Title: Upside of Rain

Wordcount: 627

Pairing: Riku/Yuffie

Rating: K

Notes: Sweet, innocent fun in the rain :)

Upside of Rain

"What are you doing?"

Her boots splash in the puddles, sending up volleys and sprays of dark water. It's past nightfall, it's pouring rain, and it's chilly out, and what does Yuffie do?

She goes outside to run around.

She claps her hands together, umbrella resting on her shoulder, the unbuttoned rain-jacket swinging around merrily. It's too long for her, Riku notes, as it falls to her knees and the sleeves drape past her hands. But she doesn't seem to mind - she's more concerned with the growing puddles that pool in the dips in the worn cobblestone, the thick drizzles that pour off the canopies, the way the rain makes a soft "ping!" noise as it hits the roofs.

"C'mon, Yuf, let's go in, we'll get sick."

"Nuh-uh!"

Her overly cheerful voice bothers him - after all, he is trapped under a small canopy, as she has taken the umbrella and is currently swinging it around like some sort of fan, throwing her head back and laughing at the dark clouds. It's impossible, really, to control her. Then again, Riku doesn't want to control her. He likes how free she is, how careless she is, and he wishes sometimes he was as free as she was - he's chained by doubt and worry, she merely doesn't care. Always looks on the bright side of everything.

She even looks on the bright side of rainstorms and thunderclap.

She is completely wet. Her short hair - tomboyish, shorter than his own - is plastered to her face, a few stray piece tumbling in her eyes. She isn't wearing her headband, either, and thus, her bangs aren't kept in line. But, really, he doesn't mind. It's her problem if she gets wet.

"You're no fun," she says as she spins in circles, looking straight up. She ends the circles with a bounce, landing in the biggest puddle and giggling like a child. How immature, he thinks.

"I'm cold and wet, Yuffie, I don't think this is fun."

She skips over, her fingers (partially covered in slick wet rain-jacket) gripping his wrist. He isn't wearing a coat - when she asked to go on a walk, he didn't foresee her using it as an opportunity to dance in the damn rain. He had expected to keep that large black umbrella over his head at all times, not be trapped under a tiny (and leaking!) awning over the door to a closed hat shop.

"That's because you suck," she teases, sticking out her tongue. When he refuses to be dragged out into the rain, she bops him on the head gently, then pokes him in the nose, and then, to complete the deal, winks with a dazzling smile.

How charming, he thinks, and while he's too busy wondering why she'd give him a look like that, she does manage to drag him into the rainfall.

"Yuffie!" he exclaims, and she slips her very wet arms around his waist, hugging him close and holding him still. The top of her head reaches his nose, and suddenly, he has a very wet head against his cheek, her chin on his shoulder.

"Isn't it nice?"

He just sees the umbrella, cast aside and dropped in puddle, and smells the scent of her wet skin and listens to her babble about how rain is good because it makes the trees and flowers grow, so it must have a good effect on people, too, because it helps living things grow. He tastes the flavourless taste of rain on his lips, and can feel her bare knee against the dampening fabric of his pants.

He's wet, uncomfortable, feeling totally ridiculous. But still? He feels amused. Faintly humoured by how ridiculous she manages to make everything, how even rain seems like a cherished gift.

"Now it is," he mumbles, a faint smile spreading on his lips.

Because he needs to look on the bright side of things much more often.