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Another flash of lightning streaked across the night sky. Roka cringed at the boom of thunder that followed. The boy tore his eyes away from the second story window and padded down the wooden floorboards toward the door to his parent’s room. Giving the door a soft but hurried knock he reached high for the knob and let himself in.
Kakashi and Mei’s room was large and dark but Roka was determined. He had to reach the safety of his parent’s bed before the next flash of lightning. His little feet hurried him over to Mei’s side of the bed, which was closer to the door, when another bolt of lightning made its dash for the ground.
The room lit up instantly, the frightening light shining in through the glass balcony doors. Roka’s eyes were drawn to that light despite his fear. In the doorframe stood a tall figure, inky black against the burst of light outside. Instead of being frightened, Roka was reassured at the sight. The boy didn’t need to see the man’s face to know who stood at the window. He drew his father’s attention with a quiet word so he would not wake his mother.
“Daddy?”
Kakashi’s slouched shoulders straightened and he turned from the window. “Roka?”
The boy nearly stumbled over his own feet as he raced around the bed toward his father. Kakashi took two strides to meet him. He knelt down as Roka flew into his arms. The boy buried his face in Kakashi’s shoulder, tiny hands grasping fistfuls of his father’s shirt.
Kakashi put his arms around his son, shifting into a sitting position with his back to the window and Roka in his lap. “What is it? Did you have a nightmare?”
Roka shook his head, effectively wiping his tears on the black shirt Kakashi wore. Another streak of lightning lit up the room and the roll of thunder that followed made Roka tense into a ball. Kakashi instinctively tightened his grip, pulling Roka closer to him.
“Are you afraid of the storm?”
Roka nodded, still not looking up from the safety of his father’s lap. Kakashi sighed and shifted again so that his back was to the footboard of his and Mei’s bed. He leaned into it, holding Roka to his chest.
“The thunder can’t hurt you, and the lightning isn’t a threat, at least not to us,” Kakashi tried. He knew using logic probably wouldn’t work but he thought he’d try anyway.
Roka’s wide eyes looked up hesitantly. “It’s still loud, and scary.”
Kakashi nodded down at his son. “You’ve got me there. But I won’t let it get you, okay? If I hold you, do you think you’ll be able to get to sleep?”
Roka shrugged his tiny shoulders. Then he jumped and burrowed his face into Kakashi’s chest as the room was lit up once more. His reaction wasn’t nearly as violent when the thunder resounded throughout the wooden house. It boomed with a force that reverberated within their very chests. It felt like their own hearts were beating extra strokes to match the storm’s fury. Kakashi glanced over at his sleeping wife.
Mei was used to any kind of rain there was. She’d told him once that in parts of Water Country, there were thunderstorms that occurred daily like clockwork. Those storms poured their rain for an hour and then left as quickly as they came. Be it a drizzle, virga, sheets of rain, or cloudbursts, Mei had seen it all. Kakashi wasn’t surprised that she was sleeping right through this storm.
When the booming was over with, Roka looked up at his father’s face. Kakashi repeated his question. He got a solid, “maybe,” in response. Roka settled against his father’s chest once more but then popped back up again. The boy frowned and asked, “Daddy did the storm scare you too?”
Kakashi’s mask hid a bitter smile while his eyes remained passive. “No,” he said slowly, “not exactly.” His mind was already working ahead on how to explain this to his inquisitive son.
The inevitable question came a moment later. “Why weren’t you sleeping?” Roka’s innocent eyes watched him intently.
After a moment of consideration Kakashi replied, “the storm reminds me of something, and I can’t sleep when I’m thinking about it.”
“What does it re-remind you of,” Roka quickly asked. Their voices remained quiet for Mei’s consideration. The emphasis on quiet made the entire conversation seem like a secret meeting.
Kakashi watched the floor. Deciding on a bit of the truth, and hoping that Mei wasn’t going to slap him for this later, Kakashi said, “thunderstorms remind me of the night your grandpa died. It makes me sad.”
“Oh,” was all Roka said. The boy leaned his face into Kakashi’s chest. Then after a moment, “I’m sorry the storm makes you sad.”
Kakashi gave his son a squeeze and kissed his downy silver hair. “It’s okay.” They sat in silence for awhile. The storm had moved off a bit which diminished its power over them. The lightning wasn’t as bright and the sound of the thunder took longer to reach them. The distant, echoing booms were now simply a pressure on their ears rather than on their hearts.
Roka’s little body began to relax bit by bit. Kakashi tightened his hold so the boy didn’t slide onto the floor. “Daddy?” The boy asked sleepily.
Kakashi answered with a soothing noise in his throat.
“Can I sleep here for awhile?” The last word was punctuated by a yawn. Then the pale face and hair nuzzled into black fabric.
Kakashi glanced outside at the dark night. The downpour of rain on the roof had been reduced to a medium shower. The lightning and its famous partner were already becoming distant memories.
“Just a little while, then I’m taking you back to bed.” There was no answer from Roka except for regular puffs of air hitting Kakashi’s neck.
Kakashi sat content in the dark room holding his child. The constant rain was his companion during the late night vigil. “I’ll tell you the rest when you’re older,” Kakashi promised, “a lot older.”
The ninja held his son tightly, the boy that looked like his father…and his grandfather.