Chapter Text
Ah.
He knows that sound.
He doesn't need to open his eyes, but he does anyway, listening to the rain as it patters onto the roof. She stirs next to him, and draws his gaze, which warms perceptibly without anyone to see. Still curled up beside him, her expression is almost unbearably peaceful. He has no wish to disturb her, disrupt that gentle calm, so he doesn't move at all. He listens.
Outside, Yukimura holds a hand out, eyeing the drops that land on it. He knows what it means, the rain, but they really need him today. "Sasuke, go find Saizo, will you?"
Sasuke doesn't even hesitate, "No way! I'd never be able to find him. Not on a rainy day."
Yukimura sighs, and figures he may as well start with the ninja's room, though he hardly expects Saizo to actually be there. The sliding door slamming open wakes her up, startled into sitting, and Saizo glares in annoyance, drawling in his casual way as Yukimura stares in shock, "Go away, little lord."
Yukimura clearly isn't expecting her to be there either, and in confusion, stumbles blindly through an unintelligible apology. His attempt only makes her twin blush deepen, and stutters something of a scattered explanation in return. Saizo would find it funny if he didn't want to go back to sleep, so tiredly he snatches her abandoned pillow and lobs it at the intruder. Unerringly, it smacks Yukimura in the face. Sasuke, at least, gets the message, dragging Yukimura by the hand as he mutters, "Let's forget about Sensei today, okay Lord Yukimura?"
Silent, again, except for the rain. Until, looking put out, she moves to get to her feet and retrieve her erstwhile headrest. He stops her, touch gentle but unyielding. "Saizo," she insists, an expression of dismay and confusion on her features, "That was my pillow."
"You don't need it." He tugs her back down, features indifferent, rearranging them both until she is nestled in his arms, flushed cheek against his chest. Much better, he thinks. Her gentle breathing is closer now, close enough to hear over the rain, though its sound haunts him less these days. She's stammering something again, and he nuzzles her soft hair and ignores the protests with a "Ssh. Be a good girl, go back to sleep."
After a second, he feels her hands, hesitant at first but sure after only a moment, pull him closer, and then go still as she burrows against him and falls quiet. He captures one of them in his own, bringing it to his lips. There's a pulse in the wrist that quickens when he does, and he folds his fingers with hers and closes his eyes, feeling her watch him as he resists the urge to smile at her nervousness, but her breathing slows and he knows when her eyes close because the pulse quiets.
"Saizo," she murmurs sweetly, a sleepy, whispering sigh.
Ah, he thinks, not caring at the gentle ache it causes when it falls on his ears and heart, he knows that sound.