Work Text:
thunder
lightning
clouds
“Are you writing a love letter?”
Kida swings his arm around Mikado’s neck, pulling him into a hug, Mikado jumping and holding his notebook against his chest, hiding it. Kida’s eyes wander to the words, the rhythmic lines, before Mikado covers them.
“Masaomi—!”
“A love letter for our dear Anri!”
“It’s—”
His eyes screw shut and his face goes red and a word slips through his fingers that Kida can clearly see.
rain
rain, rain, go away
come again another day
He smiles, but Mikado’s eyes are panicked. Two seconds of silence before Mikado turns around and runs away.
/
How nice it is of Mikado to write a beautiful poem for Anri, to write lines of rhythm and meter, to express his love through words on a paper.
What represents her?
thunder?
lightning?
clouds?
“I always thanked the sun... for drying the rain.”
sunlight
Waiting for Anri after school, Mikado talks little about his poem, running his fingers through his hair when Masaomi asks him questions about his writing. What he does say, he says quietly, tentatively.
it’s hard to put my feelings into words
i really hope he likes it
i wrote a little today but i hated it so i threw it away
Wait.
“He?”
And Mikado catches his breath, holding his face in his hands, his words incomprehensible, and the poem is not for Anri.
“Mikado—”
At that moment, Anri greets them, and he can see Mikado let out a sigh of relief.
/
rain
rain
go
away
/
Mikado’s poem. He can’t forget it.
It sticks to his mind and it stays there, hitting every corner and god, he has a headache—he pulls and tugs at his hair and his clothes and he’s driving himself crazy, just thinking about it.
Mikado’s poem. And when Kida pressed more about it, he looked at him with a soft, kind, beautiful expression, his eyes falling shut and a sigh escaping his mouth, as he told him, he told him that—
“There’s someone in my life... someone who’s the sun to my rain...”
Kida tightens his grip on his hair, heart racing and breathing heavy, panic rising and rising and the poem is not for Anri.
“I always thanked the sun... for drying the rain.”
/
Anri. She knows about it.
When Kida brings it up, she smiles warmly and clasps her hands together, her voice soft and kind, as always.
“Ryūgamine has such a way with words.” Her smile grows wider. “His poem is just so, so beautiful.”
She’s read it.
His heart beats faster and faster with each thought thrown at him.
He knows it’s about
thunder
lightning
clouds
rain
sunlight
love
And Mikado writes it day after day and never stops. He’s going insane thinking about the words on that paper, the lines of music and serenity, each stroke of Mikado’s hand a new line about—
the sun
to
my rain
Kida.
/
He’s bored in class, tapping his fingers against his desk. He glances to the teacher, to the window, to Mikado, to—
Mikado’s dancing pencil, lines of poetry pouring onto his paper.
There’s a feeling in Masaomi that he can’t shake, and it’s rushing at him like
rain
thunder
Mikado’s spilling his thoughts onto that paper in the form of
lightning
clouds
sunlight
And Kida’s watching him and watching him and watching him and—
He wants to kiss him.
He wants to kiss Mikado.
He wants to kiss his lips and his cheek and his neck and tell him how beautiful he is, how much he means to him, how amazing this poem is and that he’s—
He’s...
No.
He can’t be.
/
if masaomi
wrote a poem
it would be about
infatuation
exhilaration
love
regret
regret
regret
/
They’re walking home from school, and Anri’s not there. He doesn’t have time to wonder why.
Mikado’s gripping his arm, pulling him back, and shifts his feet nervously, his eyes locked on the ground. Kida stares at his lips.
“Masaomi, I...”
He reaches into his back pocket, and there it is, bright like
sunlight
Mikado’s poem. A paper ripped out of a notebook, folded neatly. He hands it to Kida, and it’s like he’s receiving the universe.
/
thunder lightning clouds rain sunlight love regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret regret
/
Their first kiss is soft, warm, a nervous meeting of lips. The paper feels electric in Kida’s hand, Mikado’s lips like fire.
When the kiss breaks, Mikado leans in for another one, longer, lingering, and much more passionate. His hands lightly grip Kida’s hair, shaking.
The words spoken against Kida’s lips send his head spiraling.
“I love you.”
i
love
you
“I really hope you like it, Masaomi...”
It’s cold, when Mikado pulls away.
/
the clouds sit in the dead, dead sky
the birds are gone, the world is gray
as rain falls from the clouds that cry
falls, and never goes away
lightning strikes a nearby tree
the fire grows, but the rain goes on
thunder booms, and one can see
a distant rock, whereupon
one man sits, all alone
and watches this natural battle zone
and as the rain falls and falls
from the dead sky where clouds are gray
as if by my own desperate falls
the sun begins to make its way
and all at once, the world turns bright
the sky is alive, the clouds, they sing
such a miracle, and one might
thank the sun for this beautiful thing
i love the sun for all it brings
the brightness and the happy days
the clouds, the sky, the whole world sings
beauty in all different ways
and it really is an amazing sight
to fall in love with a sun so bright
/
His eyes are red and stinging from the fallen tears, words blurry and unreadable, and he wipes his eyes with his sleeve, rubbing his temples.
Mikado’s name is signed at the bottom, with love. Kida rubs his thumb over the ink, a tear falling, wetting the paper and smearing the words. Ink runs down the paper. A word is ruined.
sun
Kida, the sun to Mikado’s rain, lighting up a dead sky, and bringing happy days.
He can still taste Mikado’s kiss on his lips.
to fall in love
with a sun so bright
Mikado is in love with him—he wrote a poem for him and kissed him and told him, he told him!
The words of Kida’s own poem are coming back together in his head.
regret
regret
regret
He regrets it all—Izaya, Saki, the gang waiting for him, all in yellow scarves, loving Mikado when... he’s the leader of that gang.
“I always thanked the sun... for drying the rain.”
Masaomi crumples up the paper and shoves it into his coat pocket, wishing he could kiss him again.
He tightens the yellow scarf around his neck, and returns to his gang.