Work Header

Heavy rain

Work Text:

When Fushi saw him the first time, it was an explosion. Well, not a literal explosion, but the immortal was shaken. That day, Fushi was waiting for the bus to come, safe under the bus shelter as a downpour was striking repeatedly on the solid structure. Huffs and puffs made him turn his head, as a boy almost collided with him. He could not be older than he was (physically wise) and his jacket was soaked wet. With his hands on his knees and his harsh breathing, Fushi felt worry creep up in his chest, and he began to move towards him. 

_ Are yo-

He was interrupted by a loud sneeze. The boy shivered and hugged himself, trembling. Fushi could not leave him like that. In a flourish unseen by the boy, Fushi created a towel big enough to cover him completely. It was only when the towel was around his body that the boy looked at his savior. And in a sense, that sealed his fate. 

The boy had clear blue eyes, the exact same color as the sky. It was a strange spell, one out of this world and it dragged him into new heights. Fushi felt like his heart had exploded right in his chest. He mouthed 'what' when he saw the other's lips move. 

_ Thanks, dude, he said, seemingly unbothered to repeat himself. I really, really needed this. Still, where did you get it? I mean, you don't have a bag on yourself. 

The boy stayed silent before he quickly added. 

_ Sh*t that's your towel?! I'm sorry-

_ No, that's okay, Fushi smiled, cheeks burning hot. You obviously needed it more than me. 

_ Still... Thanks, the boy smiled in return.

Fushi didn't think his heart could get quicker than that. It was not possible. Fushi shivered, but it wasn't from the cold. It was unfamiliar, but the good kind. He was not sure what it was, he could not describe it, it was almost scary. Fushi didn't know what to make of it. And his heart was so quick... What was happening? 

_ What's your name? The boy asked. 

_ Fushi.

_ Fushi, Fushi... I know I must have read it somewhere, but I can't remember... Oh well. I'm Sora, the blue-eyed boy extended his hand, nice to meet you. 

A bit unsure, Fushi still shook his hand. When Sora nodded at him, he felt like he was flying, yet his body was still there. 

Eyes blue like the sky. 

Pale skin like the moon. 

Dark hair like the night. 

And a grin like the sun. 

In a single meeting, Sora had become Fushi's world. And that wouldn't be their last meeting. Sora was an airhead. And he forgot to give the towel back. They would find ways to constantly meet one another. A constant cycle, day and night.