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Thunder woke Tsukasa up.
The first thing he became aware of was the cream color of the ceiling, darkened by the absence of light in the room. The second was the dryness of his mouth, a familiar sensation after waking up in the middle of the night.
The third was a warmth against his side.
His sleep-laced mind groaned to return to slumber, passing the heat off as his blankets or any other usual thing it could be and not any cause for concern. He succeeded for a few seconds, or maybe a few minutes, until another large bout of thunder rumbled, shaking even the bed in its intensity. After it passed, he once again felt himself drifting off, however he soon realized that the warmth next to him was still shaking.
Blearily, he cracked open his eyes and turned his head to be met with tangled orange hair. He stared at it, his mind taking a moment to properly process and acknowledge that, yes, that was indeed Hinata’s hair. His gears spun more, trying to recall any forgotten reason why his roommate would be in his bed, but came up blank.
Just as his mouth opened to voice a question, Tsukasa noticed that Hinata was shaking. No, trembling was a better word. Hinata curled up beside him, and while he was facing Tsukasa, his head was tucked so far into himself that Tsukasa couldn’t even see his face. Tsukasa frowned, his body moving without another thought as he placed a hand on Hinata’s arm.
“Hinata-kun, are you alright?” The dryness of his throat made his words raspy, and he watched as Hinata’s figure curled tighter. So, he was awake then. Tsukasa waited a few breaths, unsure if he would get a response and more unsure what to do if he didn’t get one. Surely, if Hinata had come to him, that meant he wanted something, right? Perhaps he felt sick and was used to going to Yuuta about it? Had Tsukasa earned enough of his trust that Hinata now turned to him as he was closer?
He pondered it, then decided it was best to act accordingly to that understanding, as incomplete as it may be. If Hinata showed an ounce of discomfort, then Tsukasa would back away and reevaluate, simple as that.
Tsukasa scooted himself closer and put an arm around Hinata, pulling him into some sort of hug he hoped came across as comforting even as Hinata’s continued trembling made his chest squeeze.
“It’s okay, Hinata-kun,” he offered. He tried to think of the last time he had been seriously comforted, but kept coming up with blanks despite knowing he had been in such situations before. His skin prickled with his uselessness. Why couldn’t he be good at these sorts of things and help when it really mattered?
Hinata was silent, but he closed what remaining space was between them and buried his head in Tsukasa’s chest. Tsukasa ignored the skipped beat of his heart, yet still indulged in rubbing circles into Hinata’s back. At least this seemed to be helping.
“Are you feeling sick? If that’s so, then please stay here as long as you’d like. When you feel a bit better, I can take you to the medical office. It’s no trouble at all, I’d do anything to help you.”
Hinata shifted, his head tilting up to peer at Tsukasa. His eyes were striking, not lacking in their usual intensity, but instead of joyous vibrancy, they were wide and nervous.
“I’m not sick,” Hinata said, his voice coming out strained. Tsukasa frowned, wanting to pull Hinata infinitely closer and hide him in his heart from whatever was causing him so much worry.
Another crack of thunder roared, the room shaking once again. In that moment, Hinata’s eyes squeezed shut and he let out a gasp, digging his forehead against Tsukasa’s chest as his body quaked like it had been struck by the lightning.
“Oh,” Tsukasa said. He never would have thought Hinata would be afraid of thunderstorms. He never would have thought Hinata was afraid of anything. Hinata was so… Hinata. Fearless, but not in the way that he was making a point to be brave, but in that fear never crossed his mind.
Tsukasa adjusted himself the best that he could now that Hinata was closer, and managed to bring both his arms around him. It was the absolute least he could do, to try and be a shield against the elements. Tsukasa never thought much about the weather, but in that moment he wished all raindrops would cease falling forever if it meant Hinata trembled less in his arms.
“It’s okay,” Tsukasa said, speaking against the top of Hinata’s head. “Hinata-kun, we’re safe here. This is a sturdy, well-built building. Tenshouin onii-sama was one of the biggest investors, so you can feel rest-assured that no corners were cut in construction.” He ran his hand over Hinata’s hair, smoothing down the stray pieces. “Is there anything specific I can do? How can I help?”
“I don’t know,” Hinata said, shaking his head. “I always check the forecast and it didn’t say anything was coming… Can you reach your phone? Can you just see when it ends?”
Tsukasa eyed his phone on his nightstand. “I can get it, but I will need to reach over you, if that’s alright.”
“It’s fine.” Hinata’s hands had found Tsukasa’s shirts, clenching it in a grip that made Tsukasa feel like it was very not fine to move. “Just grab it. And please don’t lie about what it says even if it’s super long.”
Tsukasa reached over, his body momentarily draping across Hinata so that he could just barely grip the corner of his phone to pull it into his hand. Hinata remained pressed against him, the grip he had on Tsukasa’s cotton shirt tugged him close as he moved, like Hinata was an anchor and Tsukasa a ship not allowed to stray too far.
“Let’s see…” Tsukasa laid back down. “It’s about 2:30 right now, and opening the weather app... It looks like it’ll continue to storm until 5.”
Tsukasa felt Hinata move as if to say something, but thunder resounded and stole his voice away, and whatever brief state of lesser panic he had reached evaporated. In an instant, Hinata had dug his head down further. “I’m- I’m sorry. I’m really sorry that you have to—” His voice choked out on a strangled noise like a whimper, and Tsukasa pulled Hinata infinitely closer yet never close enough.
