[ The roaring of thunder and the power of rain is a reminder, certainly, of Hana's brush with death but more than that--
It reminds her, too, of the second time she had ever met up with one Takashi Shirogane-- even if "met up" is a stretch, considering he showed up at her window in the middle of the night after running through the rain. That was the first time he'd ever held her, sheltering her from the storm outside of her window when the lights went out and -- he'd told her, then, why he loved being in storms so much. It washed away the dark parts of him, at least for a little while, and she remembers him saying that feeling the rain against his skin reminded him of where he was now.
She understands, now. With her body strewn across debris, clinging desperately to life as rain poured over like mourning tears over a nearly-destroyed Busan, Hana had come to understand it. Because as the explosions and gunfire ceased and all of the debris settled-- it was the feeling of rain against her skin that made Hana realize that she was still alive.
And she's here. With Shiro as her shelter once more. She wraps her arms around him in turn, her small hands grabbing fistfuls of his shirt at his back. His coat keeps her torso from getting too wet but the rain leaves water streaming down her face, in her hair, and strands of it starting to cling to her forehead and cheeks as she looks up at him. ]
Shiro...
[ The howling wind and the rain and thunder are loud, but she calls out his name, anyway, just like she'd called out his name in the rain in Busan. ]
I think I get it now! Why you love storms so much.
no subject
It reminds her, too, of the second time she had ever met up with one Takashi Shirogane-- even if "met up" is a stretch, considering he showed up at her window in the middle of the night after running through the rain. That was the first time he'd ever held her, sheltering her from the storm outside of her window when the lights went out and -- he'd told her, then, why he loved being in storms so much. It washed away the dark parts of him, at least for a little while, and she remembers him saying that feeling the rain against his skin reminded him of where he was now.
She understands, now. With her body strewn across debris, clinging desperately to life as rain poured over like mourning tears over a nearly-destroyed Busan, Hana had come to understand it. Because as the explosions and gunfire ceased and all of the debris settled-- it was the feeling of rain against her skin that made Hana realize that she was still alive.
And she's here. With Shiro as her shelter once more. She wraps her arms around him in turn, her small hands grabbing fistfuls of his shirt at his back. His coat keeps her torso from getting too wet but the rain leaves water streaming down her face, in her hair, and strands of it starting to cling to her forehead and cheeks as she looks up at him. ]
Shiro...
[ The howling wind and the rain and thunder are loud, but she calls out his name, anyway, just like she'd called out his name in the rain in Busan. ]
I think I get it now! Why you love storms so much.