whatever shade had occupied the sky before the rain had begun to fall, was but a forgotten hue long lost to the darkness of the overhead rain clouds. splatters of thick droplets hammered against rooftops, soaking the stone from grey to black. a few lanterns hung about one of the bridges connecting little tokyo to the neighbouring gardens fought hard against the wind; the little candles within struggling to stay alight with every gust of october’s chilly breeze.
it was not the weather for strolls, but the wind blasted the scent of nearby creatures aside, and that was why amongst all of that rain, all of that wind, a figure emerged upon the other side of the wooden bridge. an umbrella clasped within his gloved hand and an expression one could only describe as irritated, muzan kibutsuji wandered lonesome through the nighttime.
the place was generally more populated however the onslaught of stormy weather chased most souls into their homes, sending them scurrying away with their jackets held over their hair. but muzan was fine. the umbrella, despite the wind, was sturdy enough for him to walk about clutching it with a singular hand, the other tucked into the pocket of his jacket as he paced about. sightseeing.
far too windy to adorn a hat however, his hair was slick and styled, pushed back leaving but the thin curls to bounce about sickly pale cheeks. his eyes, the most vibrant shade upon his person, flit about to and fro, before he moved to cross the bridge. he paused. someone else moved into the light of the lanterns, the candles’ glow illuminating their face for a moment. hers might have been a face he had seen before, but would it truly matter? she was merely another visitor within his life. a brief, passing second. he had come to disregard some faces as easily as if they were wandering thoughts upon the wind.
the light did not aid him in his observation thus he moved, tailing her as she walked beneath one of the shelters overlooking a pond. there, the rain thudded hard against the wooden roof, but the water never touched a hair upon her head.
he did not say a word at first, merely staring at her with deep red eyes instead. the lamps occasionally revealed more of her, yet he remained unblinking, yet to break his focus upon her. but then, after a few moments, he eventually spoke. the sound as cold as nails dragging the length of a blackboard, the demon finally addressed her. “ you should not be wandering around here so late at night. especially during a storm. “ ——— @heirpins ✘
an overly eventful life means that kanao doesn’t have opportunities like this: to sit still with nowhere to be, to enjoy the scent of rain on the breeze, to have no pressure to save lives from slaughtering demons. it is a peaceful existence --- the patter of rain here do not deafen screams for once.
but kanao is used to the discord and fleeting tranquility. she strains to hear what she cannot; restlessness grows inside her stature. she sits by the light of the lanterns, awaiting some sort of cry or plea for help from the distance. a demon, someone will yell --- or her crow calling for her next mission. yet the alarm never comes.
when she stares out into the rain, drops blurring her already hazy vision, she doesn’t notice the figure at first. it takes her a few moments to register the presence of someone else, and even as she takes shelter near the pond, she does not say anything. she doesn’t need to, she thinks; he is but a traveler who will move on after a short respite.
she does not expect him to speak.
she shouldn’t talk to strangers, much less ones who traverse the night amidst a storm; it’s a common lesson that her sisters have ingrained in her over and over again. but the man only speaks of concerns. so she ignores the goosebumps that crawl along her arms --- she assumes it must be the petrichor that sends tingles --- and flips a coin. heads.
❝ the rain is heavy. i’m waiting it out. ❞
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