Archive of Our Own

“My son, the fate of this village will be in your hands,” is the last words his father says to Rin before he departs for Lake Muro. Neither of them are willing to admit this out loud, but they both understand the weight of these parting words: whether or not the village can survive through the drought will depend entirely on Rin.

The Matsuoka clan’s leader’s face is lined with age and hardship he’s led his people through time and time again; his hair has prematurely turned white, though Rin would never mention this, not wanting his father to have an extra matter to stress over.

The man looks apologetic as he holds his son’s hands in his much rougher ones, the dark crimson of his eyes melancholic and Rin hates it – hates that his father, as the village chief, is the one who’s forced to make the difficult decision, hates that he has to see the man he respects and loves looks so fragile for once, and this might be the last time Rin will see him and the rest of his family.

He has already said his farewell last night to his mother and younger sister, Gou, who has tearfully begged him to find another way. He hasn’t seen her cried since she turned eight – not even when she fell off the tree she was climbing when she was thirteen and broke her ankle did she come anywhere near to red-brimmed eyes – and so when Rin held her shaking frame to his chest while she sobbed uncontrollably, her tears soaking into the cotton of his cloak, Rin became frustratingly wordless, convinced that nothing he said would be able to console her.

He’s leaving home for the first time in his sixteen years of life, and even as the familiar scenery passes by him in streaks of colours – the bright blue of the little pond that he catches fish in during the heat of the summer, and the crop fields that are full of fond memories of playing hide and seek with his friends and sister when the fields were still green and alive – as his horse carries him northbound and away from everything he treasures and knows.

In the cloth packet slung over his left shoulder, there are hard biscuits and a full water-skin to fill his stomach and quench his thirst on this two-day journey, and on the rear of the horse is a sack filled with what little offerings the village can afford for Rin to bring with him: two bottles of rice wine, some fresh fruits and grains that have seen better days, and dried herbs. ‘It’s all for show anyway,’ Rin thinks darkly, but doesn’t protest when his mother has placed each item in with care while blinking back tears.

Where Rin’s heading now is a deserted mountainous area where not many people dare to venture since it’s regarded as holy grounds where numerous mythical creatures reside; it also doesn’t help that those few who did enter that region had never returned. One of the lakes there – Lake Muro – boasts to have the country’s finest, purest water and is rumoured to harbour the vicious dragon rain-deity, Zennyo Ryuo. That is the creature Rin is hoping to find; well, finding it means a certain death for the young man but he figures his life is a small price to pay if it means it can save his entire village from starvation.

That’s what he keeps telling himself anyway as if repeating it in his head over and over again will save his life somehow, though as the two days pass by without mishap, Rin’s heart sinks deeper in his chest, a sturdy boulder that makes it hard to breathe at times, and his stomach knots in ways he hasn’t known is possible the closer he gets to his destination.

It’s late afternoon on the second day of his journey when Rin, having tied his horse up by a nearby tree as he takes a drink of water to relieve the heat of the dusty road, finds what he’s been seeking after.

He just doesn’t know it yet.

“It’s not safe for you to be here.”

Rin swivels around abruptly at the voice, a deep and gravelly baritone that sounded like it comes from the very heart of the forest he’s about to enter, where the lake is supposedly located. For a brief moment, he can’t see anyone there under the swaying shadows of the trees and he wonders half-heartedly if he’s becoming mad with fear, but then as Rin lets out a shuddering breath, a figure steps out from behind one of the trunks.

“You shouldn’t be here,” the same man who gave the first warning speaks in a sombre tone, a little more insistent this time, and if Rin were to listen closely enough, he thinks he can even sense the underlying trace of controlled frustration beneath his seemingly calm voice and those hauntingly quiet sea-green eyes.

The stranger is beautiful – extraordinarily so: every features from his colossal stature, pale skin that contrasts stunningly with his dark brows and atrous locks that fall over his eyes, the shade of which fluctuates in the sunlight between azure of a summer sky and cool green of young bamboo leaves, to the exquisite silk haori that’s dyed griseous with a subtler pattern underneath and a matching black hakama that reaches his ankles. He’s barefooted but his feet look so clean that Rin wonders how that’s possible given that the surrounding ground is nothing but dry soil.  

There is no denying it even as Rin is momentarily dumbfounded by the fact that there is another human being in his presence in this desolate landscape with only the dark shadows of towering pine trees, needles rustling occasionally in the warm breeze, and the wings of birds fluttering as his only companion for the last few days.

When he finally locates his voice knowing that he’ll be able to keep his tone neutral and steady, Rin speaks with as much bluntness as he can because obviously that is the right tone to use when speaking to attractive strangers one meets on the way to his demise. “And who the hell are you to tell me whether or not I should be here? It’s a free path.”

“If you know what’s best for you, you will leave.” The stranger takes another step forward, his stride radiating intimidation and eyes glimmering dangerously, but Matsuoka Rin has never been the type to run away whimpering when being threatened, even when he knows he doesn’t stand a chance.

Rin looks him up and down again, convinced that the stranger is a rich man’s son, probably – though the reason why he’s found in such an isolated area of the country is beyond Rin’s comprehension, nor does he care to find out – and decides to tease him until he relents.

“Is that a threat?” Rin taunts, mouth curling up slightly in a sneer, and he’s forcing himself to take a step forward. Even from this distance, something about the man unsettles him. Maybe it’s the detached viridian of his eyes or the brute strength and silent authority he exudes merely from his still stature, but just the sight of the nameless man is enough for his mind to send him a warning that the stranger is dangerous in more ways than one.

But as usual, Rin ignores what the logical side of his brain offers. One of these days, his audacity for playing with fire will be his downfall, but today he’s willing to take the risk. There’s not much time left for him anyway.

“And what if it is?” There’s still no change to the expression on the man’s face, though there’s definitely a flicker of something – plead? Anxiety? – that has flashed across his eyes just for the briefest of moment. The lack of reaction he’s receiving from this stranger is starting to get on Rin’s nerves.

“Are you serious?” Rin barks out an unimpressed laugh, the sound harsh against the tranquility of their surroundings, and when the dark-haired man remains infuriatingly silent, he continues will a roll of his eyes. “Look, it’s not any of my business to ask why an aristocrat like yourself is milling around in such a place, so I’m not going to, and I don’t have the time nor patience to deal with the likes of you. But if you’ll just kindly let me finish resting and take my leave, I’d really appreciate it.”

With that said and determined not to speak to the strange man anymore, Rin pointedly turns around and strolls towards his mount, the animal mindlessly chomping on some grass, as he plans to spend the remaining of his short break near his horse while openly ignoring the presence of the other man.

