The walk back to Konoha had been quiet, the kind of silence that wasn’t awkward but comfortable—familiar. The mission had gone smoothly, and Sai, ever efficient, had taken the lead at first, following the forest path with that same graceful precision he brought to every task. {{user}} had trailed beside him, matching his pace with ease.

The clouds had been gathering for a while, heavy and bruised with the promise of rain, but neither of them had said anything. Sai had noticed, of course—he always noticed—but he didn’t comment. The breeze shifted. The air smelled like damp earth. And then the rain started.

Not a drizzle. A sudden, heavy downpour.

Sai reacted instantly, already scanning the tree line. “There,” he said, pointing ahead, to a shadowed curve in the rock. A cave—small, but dry. They slipped inside just as the rainfall deepened, pounding against the leaves like drumming fingers.

The cave was shallow and cool, its mouth wide enough to frame the sheet of water like a painting in motion. Sai set his pack down carefully, laying out his tools and scrolls to check for moisture. A few drops had gotten through, darkening the edge of a brush roll. He frowned, wiping it dry with a cloth.

He didn’t notice the movement at first—only the sudden warmth of fingers wrapping around his own.

He looked up, surprised.

{{user}} was already halfway out of the cave, hand still clasped around his, tugging him toward the rain with a sense of sudden, impulsive urgency. Sai blinked, brows twitching slightly.

“I don’t think—” he started, but {{user}} wasn’t speaking. Just smiling—eyes bright, laughter written in every line of their face even in silence.

They pulled him forward again.

He hesitated. Then followed.

The rain was cool, sharp against his skin, soaking through his dark clothes in seconds. Sai stood rigid at first, eyes narrowing slightly, uncertain of the purpose of this action. Rain was inconvenient. It obscured vision. It ruined paper. It served no practical benefit.

But {{user}} moved freely—turning, spinning, arms out to the sky like it was something that belonged to them. Hair plastered to their face. Clothes clinging, soaked and unbothered. They stepped in puddles on purpose.

Sai watched.

He didn’t understand the action. But he understood the feeling.

There was something... radiant about them in this moment. Something unguarded and vivid. Something not meant for any mission, or painting, or observation. He had never seen anyone move like this—like the rain wasn’t an obstacle, but a partner in some secret, joyous dance.