It was a horribly dreary day outside.

Rain pelted down from the heavens, attacking every surface viciously and splashing in every direction. Angry storm clouds covered every inch of the sky, not allowing so much as a peek of blue to shine through. And despite it being the beginning of spring, there was a chill in the air that meant that not even the children wanted to go out to play.

All the lights were on in the Vongola mansion, to combat the darkness of the storm - all the lights except the ones in the living room, where the only illumination came from the glow of the television.

An old, feel-good, family movie was currently on - the kind where the main character's biggest dilemma was whether their crush liked them back, and where everything faded to black in the end with the happy faces of the main cast smiling out at the camera.

Overall, it wasn't a very good movie.

Not that it mattered, of course. The two occupants of the room had long ago stopped paying attention to it.

Earlier, they had both nestled down on the sofa with the intention of not getting up for a good while, and they had stuck admirably to that plan.

The sofa, which could hardly be recognized as such any more, was draped all over with blankets (13 of them, to be precise).

Two empty cups, formerly containing hot chocolate, sat on the floor next to the sofa, tucked neatly out of the way so that neither of the young men would accidentally kick them over when they eventually had to get up.

Of the two young men (boys, really), one was currently fast asleep with his head on the other's lap. Every once in a while, he would shiver, as if feeling the chill of the storm that continued to rage outside, and would pull his blanket closer to himself, burrowing deeper into the warmth, and the comfort of another human nearby.

His legs, long and gangly and still a bit awkward from the late growth spurt he had gone through recently, were tucked up close to his body, rendering him into almost a foetal position.

The other young man was sitting up, with one of the blankets wrapped around his shoulders, staring at the television.

None of the images or the dialogue was processing though. He was completely lost in thought.

Whenever his friend, his boss, his brother, would stir in his sleep, the young man would immediately lay a hand on his head, maybe brush aside a lock of chestnut brown hair, in an attempt to quiet the tension in his companion's sleeping face.

Then, the furrow between those eyebrows would disappear, the frown would melt away, the twitching of his eyes behind his eyelids would stop.

This awake young man, Hayato Gokudera, was contemplating his place within his family - within the family he and his boss and the rest of the guardians had built together.

At just twenty-two years old, they had only been the heading the Vongola for a little over a year now.

But already, they had people talking about them, expecting things of them.

Their cloud was the strongest of them, no doubt about it.

Their mist was one of the most brutal people out there - others often wondered just how he was one of Vongola Decimo's people.

And their rain. People never wanted to shut up about their rain. He was the cheerful one, the ray of sunshine, the one with all of the potential.

But people had things to say about Hayato as well.

About how someone like Vongola Decimo deserved a much bigger storm, a stronger one.

And sometimes, Hayato let himself believe it.

That really drove his family crazy.

The last person that had called Hayato a "pathetic little mutt" had shown up on the front step of his Family's HQ the next day with his arms and legs bound and a collar around his neck.

A note taped to his forehead had been addressed to his Don and had said to, "Make sure your bitch is kept on a leash at all times and preferably muzzled so that he can't go around yapping at his superiors," among other things.

This had amused everyone to no end, and had convinced Hayato that maybe all those people putting him down were the ones in the wrong.

And sure, maybe he wasn't the strongest, or the most brutal, or the one with all the potential, but he was the Storm.

He was the storm who was continuously at the heart of the attack, the furious storm that never rests.

But more than all that, he was also the one that created the Eye of the Storm - a spot of calm in a sea of violence, a place of comfort and safety for his Sky to rest in.

And he was good at what he did.

As the Don of the biggest, most powerful Family in all of Italy, his sky, Tsunayosh Sawada, was always on alert, always ready to fight and protect what was his.

And that was why days like these were so important - they gave the ever watchful Sky a chance to let go of his wariness for a few short hours, to rest wholly and completely, without having always to keep one ear alert in case of an attack.

And it was all thanks to Hayato Gokudera.

The Storm would never rest, so long as it meant his Sky would have the chance to.

SkyGem: The end! Hope you all enjoyed it! Please let me know what you thought in a review, yes? This fic was mostly an exercise for me to try something new with my writing style. Did it work well? I myself am rather proud of how this came out. I was aiming for a cozy, contemplative mood for this. Props go to my darling Bleach-ed-Na-tsu for giving me so many amazing prompts! She's such a star, honestly, and I'm super glad to have had the chance to meet her. With this, it's six days in a row now that I've updated! Yay! Hopefully, I can soon get around to continuing my fics. Can't promise you when that will happen, but the next one to be updated will probably be Summer to Remember. Anyways, that's all for now! See you all tomorrow!