Just when the silence has stretched on long enough for Rin to hope that the man has finally left him be, he hears him speak again, the voice rumbling low and resonant of nature’s infinite depth and intensity and making the redhead’s skin crawl with something akin to fear though he’d never admit it. “Are you going to Lake Muro?”

He’s not going to answer; Rin clamps his mouth shut as he gets ready to leave and it’s physically painful because he hasn’t spoken to anyone in the last two days and that, in itself, is already some kind of record, and it’s definitely not because the stranger is too beautiful and his voice has some kind of mystic magnetism that compels Rin to take in what he has to say.

When he does end up answering, Rin will argue that it’s out of reluctance and that he’s somehow been bewitched. “What of it?”

“I can take you there,” is the straightforward answer that Rin has never expected. He whips his head around so fast that his neck is feeling the strain, but he hardly cares because what did he just say?

“Why should I trust you?” It may only have been a second of hesitation, but Rin sincerely hopes that the other man is unable to tell.

“The climate in these mountains is fickle,” he answers with a solemn press of his lips as he looks up into the sky, currently still a clear, periwinkle shade with not a cloud in sight, though from the position of the sun, Rin guesses that evening is quickly approaching. “Thick fog will arrive in a few hours and it’ll be impossible to find your way out of these woods, especially with sunset only a couple of hours away.”

He’s got a point there, Rin thinks to himself as he surveys the environment around him once more. The forest he’s planning to enter looks thick and unpleasant even in the light of the sun, and it will only transform into a more hostile and foreboding beast in the shadow of night when nocturnal wildlife – of this earth or of the supernatural sort that Rin knows will frequent the holy grounds – will attack unsolicited human guests like himself without hesitation or remorse.

Rin glances over and notices that the man’s expression is still as blank as a piece of untouched parchment, but he’s waiting for his answer. He catches the bottom lip with his teeth, trying to hastily calculate the risk he’ll be taking in following this stranger into the unfamiliar forest versus venturing in on his own; he comes out with a conclusion fast enough.

He doesn’t like the sound of spending the night in the woods where visibility is close to zero; he didn’t come all this way to sacrifice his goddamn life for a drop of rain only to get eaten by a wild animal or a vicious spirit towards the end of his journey.

“Fine,” Rin finally relents with fists by his side. He places his belongings inside his sack and untied the rein of his horse from the tree before approaching the dark-haired man, his crimson eyes glaring straight into the other man’s teal ones without reserve.

When there are only two paces between them, Rin stops and has to crane his neck up a little to look at the taller man properly. Without so much as an explanation, he sticks his hand out with a blunt introduction, “Matsuoka Rin.”

The dark-haired man in the elegant attires stares first at his face, then at his outstretched hand, and then back at his face, his eyebrow slightly raising in confusion.

Rin sighs through his nose with impatience and clarifies, “I just thought, if we were going to travel together, we should at least know what to call each other, but… never mind.”

He’s about to retrieve his hand so as to not make a fool of himself any further when the other man reaches out and holds it firmly, his hand large and enveloping Rin’s more slender one, and his skin is dry and smooth, almost papery, and cool to the touch. “S-Sousuke,” he murmurs tentatively, eyes darting to Rin’s left, and he lets go before the redhead can recover from the shock and say something smug.

He shuffles his sack further up his shoulder unnecessarily, flexing his fingers that Sousuke has touched just seconds ago, and somehow still manages to find the confidence to send the man a cocky smirk. “Lead the way then, Sousuke.”

Without another word, Sousuke turns gracefully towards the woods where he first appeared out of, the fabric of the rich cloth he dons swaying behind him with majestic flourish, a serpentine tail glittering with pearlescent scales and biological makeup that is not of this world, except…

Rin blinks a few more times to ensure his sight is not tricking him, and in the span of seconds, the tail has vanished, leaving only the fluctuating drift of the silk hakama behind as Sousuke continues forward, his feet touching the ground without a sound – not a squelch of mud or crinkling of leaves.

He’s starting to have second thoughts about the identity of this Sousuke-without-a-surname, and his rash decision to follow him. Maybe he’s not an aristocrat after all, Rin mulls with a slight frown, though he can’t imagine what other class of people can afford such rich attires; the combination of Sousuke’s graceful though frank mannerisms, the opulent material of his clothing, the fact that he’s found wandering around in this part of the country, and the vision of the tail-like shadow he thought he saw behind the man’s back – all of this suggests that Sousuke is hiding more than he’s been letting on, and this should bother Rin more except it doesn’t – not really. 

“Are you a servant for one of the deities who reside on this mountain?” Rin finds himself asking before he has thought it through, and he snaps his mouth shut when he sees the man in front of him stiffens at his question. There’s a very good chance that he has guessed correctly, Rin figures, scratching his cheek uneasily after Sousuke remains silent for such a long moment that Rin thinks the dark-haired man may have decided to ignore his question.

“Something like that,” Sousuke murmurs, the answer, as Rin has expected, being vague as ever.

He drags his gaze back up to that dark mob of hair, tripping over displaced trunks and exposed roots a few times when he’s paying more attention to the way the occasional ray of sunlight will filter through the shadows of the trees and cast sprinkles of golden light across his skin and the trailing material of his garments.

“You’re not going to tell me who you are or what the hell you’re doing in the middle of nowhere, are you?” He probably shouldn’t care; he’s a dead man walking, so the difference between knowing his identity and being ignorant of it is of little significance to Rin, who most likely won’t even live to see tomorrow’s sunrise if Sousuke manages to get them to Lake Muro some time tonight.

Yet, looking at the wide expanse of Sousuke shoulders as he continues to follow him from behind, and the almost unnatural grace the man emanates in his movements, Rin feels strangely calm in the presence of a man he barely knows.

There was a two-day period after his father’s announcement of sending his only son to the mountains as an offering for the rain god in the hopes that the deity will pity them and grant them enough rainwater to survive another season when Rin had locked himself up in his room, refusing to see anyone. During those two days, rage reared its ugly head, and he had taken it out on various inanimate objects, breaking everything he could get his hands on until the brutal wrath simmered down into something heavier and more solid, more tangible: despair, and helplessness.

Before his mother and Gou, Rin worries more about their future in the village than his own life; for his father, Rin can only put up a courageous façade to assure him that this is the right path and he will not blame anyone but providence for it; in front of Sousuke, however, and despite their rough start, Rin feels the viscous trickle of serenity settling deep in his chest, as refreshing as water on a scorching day and as constant as clockwork.

True to Sousuke’s forecast, the fog begins to creep up the side of the mountain and descend in a white, murky mass into the forest as soon as the last of the sunlight disappears. Rin is forced to stick closer to the silent man still leading them, whose figure keeps getting swallowed by the thick mist before materializing again like an apparition.

