#picture this as what came RIGHT BEFORE she went to go bother Laito during a storm

[trophyeve]

Drabble; Thunder

The rain poured down heavily and tiny palms tried to shut the noise from her ears.  A small, blonde head of hair trembled beneath the blanket the child wore as a shield against the world.  No matter how loud it sounded, nothing bad was going to happen.  There was a roof over her head.  Father was in the other room.  It was going to be just fine, just like always.

It didn’t stop her from shivering amidst the warm blankets on her bed.  He was probably trying to relax after a hard day.  He got called by the Church to do all sorts of errands often and had only recently gotten back from one of them.  He was clumsy and had returned with another injury again.  His arm was broken - he’d returned wearing a sling.  He’d told the story later, once he’d settled in and they were at dinner.  Another story about how circumstances had just so happened, in the silliest of ways, to turn helping someone into a clumsy accident.  She’d giggled and asked him to be careful.  He’d patted her head and stared at her with a look she’d never been able to understand.

She knew she shouldn’t bother him.  He was tired, he was injured...  But the storm was scary and made her feel so small.  Careful, once the storm had briefly quieted, she wrapped herself and her pillow up, picking it all up and plopped her tiny feet onto the wooden floor with a thud.  The blanket and pillow slipped, messing her previously-decent grip on it.  Most of it dragged behind as she clung determinedly, waddling her way to Father’s door.

Knock-a-knock, knock, she rapped against his door gently.  Just in case he was sleeping, so he wouldn’t wake up.

“...Come in, Yui.”  His grave voice didn’t sound like he’d been sleeping at all.  She opened the door and pulled her blanket inside, pillow still held close to her chest.  “...Is it the storm again?  How do you manage when I’m not here?”   She’d sleep in his bed, or under it.  He didn’t need to know that, though, so she kept it super secret and tried her hardest to fix his bed up afterwards.

“I’m sorry, Father, but...can I stay here tonight?”  She stared up at him, then squeaked and ran to him without permission as the thunder picked up again.  Her pillow abandoned, she held his waist tightly from his seat at his desk.  His hand, when he stroked her hair, was warm.

“Very well, Yui.  I can’t pick you up this time, so you can make it to my bed without me, I trust?”   “Yes!”

Following his request, she dragged her blanket and herself to the bed, pushed herself up and scooted along until she could lay down beside his pillow.  Father smiled, sighed, and stood up.  Plucking her pillow from the floor, he ceased its brief abandonment to tuck it behind her head.  He rearranged her blankets so she’d be comfortable.  He brought his book over, whatever it was, and sat beside her to read it.

Occasionally, he’d stroke her hair.

“I love you, Father.” “You’re a good girl, Yui.”

And like that, she could sleep to the sound of his breathing and old pages turning in worn out books.  Even if the thunder kept going, Father was there.

Father loved her.  Father was a clumsy, well-intentioned priest who never stopped trying his hardest.  If someone needed help, they could rely on him.  If Father knew they were in pain, he would go help them.  Sometimes it would take a little while, sometimes God made circumstances hard, but patience, patience, and he would help.

...So why?

A much older Yui sat on her bed in the Sakamaki house, holding her shoulders as the thunder blared.  Better to stay here.  No one to safely go to.  It’d been awhile since a storm had been bad enough to get her like this.  She’d always been able to distract herself somehow.

Now, it hit her.  It really hit her.  Father was never, ever coming, was he?  Even when--even when she’d called trying to reach one of his friends, they’d said to never contact the Church again.  And somehow, she’d been able to tell herself that it was a big mess.  That somehow Father was going to come take her home.  He was just hindered, somehow.  Someone else needed help more than Yui Komori did, so he was tied up.

...Was it because she was selfish?  She wasn’t just waiting for him.  She’d been trying to find ways to leave.  

He hadn’t given her anything.  Any sign.  Not even some secret message, something only she could recognize and know, no matter how long it took, that Father was going to try and help.  Father hadn’t forgotten, and Father was coming.  

He wasn’t.

He wasn’t coming.

She slowly turned her head to face the window, where rain blasted against the windows and light blared through at unpredictable intervals.

Father wasn’t coming at all.