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He had already checked every room in the base. At this point, it was obvious where the other man had run off to. As much as he had hoped to find him elsewhere, he had known from the very beginning that it was the only place he should have looked. It had been many years since the restaurant had been closed down, but as the silver haired man stepped towards it, he couldn’t help but think of several teenaged memories of the family all eating there after a big event, noting that it still looked the same.
The forecast had promised sunshine, but a freak cloud had hovered over the building. The closer he got towards the entrance, the heavier the showers. He knew better than to assume that this was a mere coincidence. The Rain was meant to calm others, but what happened when the Rain was the one who needed to be consoled?
The door wouldn’t be locked. He knew that as he slid it open, desperate to get out of the downpour. He didn’t need to look up to know where the other man was, but he still let his gaze carry over to him. At the counter sat the taller male. He stared towards the back kitchen entrance, almost as if he was expecting his sushi to come out any minute now. Judging by the fact that he was still dressed in his black suit, tie only a bit askew, he had been there since yesterday’s ceremony.
“Yamamoto,” the Storm had spoken, trying to get the other’s attention. After a few seconds had passed without a reaction, he recited his name again, this time louder. No response.
“Takeshi…” he softly pleaded for the Rain’s attention. Over the years, the two had created a closer bond than anyone had ever expected them to. While old habits die hard, they had occasionally been known to call each other by their given names in their most intimate moments.
Yamamoto looked towards the entrance. The look on his face indicated that he wasn’t aware of Gokudera’s presence the entire time.
“Dera...h-how long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough.” Gokudera walked up to the counter to sit next to his companion. As he got closer, he could see the glistening honey colored eyes of the Rain. “Please don’t try to convince me that you’re okay, Takeshi.” He rested his hand on the other man’s arm.
“I’m,” he gulped, “I’m really not. I can’t help but think that this is all my fault.”
Gokudera took a long breath. “It really isn’t.”
“I should have been there to save him!” Yamamoto had jumped up from his seat, his volume taking his friend aback. “It was my responsibility to keep him safe.” He paced over to the wall where he let his body collapse against its surface.
“He would have never wanted you to say that,” Gokudera uttered. “He wouldn’t want you to put the burden on yourself.” He sat next to the Rain. “And you know, Keshi, you know that he would have barked at you to leave. Your old man was stubborn, and dammit, you were his world.”
“They only came after him to get to me. They wanted information and he was my weak spot. Dera, how am I supposed to live with that?”
“You don’t. You just take that burden off of yourself.” Gokudera looked at Yamamoto, and for the first time in a long time, was scared of how he would react.
Yamamoto sighed. “I don’t know how to survive the death of another parent.”
“With time.”
“What do you kn-”
“When I was a child, my mother passed away. My mother was the kindest woman I’ve ever known. I didn’t think I would ever find a smile as warm as hers, not until I met this stupid baseball nerd who didn’t stop until I smiled back.”
“I didn’t know,” Yamamoto shifted to look at Gokudera. There were still pools in his eyes, but his expression was more tender.
“It’s alright,” he patted his friend’s shoulder. “She died in an accident. It was my birthday and her car ran off the side of the road.” He stopped to let the other man speak; everyone always had something to say during this part. Instead, Yamamoto continued to look intently at him, desperate for his next words. “For years, I blamed myself. She wouldn’t have died if she weren’t so thrilled to see me. That woman was so excited to give me some stupid gift but if she had waited...if she had waited, she would have still been alive.”
Yamamoto motioned to say something, but Gokudera shook his head to stop him.
“I don’t want you to have that burden, Takeshi.” He looked intently at the other man. He could feel himself quivering as he raised his hand against his cheek. “Please, Keshi, please let yourself cry.”
Yamamoto leaned into his hand and clasped it with his own. With a single breath, he let it all out. Gokudera wrapped his free arm around his neck and embraced him. Yamamoto’s arm stroked up and down his back, returning the hug. They sat like that for a while until it seemed as if the Rain couldn’t cry anymore. They broke apart, but kept their hands pressed against Yamamoto’s face.
“Don’t make this your burden. You don’t have to. I’ll be here to support you through it all.”
“Thank you,” Yamamoto whispered.
“Of course. Afterall, I have to take good care of the right hand’s right hand.” This got a chuckle out of the taller man, who then quickly sighed.
“Hayato?” He pressed, his voice hoarse.
“Yeah?” The silver haired man wiped the lingering tears from his cheeks, his touch enough to make the other turn slightly pink.
“Hayato,” he hesitated, but quickly felt comfort in the warm press against him. “Hayato, I lo-”
The Storm put his thumb against the Rain’s mouth before he could say any more. “Not now,” he pleaded. “Not when you’re like this. I need to hear it when you’re better.” He pressed their foreheads together. “I don’t want you to say anything you may not mean because you’re looking for comfort.”
“I understand.” Yamamoto had sounded disappointed against the other man’s digit. “Thank you...for everything.” Gokudera let out a soft sigh as he closed the gap between them, his thumb the only thing that separated their lips from touching as they both closed their eyes, too scared to take the next step. Eventually, Gokudera stood up.
“C’mon, get up” he said to the other man, whose eyes were still shut. Yamamoto’s eyes slowly opened to see Gokudera take a box off of his belt and open it up. “Let’s play catch or whatever the hell you baseball freaks do.” He tossed a glove and a ball into his lap. Yamamoto sat still with a smile plastered on his face. It was the first time Gokudera had seen him wear that expression since the war had began. He held out his hand to let his friend up.
“You would play catch for me?” Yamamoto chuckled.
“No.” Gokudera replied honestly. “I would play catch for the Tenth. He’s convinced that’s the only way to get you to feel better.” He looked at the other’s face and noticed that wasn’t the answer he had wanted to hear. “But for you,” he continued, “I would do absolutely anything to see you smile again.”
The Storm looked down and noticed that they were still holding hands. He pulled him out of TakeSushi in a hurry, noting as they stepped out that the downpour had stopped and the sky was a beautiful blue, almost as beautiful as the flames of a certain Rain.