It’s a winding path towards their destination, and the way is mostly uphill. Given that he’s been working in the fields since he was young, however, the hike up to the lake is not much of a problem for the red-haired young man, though he can’t say the same for his companion, who has started the climb with a rod-straight back and strong, sturdy footsteps that has now dwindled to shaky legs and shallow breaths, almost as if he’s in pain and every mouthful of air he swallows is filled with sand particles.

“Hey…” Rin begins to reach forward to touch his shoulder, until he senses something brushing the skin of his arm – breeze, maybe? ‘Weird,’ Rin thinks – and he halts. “Are you all right?”

“’M fine,” Sousuke replies in a raspy voice, his upper torso leaning forward haphazardly and he has an arm supporting against a tree trunk as he steps over a particularly large piece of fallen log – about to step over it but his foot catches on a loose rock and he starts to tumble headlong.

“Shit,” Rin reaches for him in a flash, sack and horse forgotten as he lets go of both, and grasps his arm just in time, but the unexpected momentum of the pull causes Sousuke to fall backwards instead and Rin, with a groan of added weight against his exhausted body, manages to catch his entire frame with his other arm.

Something damp and sticky touches the skin that’s in contact with Sousuke’s back, and even as the dark-haired man struggles to regain his footing, weakly pushing himself away from Rin while hissing in pain and panting heavily, the redhead can see a dark patch of maroon spreading across the cloth of his haori, the grey-blue tainting with thick, red blood that’s quickly turning the material black. It doesn’t look like it has any intention to stop.

Before Rin can even indicate his alarm, something else captures his undivided attention; it’s kind of hard not to stare when, suddenly flickering back to life like some sort of living thing, a tail encased with perse scales that’s like a serpent’s but with its end flaring out like a large feather-esque fin that looks at once soft and threatening when it’s swaying back and forth violently the way it’s currently doing.

“What the hell,” Rin only has time to murmur his amazement when the fact that his companion – his obviously-not-human companion – may be bleeding to death. Rin takes the few steps to catch up to him – an easy task given that Sousuke is still staggering, blood flowing freely from whatever injury that he’s hidden underneath the layers of clothing – and as gently as he can, slips his arm around the taller man’s shoulders in order to support his weight.

“What are you –– ?” Sousuke coughs out feebly and despite his seeming unwillingness to accept Rin’s help, his arm clasps around Rin’s waist a little tighter than before.

“Shut up and tell me how to help you,” Rin grits out under Sousuke’s full mass. “You’re not human, are you? You have a goddamn tail; of course you’re not human.” He ends up answering his own question in his rambling state. “Dragon spirit?”

Whether Sousuke is nodding his confirmation because of pain or reluctance, Rin can’t tell, but he does know that if the bleeding isn’t stopped soon, even an all-powerful spiritual being will fall.

“Sousuke, what do you need?” Rin’s tone is more urgent this time.

“H-home,” Sousuke points vaguely to their right. “We’re getting close to it.” Rin is about to roll his eyes, because getting him back to his residence is nice and all, but this is a life-and-death emergency, and Rin doubts dragging his half-dead body back to his home would be of any actual help, unless…

Rin stares unabashedly down at the dark-haired man and holds his gaze, the unbridled pain flickering across his teal depths, and his own eyes are glimmering a vibrant, brutal red, almost as bright as the blood that’s now dripping down to Sousuke’s tail and tainting the scales.

“Lake Muro…” Rin murmurs the name, the syllables suddenly becoming bitter on his tongue as his eyes widen in realization. “That’s where you live.”

That means Sousuke is the rain deity whom Rin has been searching for all this time; that means that he will most likely take Rin’s life the first chance he gets. The red-haired man looks down at the frail spirit in his arms: his eyes are closed, brows furrowing in deep creases, and throat swallowing with difficulty. His skin is turning cool and clammy, though Rin thinks, from their brief handshake earlier that day, that spirits probably have a lower body temperature than mortals anyhow.

He worries his lower lip between his teeth, mind reeling with the possibilities. The most obvious thing to do would be to save himself; here’s the perfect excuse for Rin to tell the villagers if he takes this option, “The rain deity is dead, and there was nothing I could do about it.” For if Rin leaves him right now, Sousuke’s chances of survival is close to nothing, not when he’s in his current state.

It’s the most logical thing to do under the circumstances, Rin argues in his head, yet his feet are still moving on autopilot, each step sinking into the moist soil with Sousuke’s extra weight. It’s not the right thing to do – he knows that as well as anyone with a trace of morality – but Rin has never been the type to volunteer to be the righteous hero; he has never fucking signed up for this.

Sousuke is saying something to him, but his voice is so soft that Rin has to ask him to repeat.

“Just. Leave,” the dragon god mouths the words deliberately slow.

Rin blinks a few times, and steals a quick glance down only to see that Sousuke still has his eyes shut tightly, frame shaking and clearly in agony. He lets out a small, ironic laugh, “You have no idea how tempting your suggestion is.”

‘And I must be a fool for saving you,’ Rin doesn’t say it out loud, his arms tightening around the deity’s body as he begins to quicken his pace when he sees speckles of blue light a few feet before them – a clearing is up ahead.

Sousuke doesn’t reply to his wry retort – too drained from the blood loss, perhaps – so when they finally get out of the forest, clothes with the occasional bits of pine needles sticking to them and the mist leaving beads of moisture on their hair, Rin wordlessly places him down on the grass and regards his environment with vigilance. 

Night has nestled itself well in the mountains; the flat plain is oddly free of any traces of fog, a sanctuary of clarity. Above them, the expanse of velvet black sky extends in all directions, and starlight arranged in fixed patterns of constellations that Rin doesn’t know the names of shine down merrily on them. To the east, the full moon gleams with a stark white that washes the clearing in a vibrant light, and the lake that stands before Rin glitters silently, though Rin can’t help but keep feeling like something lurking underneath the waters is whispering to him.

He shakes his head, trying to clear his head from any distracting thoughts, and returns his attention back to the injured man, who has started to cough faintly, his body convulsing and fingers desperately grasping the grass.

Rin retrieves his water-skin, dispensing the contents onto the ground, and fills it up again with water from the lake. If what he heard about the curative qualities of the water is true, then maybe drinking it would help; that’s what Rin’s hoping for as he shuffles closer to Sousuke’s worryingly still body. He’s not coughing anymore, and the redhead hastily places a finger near Sousuke’s nostrils to feel the very dim exhale of breaths.

“Try drinking this,” he tips Sousuke’s head up carefully, one hand supporting the back of his neck, the other holding the water-skin to his pale lips. “Come on.”  

