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A loud crack, a flash of light, and the rumbling of the sky rattles the window pane that holds intricate stained glass in front of him. Shikanoin Heizou is not impressed.
I know that we’re the nation of Hydro, but this is ridiculous. Does it always rain with the entirety of Watatsumi’s fresh water supply here?
But at least the station that they’ve taken shelter in is three stories high and built with stone, blocking out the harsher sounds of the thunder. Though the rain pelts at the windows, the noise is reduced to hollow pattering instead of the roar that he suspects is happening outside.
Lumine and Paimon must have been caught up in the deluge while trying to get back from the Palais Mermonia.
“I forgot to give him a letter from the Fortress of Meropide,” he recounts her words, “It shouldn’t take me long. I’ll meet you back at the hotel.”
Kazuha and him would have already been on their way; they’re no strangers to strong storms, but it’s been a long day, and the trek to their hotel is an uphill battle. Was the aquabus hub built first, and the city expanded to higher levels later? Or is there red tape involved for making pedestrian walkways for each level? Regardless of the reason, without Lumine here to use her fascinating ability of using those ancient waypoints, walking across the city in this storm is less than desirable for the both of them.
What Heizou doesn’t quite get, though, is how his companion can relax so soundly in this weather.
There he is, sitting on the bench, eyes closed and serene smile on his lips. The muted light that filters through the windows casts a glow onto his hair, catching stray strands and turning them into platinum threads. His breaths are steady, almost unnoticeable.
His heart quickens, and at the same time he feels hushed in awe. Kazuha is no god, but maybe this is what it feels like to give reverence to the divine.
And Heizou hasn’t forgotten his words from earlier today. Oh, there is no way he could forget. Not the way the bandages on his hand brushed against his skin and the way he smelt of autumn in Chinju forest. Not with a gaze so accepting that it might as well have ripped through Heizou’s defense like it was tissue paper.
Shikanoin Heizou. Like a whirlwind that cradles wayward leaves, your very presence soothes the restlessness of my soul.
Not those words. He’s gone over them a billion times in his head, placed emphasis on each word, combed through the metaphors and the alliteration and the sound of his name on Kazuha’s lips. That moment is a part of him now, tucked neatly away in his mind and held as a treasure.
It doesn’t matter if he meant it or not, Heizou decides. For him, it’s already more than he deserves.
As if Kazuha senses his thoughts, Heizou is caught staring back at maple red eyes and a patient smile.
“What’s on your mind, Detective Shikanoin?” he teases.
Heizou swallows and looks away.
“Nothing,” but he knows that Kazuha is just as sharp as he is kind, and he’s going to need something more substantial than nothing, “Just...amazed at your skill to be so calm during storms like these.”
Kazuha goes quiet as he turns his body towards the window behind him, draping his arms over the top of the bench’s backrest.
It’s unfair how handsome he looks, even when he’s not trying.
“Life out at sea has acclimated me to worse, though there are still times when I shudder at the lightning’s glow. But besides that, these are unusual circumstances I suppose.”
Heizou’s eyebrow quirks up. “How so?”
Kazuha simply regards him, red eyes flashing in the dimness of the room.
“I’ve already told you,” he replies, and Heizou’s heart stops.
“You have?”
He has. Whirlwinds and leaves. The comfort of souls.
Heizou’s mouth runs dry.
“You…” he starts, but he doesn’t have the capacity to string anything coherent other than “are you sure?” which is stupid because Kazuha’s not the type to lie about matters like this. But the concept is incomprehensible to him.
Why me?
Kaedehara Kazuha, the formerly convicted criminal that took Inazuma by storm, a spark brighter and warmer than Heizou has ever seen, is interested in him. Shikanoin Heizou. The infamous Cyclone whose reputation as genius and pain in the ass are considered one and the same. Life-ruiner, family-breaker, unbearable doushin Heizou.
Kazuha rises from his seat slowly, deliberately, as if moving faster would break whatever kind of tension has settled in their space.
Step
Step
Step
The noise of his sandals echo in the empty room, still soft despite the friction of wood against tile, until the ronin stands beside him. Heizou can’t look away. Kazuha’s normal smile has thinned and his gaze has sharpened, and he retains their locked gazes for all but a second, when Heizou feels his fingers slide down his wrist to the back of his palm. They slot in between the spaces of his own, and in this half-grip Kazuha guides their hands to his lips.
He kisses the pads of his fingertips. His breath is warm, shaky – or maybe that’s Heizou, because his fingers are trembling. They barely press against his skin. Kazuha pulls away.
Heizou is mesmerized. Maybe he’s compared Kazuha to a god, but gods could never be so gentle. Only Kazuha could look at him like this, somehow both hesitant but so determined to break through his defenses. Neither of them say a word.
Their short pause emboldens him to kiss them again, and this time his touch is firm. His lips are as velvet soft as Heizou’s wildest dreams had made them out to be, and the touch elicits a quiet gasp from him that sounds much too loud for his ears, even over the distant thunder.
Here they linger until Kazuha lowers their hands to press over his heart. It’s racing underneath his palm in a rhythm as fast his own.
“I am yours, if you want me.”
Heizou thought he had made his walls impenetrable. He thought that time and time again, all he had to do was patch up the cracks and cover the shambles of who he really is when no one was looking. Everything was fine as long as he played the role of detective Shikanoin, unbreakable Cyclone.
He forgot that Kazuha had no need to break the walls. All he had to do was jump.
“Do you want me? I’m a mess, you know,” he tries to laugh, but it comes out every bit of broken as he feels. Saving face here doesn’t matter anyway. It’s Kazuha, and regardless if he’s rejected, Heizou knows that once these feelings cement, he will never be able to stop.
That tense look on Kazuha’s face eases, but his words do not. “I would have no other.”
Then I…
Heizou reaches to trace the line of his jaw, still shaky and still hesitant, but Kazuha remains steady with a patient smile on his lips, his eyes fluttering close.
“You really mean it?” he whispers. And this time, the ronin only hums in response, sending vibrations to dance from his fingertips right to his heart.
Another crack of thunder resounds closer to the building, louder, more violent, but it only half registers in his mind when he presses their lips together. Warmth blooms in his chest when Kazuha sighs into him, shifting just barely to untangle their clasped hands to rest at his waist instead.
It’s a gentle kiss. A chaste and simple acknowledgment of their feelings, and man alive does it mean the world to him. Kazuha means the world to him. His soft breaths and his softer touches, Heizou would commit treason for this man, if aiding in his escape from Inazuma didn’t count already.
When he pulls away, it’s Kazuha who chases for another one. This time there’s no room for second thoughts; the hand on Heizou’s waist snakes to his back, embracing him as their mouths connect again, tinged with a heat that’s been building between them for months. Heizou’s fingers card through silver hair while his mind revels in the taste of mint leaves that Kazuha had been whistling with just hours before. It’s quickly becoming his favorite flavor.
It takes longer for them to part, but when they do, Kazuha’s chuckles warm Heizou’s weathered soul.
“You said you could breathe easier with me. No wonder – all this time you’ve been stealing my breath away.”
Heizou laughs and presses his forehead against his, with a real smile on his lips while he basks in Kazuha’s loving gaze.
“Fair’s fair. You stole my heart first.”