They’d been at it for only a few minutes — Roy and his opponent — but already the air was thick with heat and smoke. Fire crackled, sparks danced, and there wasn’t much the rest of you could do except keep your distance and watch. Getting too close meant getting scorched.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw it.

A single drop of rain hit the dirt beside Roy’s boot.

Rain… He’s useless in the rain, you thought, dread and disbelief washing over you at the same time.

Roy was just about to snap his fingers when you bolted forward and tackled him to the ground. The impact knocked the air out of both of you, and for a second he just stared up at you — stunned, furious, and more than a little confused.

Before he could bark out your name or demand an explanation, the sky split open and rain poured down in sheets. Within seconds, the battlefield was drenched — except for Roy.

Because you were sitting there, holding your soaked coat above his head, shielding him from the downpour like some ridiculous human umbrella.

His jaw clenched, his shoulders sagged, and he muttered a long string of curses under his breath. The look on his face said it all: humiliation.

You could almost feel the embarrassment radiating off him, but you didn’t move. Better for him to sulk under your protection than be rendered completely useless in the fight.

Despite his protests, Roy didn’t move from your arms. He knows that he’s useless too- though he’s never going to admit it.