When Sousuke opens his mouth a little with a pained sigh, Rin allows a few drops of water to trickle in, making sure that he’s swallowing, but he’s coughing again before Rin can consider feeding him more of the water.

If anything, the complexion of his face seems even worst after that – his skin looks ghostly ashen and he’s shaking so violently that his teeth chatters.

“Isn’t this lake supposed to hold the purest water or something?” If there’s a touch of panic in Rin’s voice, which has heightened in tone since his discovery of Sousuke’s excessive bleeding, neither of them has the desire to comment on it.

Seeing the crimson blood running into the soil gives Rin another idea, though just the mere thought of the process causes his cheeks to burn uncomfortably warm. He silently begs for the deity’s forgiveness when he gently pries the silky cloth of his wafuku off, though the action has proven to be a little tricky since Sousuke seems to be wearing quite a few layers even in the depth of summer, but with a few more firm but careful tugs and the dark-haired man’s soft moans of pain, Rin finally manages to get the top half of his clothing off save for the last layer and get Sousuke to lie on his stomach with his face turned to the side.

When he peels the material off of the wound as carefully as he can, Sousuke hissing underneath his fingers, he doesn’t overthink it when he offers his other hand for Sousuke to hold – his fingers crushing his hand the moment their skin touch, and Rin has to bite his lip hard to stop himself from voicing out his own discomfort. He attempts to splash some of the water on Sousuke’s injury without much grace, but it has only diluted the blood into a lighter pink as more of the liquid come gushing out, and Sousuke lets out a loud sobbing gasp, his clutch on Rin’s hand excruciatingly tight.

“I thought deities bath in this shit to heal!”

“T-too tainted,” Sousuke rasps out.

At least the water has cleared away the half-dried blood somewhat, and Rin can vaguely see the actual injury – an incision from the top-middle of his back that sweeps across his right shoulder blade, and Rin’s fairly sure that the white he sees underneath the mess of mangled flesh and pooling blood is bone.

“God,” Rin breathes, sitting back on his heels when it registers just how serious Sousuke’s injury is.

What’s that herb that can stop bleeding again? Rin racks his panic-ridden mind for the name as the other man’s breathing turns shallow and quick, and the grimace on his previously impassive face is an expression that’s more frightening than the mask of indifference he’s worn. How he’s managed to hold it off for this long, Rin doesn’t know.

“I’m going to look for some herbs that’ll encourage coagulation,” Rin tells him, a hand on his clammy cheek and he waits until Sousuke blinks open his eyes and gives a slight nod before pushing himself up and starts for the direction of the woods again. “Don’t die on me, damn it.”

When he returns to the clearing with bunches of yarrow leaves wrapped hastily with some cloth, the moon having migrated just a tiny bit and Rin doesn’t want to know how much time has passed or how he’s miraculously found his way back in this darkness, Sousuke is not there anymore.

Not the human form that Rin has became acquainted with anyway.

Instead, a dragon that’s approximately five times the size of Sousuke’s human body lies there, panting vociferously through his snout. If he isn’t driven by the adrenaline that urges him forward, Rin would have stood rooted to his spot in awe of the true spirit form of the rain deity, not knowing whether to just slip away before the dragon notices or continue staring at the exquisite pearlescent scales that run from celadon-tone near his head to a dark shade of corbeau near his tail-fin.

A soft growl emits from the deep of the creature’s sternum, the talons of his front paws the size of scythes that farmers use to cut wheat crops clawing deep into the earth, abruptly brings Rin out of his reverie as he hurries towards the dragon and drops to his knees close to the site of his wound, made more terrible from the sheer size of it now that Sousuke has returned to his original dimension.

There’s still blood streaming down, though it has slowed down quite a bit from before, but when Rin gingerly touches the surrounding scales, the serpentine body shudders and a low snarl can be felt through his skin.

“Sorry, sorry,” Rin mutters as he quickly sets out to work, pouring water over the mass of red flesh and blue scales until most of the blood clears off enough for him to put the yarrow leaves atop the sweltering cut before tearing one of his sleeves off, soaking it into the lake water, and placing it delicately over the herbs to make a poultice.

Soon after, Sousuke’s breathing evens, his huge eyes slipping closed and his body lenient in uneasy slumber.

Rin knows next to nothing about the healing rate of draconic deities – until he became acquainted with Sousuke a few hours ago, the concept of dragons and spirits is so ambiguous in his mind, the image only conjured up through the stories that he heard during childhood, that Rin is almost convinced this trip to offer up his life for a bit of rainfall is nothing but a hoax to kick him out of the village – so he stays close by Sousuke’s side just in case, his soft snores a sort of rhythmic sound that is almost lulling enough for Rin to fall asleep after a day’s worth of adventure.

Only now when Sousuke has fallen unconscious in his dreams does Rin have a chance to gawk at the gargantuan size of the rain god that people have so feared, and just how stunning his true form is even when he’s in rest. He realizes belatedly that, in full health and strength, Sousuke can probably crush a puny human like Rin with his paw without even trying, and the thought of dying under such circumstances should send Rin running earlier on before he allows the situation to spiral out of control into this – whatever this is.

Somewhere deep in the forest, a bird or a spirit flutters its wings, and the leaves sing their subdued song as cool, summer breeze meanders through the thick fog, and the moon continues its trek across the indigo sky dusted with stars.

When Rin next becomes conscious, the morning fog has already been burned away by the fierce sun, leaving only a bubble of comfortable warmth that seeps into the grass and earth beneath him. He blinks slowly, eyes gummed down with sleep, and eventually realizes that he’s been leaning against something during his slumber; that something is cool and smooth to the touch, only lined with endless crests of sea-tone scales that glitter like tiny jewels in the sunlight. Still dazed from having just woken up, Rin doesn’t think too much when he reaches out to run a gentle hand up and down a spot; warmth emanates from beneath the scales, thawing the stiffness from his fingertips.

“Are you quite finished?”

Rin jostles awake at the familiar voice – shouldn’t be familiar, too dangerous – that doesn’t quite come from the body he’s still leaning against, though the echo of his words reverberates deep in his head, strangely intimate. He quickly scrambles to get himself up and a little away from the dragon, and finds that large, intelligent teal eyes are gazing at him with a hint of curiosity and amusement.

“How do you do that?”

Rin waves a hand vaguely towards him; he’s not sure if Sousuke understands his gesture but it’s honestly too early for him to have to deal with a dragon, especially an injured dragon who may or may not kill him at anytime he chooses.

“Do what?” Is he laughing at him? The smug bastard.

“That!” Rin throws out his arms for emphasis. “It’s like… you’re not physically speaking but I can hear you in my head. It’s creepy.”

A low rumble of chuckle before Sousuke replies, “Telepathic communication. All deities in their non-human form can do it.”

