Work Text:
Kazuha hears the rain tapping against the roof, though he knew it would be coming long before the first drops had hit the deck. His chair drags against the floor before he stands up, stretches, tucks in his haori, and opens the door. The view affords a sea of sputtering haze, backlit by the lamp inside his cabin. Stepping outside feels as if he’s passing through a veil.
Raindrops runnel along Kazuha’s arms as he treads towards the stern of the ship. The Alcor rolls in soft swells as countless ripples are pressed into the surface. The lanterns feel especially warm, given so much to illuminate, and Kazuha is grateful for them as he steps carefully across the wet wood.
With relaxed purpose, he moves to the very back of the ship. Most of the crew is inside, late as it is, though he waves a quick hello to Sea Drake before leaping up in a watery gust. There’s a spot that he likes, a part of the roof that’s tucked in between the others, the overhang providing shelter should he desire it. The rain plips and puddles on the wood as if someone spilled their bowl of beads, clicking delightfully across the panels.
Kazuha settles in and removes his dampened haori, folding it into a makeshift cushion to cradle his head as he leans back. The overhang covers his face, swathing it in soft shadow. The sea shifts to his side, foggy and dark, and he tilts his head to watch. He breathes in, steeping himself in that fresh, hazy smell until he’s brimming with it.
The rain falls indiscriminately, gently peppering his calves, lading his chest, percolating his clothes. The summer shower is salaciously warm, holding out its cloak in offering, so Kazuha lets it explore him. The water sticks to his skin, dipping into his elbows, blotting his thighs, pooling on his stomach. It blurs the senses, and all Kazuha can think about is the warm weight surrounding his body, the smell of soused air, and the leisurely rocking of the ship.
It’s an uncommon pleasure. On some days the cold bites, the wind stings, and he can’t open himself up as freely as this. But the drizzle beckons him in, trails its finger under his jaw, whispers down his neck, promising only unburdening. Kazuha surrenders himself as if to a lover, shivering as he untenses, while the mist leaves kisses against his cheeks.