tone. Despite the answer being strange it didn’t surprise him in the slightest.
Shouto hummed softly, the corner of his mouth barely tilting upward as his eyes fell closed. “And you’re probably right.”
Throughout July they talked more, conversation coming easier now and Shouto appeared in his sketchbook more frequently than he’d like to admit. The once rare smiles were fully captured in graphite on more than one page. And while Katsuki could be perpetually sour it seemed to amuse Shouto more than anything.
Whenever Katsuki was in a particularly bad mood it was always met with dry humor and soft laughter that was hidden behind hands but still bright in mismatched eyes.
When July ended Katsuki knew he was in love.
The end of the month came with dwindling rain and Shouto was at the park infrequently. Visits seemed few and far between until Katsuki found himself begging for never-ending rain. He didn’t even like the rain but would suffer it for the sake of someone that had once been a stranger.
After almost a month he was angry. It was stupid that they had never even exchanged contact information despite the hours they had spent in the pavilion. He was angry at himself for never taking the leap to solidify whatever they had and angry at Shouto for his absence.
He wasn’t supposed to be hung up on some strange pretty boy that drank green tea and read English poems but he couldn’t help the tightness in his chest at seeing the empty seat.
Katsuki did what he was best at and retreated into his anger. It was a familiar emotion and felt a lot better than the stupid aching in his chest that wouldn’t go away.
Of course, life had other plans. Plans that involved his shitty friends grabbing his sketchbook when he was caught off guard.
“Give that back before I kill you!”
Unfortunately his verbose threats fell on deaf ears as Eijirou whined, passing the sketchbook to Mina before Katsuki could snag it from his hands. “But you always have this thing on you. I just want to see what you draw since you never share it.”
“I thought we were best friends, Blasty!” Mina chimed in with mock hurt before flipping open to a random page and whistling. “Who’s this cutie?”
And fuck whatever gods decided Katsuki needed to suffer like this. “It’s no one you trashy bubblegum bitch.” He bit out, trying to ignore the way his ears were burning.
“You sure drew him a lot for it being ‘nobody’.” Mina insisted, shit-eating grin getting worse when she flipped to the next page. “Did I strike a nerve?”
“I don’t want to hear shit from a walking fashion disaster like you so can it!”
“Hey, I know this guy.” Eijirou decided to interrupt, grip loosening as he examined the drawing. “That’s Todoroki, right?”
“How the fuck do you know him?” Katsuki tried to keep the hope he felt from coloring his voice but he was failing miserably.
“Well I don’t know him but his sister is the grade school teacher I volunteer for. He comes by occasionally but I’ve never really talked to him.”
“Where is it? We’re going now.” Katsuki demanded, taking back his sketchbook and all but dragging Eijirou out of the building in his rush to figure out what the fuck was happening.
It wasn’t long before Katsuki found himself standing in shock, his own eyes locking with wide mismatched ones while Eijirou and the presumed sister both looked perplexed.
“We need to talk.” Katsuki bit out through his stupor before pulling Shouto out of the room and down the hall. He could feel his arms shaking with barely contained rage while his eyes pricked with tears of relief. Relief that his first love hadn’t left with the rain.
“Katsuki.” Shouto’s voice was fragile, like that first smile Katsuki had seen back in May.
“Shut up, bastard.” Maybe he should have been more gentle but he was feeling too much, “How fucking dare you invade my space and make me feel these stupid fucking emotions before disappearing without a single word.”
“I was going to ask for your number but the rain never came back.” He tried to explain, eyes flicking to Katsuki’s face periodically before returning to ground.
“Fuck the rain!” He was nearly shouting now but that wasn’t anything new, “I was there everyday and you never came back!”
“I was afraid.” It was barely above a whisper but Katsuki could feel a heavy weight behind those words. “Please, I’ll be there tomorrow, so just please. Wait for me a little longer?”
Shouto looked desperate as he plead with Katsuki, eyes finally meeting his own. There was so much written in the single expression that Katsuki felt like he was the one with the novel now.
“I’m going to kill you if you aren’t there tomorrow.”
But Shouto was there the following day, and even if his choice in casual clothes made Katsuki want to gag, his heart felt that much lighter.
“You better have some good fucking reasons for disappearing.”
“A lot happened.” He started, brows furrowed as he seemed to be chewing on his words, “I think you made me a better person. And I know I’m a mess so I was afraid of you having to see that mess.”
“I don’t fucking care what problems you have. I can’t do shit if I don’t know what’s going on.” Katsuki wanted to be angry but it was hard to hate someone that seemed to be struggling so much.
“I think I love you Katsuki.” It felt whimsical, to hear such a statement being accompanied by a few stray tears. And now Katsuki’s own vision was blurring as Shouto opened his mouth to continue. “I told you before that the rain changes things, and it does. I was so afraid that when it left you wouldn’t like the person I changed into.”
“You’re a fucking moron.” Katsuki grunted out, pulling Shouto into his chest. “It can’t change something like that. My feelings aren’t so trivial that they could be influenced by the weather.”
“Katsuki-”
“I think I love you too.” He interrupted, refusing to meet Shouto’s eyes as his face burned from the admission, “You’re an infuriating idiot but I like being around you. If you ever do this to me again I’m going to kick your ass.”
Before he could react, Shouto was kissing him, and even though it was salty from mixed tears he would never give up the memory for anything else.
“It’s raining again.”
And it seems like the time when after doubt
Our love came back amain.
Oh, come forth into the storm and rout
And be my love in the rain.