“Still creepy,” Rin comments idly as he stretches, arms reaching skyward, and that’s when Sousuke notices something amiss, his gem-like eyes lingering on the skin and flexing muscles of the human’s arm.

“What happened to your sleeve?”

“I was making a poultice for your wound,” Rin answers, “Speaking of which, I should probably change that.” He glances at the blood-soaked cloth with a small grimace, and removes it, along with the mushed up leaves, as carefully as he can off the incision. He feels the slight tremors running along Sousuke’s body, though his mind is void of his voice, unsure of whether the silence is from pain or the shame of feeling pain.

When he turns around from the lakeside with a clean cloth in his hands after scrubbing at it viciously for several minutes, his fingers raw with friction and icy water, he almost drops the fabric. Instead, he squeaks out an alarmed, “holy shit.” Rin would later argue that he did not, in fact, “squeak” because that simply is something Matsuoka Rin doesn’t do.

“Now what?” A small smirk plays along his lips, his sea-green eyes glimmering with mischief and black hair tousled by morning draft. Rin’s heart is hammering at the sight before him despite all the warnings the logical side of his mind is throwing at him, not because of Sousuke’s sudden transformation back into the shape of a man, which is surely much less intimidating than his dragon form, but because of his unannounced transformation back into a very decidedly naked man, not a piece of clothing in sight to cover him.

Other than the claret slash that marks his shoulder blade, his skin is pristine to a fault; Sousuke’s still lying on his stomach, so the red-haired man doesn’t see his manhood – he doesn’t know whether to curse or thank the stars – but just the mere image of his back, knobs of his vertebrae visible beneath the pale skin, that flawlessly flows into the swell of his ass and the teasing sway of his tail, the ivory smoothness of his skin begging to be touched and licked, and no, Rin is not thinking about that – tracing with his fingertips, pressing kisses with his mouth, biting… He really, really isn’t.

His tongue darts out to wet his suddenly very dry lips, and he clears his throat before he averts his eyes to the side and mumbles, “You couldn’t transform back with clothes on?”

“Takes out too much of my energy,” is Sousuke’s easy reply. And yes, that is a valid reason, Rin supposes, but it isn’t fair.

“Well next time, a warning would be nice,” Rin only says, voice tight.

He kneels down beside Sousuke rigidly and proceeds to place some new yarrow leaves on the wound and cover it up again with the wet cloth. As expected, the incision has begun to heal overnight, and the sickly white of his bone is already concealed beneath newly regenerated flesh. Rin wonders for a brief moment whether it will leave a scar.

He then decides that there are other things he should be thinking about.

The excess water droplets that roll down his broad back and disappear beyond his hipbone leave trails of goose-bumps behind, and as the breeze dances a little stronger, Rin can sense the other man’s shivering though he never utters a complaint.

He heaves a small sigh, wondering what the hell he’s doing with his soon-ending life, when he shrugs off his own threadbare haori, an indistinct shade of beige with smudges of dirt from his travelling, and sets it over Sousuke’s bare back without a word.

“Rin?” Sousuke tries to sit up properly, grunting in pain when he jostles his injury with the careless movement, and Rin has to help him up by acting as his temporary crutch for Sousuke to lean his body against. With a grumbling of words that Sousuke can’t quite catch, Rin fixes the haori so that it sits more securely on the dark-haired man’s broad shoulders.

Sousuke’s weight against his bare arm should be stifling, a warning; they shouldn’t be in such close proximity – a human and a dragon deity, two polar opposites in the infinite spectrum of the cosmos.

Yet, here they are, sitting side by side, arms touching and sharing heat, breathing patterns rising and falling to the same rhythm, and looking out at the same scenery.

Rin feels oddly peaceful at this very moment, and he lets his eyes slipped close, the thinnest wall of defense dissolving around him.

When he opens his eyes again, Rin’s not sure how much time has passed; the sun seems brighter in his eyes, and he turns to face Sousuke, who hasn’t spoken during the entire time since they sat together.

“Who did this to you?”

Sousuke freezes at the question, eyes turning frantic as he searches for something else to look at while evading Rin’s inquisitive gaze. He bites his lower lip, and it looks like he’s about to answer but can’t.

“You don’t have to –– ”

“The same one who poisoned the lake,” Sousuke’s words are slurred, anger permeating into his soft voice and hands gathering into shaking fists. “The same bastard who murdered my parents.”

“Murder?” Rin slaps a hand over his mouth, but it’s too late. The word doesn’t seem to bother Sousuke though, for he motions for Rin to help him up, and they shuffle closer to the bank so that Rin can immerse his bare feet into the lake while Sousuke leans forward and scoops up a small handful of water.

Something in his eyes flicker – sorrow, maybe, or remorse, Rin can’t really tell – as Sousuke spreads his fingers apart and watches the clear liquid trickle down back into its source, each droplet causing small swells to start and grow across the mirror surface, distorting their reflections.

“Look,” Sousuke points to their right, and Rin stretches his neck to see what he’s pointing at. “In the water. Do you see them?”

Rin’s just about to ask what he’s supposed to be looking for, but then the refraction of sunlight catches glints of white beneath the clear blue of the water: the structure of elongated skulls and horns sprouting from temples, flesh no long attached, and coiling together are serpentine skeletons that unfurl and drape across the floor of the lake like overgrown ivory corals. When his eyes finally focus enough to put together an image in his head, he can’t scramble out of the water fast enough, and Sousuke gives him a wry smile, his irises wintry green, at the reaction he has expected.

“What the hell – is that ––? Are they –––?”

“My mother and father – poisoned to death,” Sousuke explains as if he’s just commenting on the weather, so detached is his voice, but when Rin glances over, he observes the slow burn of wrath simmering in his eyes and the downturned corner of his mouth. “All because some jealous, greedy, pathetic excuse of a god wanted to take our land and claimed it as his own. They say humans are capricious and gluttonous creatures, but gods –– ” Sousuke lets out a cold, humourless laugh that sends chills down Rin’s spine, “ –– gods are no different.”

“When did it…?”

“Two months ago,” Sousuke nods to himself.

And Rin sits up straighter with sudden comprehension. ‘That’s when the drought first started.’

“They ambushed us,” Sousuke continues, oblivious to Rin’s change of posture, “and I was stupid enough to let myself think for a second that having a civilized discussion with them would solve anything.” He shakes his head, his frame shaking so uncontrollably Rin is afraid he might collapse at any moment.

His arm hovers just behind Sousuke, far from making an actual contact, and as much as Rin wishes to tell him that everything will elapse with the passage of time, he understands well that this is neither the occasion nor his place to say such things. So Rin doesn’t speak, quietly letting the complex waves of melancholy and rage wash over Sousuke in surges that can’t be felt by anyone but himself, and after a long while, Sousuke releases a slow, steady breath, turning to face the red-haired man once more.