“Don’t apologize for a single thing. What do you need? Please tell me, Hinata-kun.” Tsukasa barely kept himself from begging, not wanting to add to Hinata’s distress but finding himself growing desperate.
Hinata had lost his voice, offering no reply except for growingly frantic breathing. Tsukasa’s heart bled into his chest with each breath, and while he did not wish to move Hinata from himself, he knew the brief anxiety would be worth the relief.
As quick as he could, he managed to tug the comforter down with one hand and get it out from underneath Hinata’s trembling body and bring it over top of him. For good measure, Tsukasa covered both their heads under it and brought Hinata against his chest again.
“There we go, that’s a little better. At least now you won’t be cold. It’ll end soon, okay? And I’ll stay awake the entire time so you won’t be alone for a single second. I promise.”
“...Okay.” Hinata slowly released Tsukasa’s shirt and snaked his arms around him instead, squeezing the cotton fabric. “Tsukasa-kun…” He trailed off, releasing a shaky breath. “I really hate storms.”
Tsukasa really wished he could control the weather. Or maybe he should invest in a storm shelter, or tell Eichi to invest in one. Maybe they should all live underground from now on. Eating roots would be more bearable than Hinata’s feeble voice ripping Tsukasa into a thousand grieving pieces.
“It will be okay.” He commanded every ounce of assuredness in him to portray in his voice. “It’s close right now, but it’ll move further away soon. The forecast said it completely ends at 5, but we could stop hearing it sooner than that.”
“The rain will still be loud.”
“Ah. Perhaps I could retrieve your headphones? You could drown it out with music.”
“No. I need to hear it.”
Tsukasa furrowed his brow, unsure of the logic, but it wasn’t his fear so he had no say in how best to proceed.
“Is it best if I stop speaking then?” He asked hesitantly. At least while talking he was doing something. If he lost his voice, then all the comfort he could give at that point would be in tracing patterns against Hinata’s back with his hands.
“Please don’t,” Hinata begged, his nails digging into his back. “Tsukasa-kun.” The name came out as a plea, like Tsukasa’s name alone could fight back all the anguish in the storm.
“I won’t,” Tsukasa said. “I’ll keep talking, and I will be here with you.” He moved, his lips pressing against the top of Hinata’s head, speaking every word into his skin. “It will pass, and we will stay right here and let it. Each minute, it is moving further away, and until it is gone, you will be with me. And we will be safe here.”
“The building is… the building is strong. But it is tall. It’s tall, so who knows when it’ll topple over.”
“Modern day skyscrapers are remarkably stable,” Tsukasa explained. “They’re made of concrete and steel. The force of a thunderstorm, while perhaps intimidating—” He ran his hand through Hinata’s hair, carding his fingers through the strands and easing out the knots. “—is of no significant match against such a structure. And again, I can personally assure you that the investors behind ES would have left no stone unturned in their construction.”
Hinata slowly nodded, finding some remote comfort in the words. “Right. That’s right. I know you’re right, I know that. Tsukasa-kun just says things in a way that really makes it feel like more than the truth.”
“Ah, do I? I am glad then.”
“It’s helpful now, and I trust that you would never lie to me, but you should take advantage of your own good nature,” Hinata said, some amount of humor returning to his voice. “Like, you could definitely tell a convincing lie and get everyone to believe it and—”
The storm must have truly been right on top of them, because a particularly sharp peal of thunder shook the room. Whatever comfort Hinata had found went back to zero, and he — god forsakenly, Tsukasa thought — whimpered at the roaring lightning.
“The building is safe,” Tsukasa repeated, squeezing Hinata closer to himself. “The room is safe, this bed is safe. Hinata-kun, you’re safe. Nothing is going to happen, it just needs to pass.”
It went like that in a cycle for the next few hours. Thunder would roar, increasingly further away yet moving far too slow for Tsukasa’s liking. Between each rumble, Tsukasa would work at piecing Hinata together like he was shattered glass, and would have to dutifully start over again each time — it made him wonder if Sisyphus would have found more solace if he were pushing the rock out of love. He spoke comforts until his throat grew scratchy, itching for a glass of water, but he ignored it. What did dehydration matter, compared to Hinata shaking in his arms?
He spoke and soothed and rubbed Hinata’s back, and as the time grew closer to dawn, Hinata trembled less and less. His breathing evened out as the space between each clap of thunder grew, and Tsukasa hoped he managed to doze off in the lulls so he could catch just a little bit of rest.
Tsukasa kept his own eyes open, not giving himself an inch to accidentally fall asleep. He promised he would be here, and it would devastate him if Hinata needed him and he wasn’t awake for it. As tired as he felt, he put it to the back of his mind, letting the anxiety thrumming under his skin keep him going. He had no fears, no personal stake, but, well, that wasn’t true, was it? Hinata was personal to him, so his fears were Tsukasa’s fears.
Some time later, as Tsukasa was tracing the names of various historical shoguns into Hinata’s back, Hinata shifted in his arms, daring to pull himself away from Tsukasa for the first time that night.
“Tsukasa-kun.” He sounded exhausted. “Is it over?”
Tsukasa nodded. “It’s over.”