Rin gets a sense that Sousuke doesn’t want to talk about this anymore; he probably feels that he’s already revealed too much. Under the intense scrutiny of the dark-haired man Rin feels almost the same way – exposed, vulnerable – without uttering one, single word.

“Why are you here, Matsuoka Rin?”

Sousuke’s expression has returned to its usual apathy, but there’s something brutally sincere in the way his voice wraps around his full name.

‘To play hero’ Rin wants to say it as a joke, but it sounds even less funny in his head, so he doesn’t. ‘To beg for rain. To save my people. To save my family. To die.’

“Rain…” Rin murmurs, eyes lowering to the ground at their hands that are less than an inch apart. There’s an invisible boundary Rin knows he shouldn’t cross – doesn’t dare to – so he looks away and stares at the distant whistling trees instead.

“Pardon?” Sousuke shifts a little closer, but at this point, Rin is too preoccupied by the very dreadful, and very real, possibility that once the truth spills from his mouth, he will never be able to take it back, and his life will be in the hands of the deity sitting before him.

He’s already risked his life once by saving the dragon, didn’t he? He has understood the consequences of playing the hero once he’s decided to venture out into the woods last night only to return with herbs and an unlikely hope that he could bring the creature back, hasn’t he?

“Rain,” Rin speaks louder, the syllable rings clear in the air. He turns to face the other man, bright crimson eyes bravely meeting Sousuke’s, and there’s a very strange expression on Rin’s face: he’s smiling, but it feels forced – doesn’t touch his eyes – like he should be content, but just the very lift of the corner of his lips is taking every ounce of his effort and mental strength, like if he doesn’t hold up a strong front, he’d crumble and fall away, giving himself to the wind. “The village where I come from in the south province has been suffering from drought; we won’t even have enough food to survive winter at this rate. So the village leader – my father – sends me here looking for the rain deity Zennyou Ryou. That would be you, I guess.”

By the time he reaches the end of his little speech, Rin is looking elsewhere again.

“That used to be my father’s title,” Sousuke starts softly, and he glances out towards the far end of the lake. With the sunlight glaring so dazzlingly in his eyes, Sousuke can almost trick himself into thinking that the circumference of the lake is boundless; the other end of the shore a distant dream, a myth. “I suppose… I suppose that I was too entwined within my own misery and problems to take note of what’s happening around me, that I have forgotten my obligation to this world.”

“It’s –– I mean, it’s totally understandable, with what happened to your parents and all that,” Rin babbles, but words just feel clumsy and wrong, tangled in his tongue and caught in his throat, and he really should shut his mouth now, shouldn’t he?

Sousuke sends him a dark, pointed glare but says nothing. Deep down, he knows he has to partake the responsibility – as his father’s legacy to the title of the rain deity Zennyou Ryou – of answering to human’s earnest prayers and granting them their wishes of seasons with bountiful precipitation in the hopes of survival during difficult times.

Sousuke and his family have not once been visited by a human asking for rain, though the deities and humans never required that kind of interaction in the past. As a child, Sousuke watched his father from the lakeside with interest as the dragon, in his elegant human form with a head of very distinctive salt and pepper hair that flowed past his shoulder blades, spoke to the mysterious creatures living in the lake that carry people’s wishes on their backs.

The living things underwater are not quite fish, though they can pass as the species if one doesn’t look too closely and notice the vaguely lizard-like features on their faces. Even as a deity himself, Sousuke isn’t sure how these creatures get a hold of the wishes. Are they telepathic like the gods, or are the spiritual voices of the living really that strong, enough to reach another realm?

“What ––” Rin swallows, the words refusing to come out but he’s too determined to let them die on his tongue. “What do I have to do in order for you to bestow rainfall upon our lands, Zennyou Ryuo-sama?”

Sousuke flinches when he uses the formal title, but Rin trudges on because if he doesn’t do it now, he knows his cowardice – his desire to live – will flare into an all-consuming flame and it’ll be that much harder to maintain that aloof attitude.

“I will do anything,” Rin says and ducks his head, knowing fully what he’s getting himself into with this promise.

Sousuke raises his brow at the vague, easily misinterpreted statement, and Rin obviously takes it the wrong way because the next thing that bursts out is, “You can take my life, if that’s what you desire.” And he looks deadly petrified after the declaration, too, all tremors in his limbs and worrying his lower lip into rawness.   

Sousuke feels kind of guilty for the first reaction that rises out of him, but he can’t help it; his lips twitch into the smallest of amused smirk before laughter comes bubbling out from the depth of his chest and spilling out of his mouth, the sound rich and golden. “What will I do with your life, Matsuoka Rin?”

“I-I don’t know,” Rin shrugs helplessly, his tone frantic. “Whatever you dragon deities do with human souls?”

“We don’t feed on souls, or collect them for that matter,” Sousuke tells him calmly like it’s the most obvious fact. This is apparently news to Rin, however, and he finds himself exhaling in relief, realizing that the dragon doesn’t really want to devour his soul or whatever it is that his father’s stories were telling him all these years after all of his previous fretting and distress. “Besides, you saved me. What kind of a deity would I be if I repay your kindness by taking your life?”

Sousuke gives the redhead a small smile – a simple gesture in itself, but Rin appreciates it all the same, and returns an easy grin of his own.

“So, you’ll do it then? Make rain for us?”

“On one condition.”

“I knew it,” Rin sighs but remains quiet to hear the deity’s request. It’s not like he has a choice in the matter.

“Remain by my side after this, and I will ensure that your village and the surrounding areas will always have enough rainfall to grow crops and prosper for as long as I live.” His expression stays impassive though his eyes are solely trained on Rin, who has opened and closed his mouth a few times but no words manage to come out.

The redhead turns abruptly towards him, a defiant light in his eyes as he mutters in disbelief, “You’re serious about this. Why would you want to take in a human?”

“I don’t need to explain myself to you,” Sousuke says matter-of-factly with a hint of a smile that’s edging on intimidating.

Rin can’t even argue with that, because he’s right, of course. He’s a goddamn deity; he doesn’t have to explain anything to anyone if he so chooses. Still, Rin isn’t even aware of the discontented pout that’s slowly forming along his mouth, and Sousuke sighs at the sight while also thinking that such a childish, immature expression has no right to look so endearing on a fully-grown man.

To dispel that particular disturbing train of thought, Sousuke averts his eyes and replies, “My enemy will no doubt take advantage of my weakened state and the lack of defensive tactics; I will need someone to safeguard this land with me in case they take the offensive.”

“And what makes you think a puny human like myself would be of any help?” Rin raises a critical brow. “You can crush me in your original form.” Sousuke probably knows this, but Rin feels the need to remind him nevertheless, because the dragon deity’s suggestion is making less and less sense the more Rin tries to understand it.

“There are ways to enhance a human’s physical strength,” Sousuke only says, but doesn’t elaborate. Rin’s not going to ask either.

“Fine, I’ll stay.” It’s easier if he accepts right away. His family – no, the entire village – would have assumed the worst and presumed him to be dead the moment he left. There’s no reason for him to return, and he can always ask the dragon deity for a favour should he change his mind in the future.

Sousuke nods, though he seems distracted as he draws a finger through the water.

“What’s wrong now?”

“For me to create rain, I need to first purify this lake in order for my full powers to return, and during the purification process, my parents’ bones…” Sousuke’s hands are shaking as the next words leave him, “they will most likely dissipate under the chemical alteration of the water.”

Rin remains quiet for a brief moment, debating whether he should say something to lift the gloom around them; Sousuke might not appreciate his input, and hasn’t his mother always told him to think before he speaks? Yet, as he glances over, the ache displayed on his face – in the cruel twist of his lips, the blood-shot eyes that still refuse to let tears fall – is so palpable that Rin decides to fling all caution to the wind.

“Maybe it’s not in my place to comment on this, and I hope I don’t come across as being disrespectful to your parents,” Rin starts off slowly, his voice gentle, and Sousuke looks at him like he can’t quite make him out, “but isn’t it better to let them go? Not your memories of them! I mean, I think your parents would have wanted you to do the right thing. Instead of preserving them in the form of their deaths, wouldn’t it be more meaningful if you keep them in your thoughts by carrying out their wishes as if they were living still – to answer to people’s prayers?”

He begins to falter when Sousuke doesn’t say anything, just stares straight at the lake with a thoughtful hum. “I-I mean. Never mind that. Just.” He turns his head away in embarrassment; he has probably spoken too much, and he shouldn’t forget that he’s speaking to a deity after all.

 A few seconds of absolute silence tick by, in which Rin is panicking just a tiny bit because ‘oh gods, what if I have offended him?’, and then Sousuke is speaking again, pitch soft and rumbling, like distant thunder that’s more reassuring than threatening.

“You may be right, Rin.” Sousuke runs a hand through the water and scoops some up into his palm again, except this time, when he spreads his fingers apart, the water crawls up into the air above his open hand and spirals in small swirls, the undulating liquid glittering like thousands of facets of crystals as the light of the sun hits it directly.

“I-I am?” Rin is staring at the dancing water controlled by Sousuke’s nimble digits, awed by the beauty and the ease with which Sousuke seems to be able to manipulate the element.

“It’s strange, but,” Sousuke turns to face him with a faint smile, warm and unguarded, and there’s something unspeakably tender about the way it lights up his sea-green eyes just a little bit, “I think you and my father would have gotten along quite well, if they were still around.”

“Y-you think so?”

“Hmm.” Sousuke returns his gaze to the water in his hand, and lets it drop back into the lake once more.

“Help me up?”

Rin slides his arm around the other man’s shoulders and provides support as Sousuke gets to his feet, hissing with the discomfort of his back injury and legs slightly trembling.

He closes his eyes, expression fading back to blankness, as he murmurs a series of what Rin assumes to be chants or spells in a language that humans have no chance of comprehending while drawing complicated patterns in the air with his index and middle fingers. A warm, white glow begins to burn from the center of his bare torso, just a small pinprick of light at first, and then it’s spreading like a gaping hole of blinding radiance that Rin can barely keep his eyes open.

Something begins to emerge from the light, particles rearranging into a solid shape – a handle of some sort – and Sousuke grasps it and pulls. The light and heat radiating from Sousuke is almost unbearable, but Rin holds on to him as the dark-haired man shakes with exertion, droplets of sweat begin to form on his brows and trickle along his glowing skin.

When the brightness finally subsides and Rin can look in Sousuke’s direction directly without wincing, there is a blade of aged silver held tightly in the dragon deity’s hand. The guard is engraved with delicate designs and coated with a few small shards of moonstone and aquamarine, and the blade shines with a chilling, blue sheen when the sun hits the edge.

Rin shuts his mouth with an audible snap after the initial shock, his next comment dripping with sarcasm. “Really? You can summon a sword but you’ve got no energy for some pants?”

“Why? Are you bothered by my bareness?” He drops his arm and lets the tip of the blade drag on the grass easily, his eyes glancing to the side where Rin is pointedly looking away.

“N-not really.”

“Tch. If it’s really such a problem for you, then…”

When Rin turns around, Sousuke is now dressed in the black hakama that he has worn when they first met, but Rin’s tattered jacket is still stretched across his shoulders, and it doesn’t seem like Sousuke has any intention of taking it off.

“Now that that’s been taken care of, shall we continue?”

Without waiting for Rin’s reply, Sousuke throws the sword high up with a vicious flick of his arm, and the movement should have caused him immense agony, but he merely grits his teeth and sets his jaw, refusing to let physical pain get in the way. As the weapon starts to descend after rotating several arcs in the air, Sousuke mutters another trills of enchantments while aiming the two fingers at the plunging sword as the tip hovers just above the surface of the lake, its energy emitting small currents that grow outwards, before submerging into the water half-way with its blade glowing cerulean.

Rin has no idea what kind of spell Sousuke is casting under his breath, but even he can see the immeasurable power his words have over the sword and how the weapon must be causing some kind of chemical reaction in the water as the clear blue of the lake gradually, from the location of where the sword is standing, transforms into milky white and when the white gives way to a pearlescent sheen that splinters into thousands of nameless colours, like molten gems all mixed together, the sword is radiating a deeper blue, and the heat discharged from it is enough to cause the water to bubble and the two men to sweat while standing near the shore.

The process may have taken fifteen minutes, or two hours; Rin honestly can’t tell as sweat continues to pour down his face and into his eyes, stinging them; the ends of his hair are dripping and the red has been darkened from sheen of perspiration. Still, he doesn’t dare stray too far away from Sousuke, who has his eyes solely glued to the blade as his mouth murmurs endlessly in a language that should sound strange to Rin’s ear but the way his tone rises and falls sounds almost like he’s singing a melody that only nature can understand.

As the bubbles dwindle and the steam gets blown away, the opaque water that has once looked like molten metal eventually clears up, every ripple across the surface turning the lake more and more transparent so that when Sousuke finally summons the blade back into his shivering hands, the water has returned to its original state of clean, clear blue.

With a soft and tired sigh, Sousuke collapses, his shoulders sagging with exhaustion as Rin hovers closer to wrap his arms protectively around his frame.

He lowers them both carefully to the ground. When Sousuke blearily blinks his eyes open, however, he tries to get up, but Rin is insistent, telling him in a tone that most likely would have earned him a death sentence ten times over were he speaking to another deity, “Will you sit your fucking ass down? You look like you’re about to keel over.”

“You’re so crude, Rin,” he chuckles lightly, but doesn’t argue this time, lying down on his stomach to let the redhead peel off his shirt that has been soaked with sweat, only to revealed a cut that has now puckered into a light pink scar, tender and a shade lighter than the surrounding skin.

Rin reaches a hand and draws a finger lightly across the scar, his eyes having grown so big with amazement that Sousuke is about to interrupt his gawking with a mocking comment of his own. The mystic power of Lake Muro is miraculous, Rin thinks to himself, marvelling at the fact that not half a day ago, Sousuke’s wound was still bleeding profusely.

“Are you quite done?” Sousuke asks with a straight face, though it’s hard keeping the obvious amusement out of his voice.

Rin stammers, quickly moving his hand away and putting his too-small jacket back on the man’s back if only to save himself from further humiliation, “I-I just wanted to make sure that your wound didn’t reopen itself, that’s all!”

“Right…”

“And it looks fine now, so. Um.” Rin pats the upper part of his back awkwardly and retrieves his hand as soon as Sousuke shoots him a glance that’s an infuriating mix of smugness and mirth.

“Thank you.” Sousuke groans as he pulls himself up; the injury may have been mostly healed, but the area is still sore and adding to the energy spent cleansing the lake, though he would insist on summoning precipitation as per Rin has requested, his body refuses to cooperate, and he finds himself leaning to the side until his shoulder hits Rin’s slightly more slender one.

“Sou – I mean, Zennyou Ryuo-sama,” Rin corrects himself, face burning. After witnessing the purification ritual, Rin has no doubt that Sousuke is a formidable deity and should be addressed and treated as such.

“‘Sousuke’ is fine,” he replies, eyes slipping closed. The sun is warm behind his eyelids, the light breeze cooling the sweat prickling on his skin, and sprawling beside him is Rin, who has became uncharacteristically quiet. The thought of his parents’ remains, now merged with the water particles and in a strange way, able to stay by his side for many eons to come, is a peaceful one. “The title is too stifling.”

“It is who you are though,” Rin reminds him, though not unkindly.

“Hmm. I know, I know. You’re too loquacious.” There’s no venom in Sousuke’s voice, just a hint of teasing laced in his deep baritone.

“Well, you’re stuck with me now,” he rolls his eyes.

At that, Sousuke opens his eyes once more, blinking slowly in the bright sunlight as he works out his remarks carefully. “About what I said earlier – the condition for you to stay – don’t take it too much to heart.”

He feels the red-haired man beside him stiffens, and Sousuke continues with a sigh. “It’s a test to see whether you are sincere regarding the appeal. I saw that you were even willing to give up your own life in order to save your family and village, and for that I respect your earnestness. You need not stay here if you wish to return home; I will not hold you captive. You are free to go whenever you want to, and I promise I will keep to my part of our agreement and produce sufficient rainfall for your village every year.”

When Rin grows silent, Sousuke considers moving his body a few inches away, thinking that he may have said something strange. When Rin speaks again, he has turned his entire body so that he’s facing Sousuke, his crimson eyes glimmering with such intensity that Sousuke is unable to look elsewhere, and his voice is gentle yet resolved.

“When I make a promise with someone, I have no intention of breaking my word.”

His meaning cannot be any clearer.

He doesn’t flinch, meeting Sousuke’s gaze head-on, and then Sousuke’s laughing – full on booming laughter with his head thrown back, unrestrained and wild, dark strands of his bangs falling into his brightened eyes – and Rin gives his own little embarrassed grin.

“That’s enough resting,” Sousuke announces when his breathing returns to normal. He stretches his arms carefully over his head, testing the pull of his back muscles and nods to himself in satisfaction.

“Are you sure?” Rin scrambles to get up after Sousuke, who begins to walk a little way off closer to the edge of the lake.

“Very,” Sousuke sends him a confident smile, and Rin has been rendered wordless in less than one second.

Motioning Rin to stand back and facing the glittering surface of the lake, Sousuke gently lays Rin’s jacket down on the grass beside him. He takes in a deep breath, and dives straight into the water, a perfect arc of body and limbs suspended in the air before he enters the water in an elegant angle and the minimum of splashes.

“Damn,” Rin runs to the verge of the lake and peers down, attempting to search for Sousuke’s figure.

Before Rin can start panicking, sprinkles of white light shoot through the water and a moment later, Rin is forced to retreat a few paces back as an elongated figure flies out from the lake, sending bursts of water in every direction and drenching Rin and the surrounding area.

‘Beautiful,’ Rin marvels, blinking against the sunlight with his neck craned back and watching Zennyou Ryou soars powerfully towards the azure heaven, its snake-like body meandering gracefully in the air and disappearing into turfs of clouds only to reappear again moments later.

Wind begins to gather, the trees whistling forebodingly around him, and the sky darkens into an ashen grey and violet.

The dragon seems to have submerged into the dense clouds for Rin cannot spot the deity’s form anymore. A drop of rain that signifies the first of the many long-awaited rainstorms kisses his lower lip, and Rin darts out a tongue to taste the sweet freshness that he has missed for so long. He extends his arms with palms facing skyward, perhaps to catch the raindrops, knowing very well he never can but not caring in the slightest.

A rumble of thunder makes the land tremble under his feet – or maybe it’s Sousuke’s roar from above – for among the heavy curtains of rainfall, the dragon has reappeared in the sky and is now darting towards the land, towards Rin.

“Impressed?” The smug tone reverberates in Rin’s head.

Rin tsks but tries to send him a bright grin, though Sousuke may be too far away to see it. “Slightly.”

Sousuke doesn’t say anything – just laughs and laughs, the sound jingling pleasantly within Rin – and Rin wonders if what he said is that hilarious. Then he decides it really doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t matter because as Sousuke glides closer, his jewel-green eyes focusing on Rin’s form on earth, who’s drenched to the bone and smiling up at him, gratitude and happiness spiralling into a breathless high, Rin’s heart clenches for the loss of his family,

(‘Not loss,’ he thinks a little ruefully. ‘Just temporary leave.’ And they will live; they will survive and thrive.) but his heart now beats for a new reason.

“Just slightly impressed, huh?” Sousuke is walking towards him in his human form now, dark hair plastered over his forehead and skin glistening with raindrops. He looks right at home, the element greeting him with open arms like a waiting friend.

“You’re going to have to try harder.”

“I intend to.”