.
Pitter.
.
It's not like they don't know each other. They have each other's name recorded in their minds, they see each other pretty often (although it isn't done intentionally) but their worlds are so different that it's unlikely for them to cross path.
It doesn't matter for her. Nothing about it really matters for her. She's just living her life; the same way he's just living his life. She will shrug off all thoughts about her classmates because that's it. Classmates. There's nothing really special about them. They study together in the same class, they work together in their group projects, but that's it. And he's no exception.
"I rarely talk to you," he calls with a thin smile on his face.
With her eyes to the soaked road in front of them, she replies, "We don't really have anything to talk about."
He laughs lightly at her statement. "I guess that's true. And you don't really talk in the class, anyway."
A thought crosses her mind, that she should reply him back by saying, "Yeah," but she dismisses it. She decides not to give any reaction to his words, not even a simple nod. It doesn't really matter, now, is it?
A soft sigh escaped her mouth as she stares ahead. The heavy rain doesn't seem to stop anytime soon. If anything, it seems to get heavier. It should not be a matter. Heavy rain, thunders, lightnings, it is all just some natural occurrences she shouldn't be worried about. But she doesn't want to bother with her soaking wet shirt if she decided to continue walking in the heavy rain—her mother would surely tell her off.
How troublesome.
But maybe, forgetting to bring her umbrella is the most troublesome of all.
When the rain started to get heavier, she instinctively tried to find a place to cover herself. Luckily there's a bus shelter nearby, so she quickly ran into it without a second thought. She breathed out a sigh of relief after managing to reach the shelter safely.
She was, however, not expecting someone to be there. It looked empty from the outside—maybe because the rain made her unable to see things clearly—and there weren't that many people walking down the street to begin with. She didn't bat an eye to the person, and focusing her attention on her shoes instead. But when he called her, she had no choice but to turn her head to that person.
"Hey."
She knows him. Well, naturally she knows him, a guy from her class. But she guesses that even if he's not in the same class as her, she'd know him anyway. He's one of those popular guys in the school, after all.
Blinking, she greeted him back, "It's a surprise seeing you here, Kagamine-kun."
"Same to you, Kagamine."
They call each other by the same name… But, really, it doesn't matter. It's just a coincidence that she's in the same class with another Kagamine, nothing she's really bothered about. She has nothing against him, nor something about him—his existence as a whole doesn't matter to her.
That is not the case right now. She has no choice but to bother this once. They happen to be trapped under the rain in an otherwise empty bus shelter together, after all. But as he said it, she doesn't really talk. And he hasn't said a word since then.
Talk about being rude.
She is being rude; now that it dawns upon her. But she can't bring herself to say something, either. Maybe he would understand? He had agreed that they don't have anything to talk about, after all.
A lightning flashes. The drenched road in front of them reflect its light, making the road seem to shine for a very short moment. Following it is the roaring sound of the thunder.
And for a moment, she thinks that she hears something. Not the thunder—something that gets drowned by the thunder. Like a voice, a male's voice.
She turns her head. "Did you say something?"
"Hmm," he simply drags out the sound as he gazes at the road, his eyes aren't meeting hers.
She has no idea what he meant by that. She can't tell if that's a 'yes' or 'no'. She wants to ask, but then again, it doesn't really matter. She can live just well without hearing an answer from him.
"You're always alone."
His voice comes suddenly. And she, having given up on hearing an answer, turns her head in an instance.
With his eyes staring right ahead, looking as if empty, he continues, "Don't you feel lonely?"
After hearing his question, she looks away from him, watching the passing rain herself. Thousands of droplets prodding the roof, the noise fills her ears. She was curious, but she wasn't expecting his question to be that question.
"Well," she starts, "Not at all. Actually, I like it better when I'm alone."
There's no reaction from him. He's the one who's asking, and now he's the one who's not saying anything. She doesn't know what to do, whether to continue talking or to wait for him to say something. Maybe she shouldn't have said anything in the first place.
And after a long note of silence, he asks again, "Is that true?"
She's quite taken aback by his question—she thought he would just end it right there, but no, he doesn't.
"I have no reason to lie about my feelings."
The sound of the heavy rain fills the silence. All the times of being alone, she had always enjoyed the silence, but not that time. She wishes that he could just… say something. It's awkward; she never really communicates with the others directly like this. Now that she does, it's just awkward.
Or is it?
"I see."
He's looking away. She notices.
"I think I should go. See ya."
It happens so fast that she barely has any time to react to his sudden decision. "Wait, the rain is—!"
But he's already gone from her sight, his figure disappearing in the middle of the rain. It really doesn't matter to her; the fact that he has left her alone in the shelter. But she thinks that she saw something just before he went away.
And somehow it bothers her.
.
Patter.
.
She doesn't really mind the commotion during the lunch break.
They will pull out chairs from its desks and gather them around one or two desks. Shortly, with those chairs occupied, they start chatting mindlessly until the bell rings. Only then, they'll stop and return their seats to their desks.
The popular guys.
While some people flat out dislike them, she, however, feels indifferent to them. They don't bother her, after all, there's no need to have some kind of grudge towards them. That's it and that's it about the popular guys. It shouldn't matter for her.
And yet, she's watching them—no, she's watching him, who happens to be in that group at the moment. She knows that she wouldn't pay that much attention to those guys, let alone to him in particular, if it wasn't for what happened in the day before. She simply just can't let her thought off from him after he dashed through the rain. For what purpose was it? She can't understand, and that bothers her so much. If he didn't mind the rain, why bother taking shelter in the first place?
And maybe he had his hair wet from the rain already, so the thing she saw was…
However, he does seem to look off. She doesn't really pay attention to him before, but something is just off. He is visibly looking unenthusiastic with the whole talk, and he looks like he's about to doze off at any other second. He actually looks pale; maybe he's not feeling well?
As she's thinking about that, he stands up, pulling up a sheepish grin to his friend while pointing to the outside—he's excusing himself. The he walks away, almost stumbling, and somehow she just has to bother this time. Unknowingly to him, she follows him out of the classroom.
He walks fast; she has a little trouble following him. But as she's about to reach him, he stumbles, almost tripping. She catches his hand just in time.
"Are you okay?" she asks, nothing but a courtesy. She knows just by holding his hand that he's not okay, his hand is too warm for a normal temperature. "Yesterday, you suddenly ran into the rain, so—"
"I'm okay," he breathes out, "nothing you should worry about."
But it's that face again, the same face he showed just before he left her yesterday. Tears are welling up his eyes, not falling, but staying there. As if they cannot fall.
"Are you…?"
"It's the fever," he replies as he wipes the tears off his eyes with his free hand. "I'm heading to the clinic, so, really, it's fine."
And he releases her grip on his hand before walking away from her. She can only watch him from behind as her hand falls to her side.
It's not fine, she knows it. And it's not even about his physical health.
.
Pitter.
.
"It really rains a lot lately…"
She can hear his light voice between the sound of the pattering rain, but she says nothing in return, letting the sound of the rain fill the silence instead. It's not ending, it's like the sky just poured a huge bucket of water to the land. As she watches the rain pass, she lets out a sigh. It's not stopping anytime soon…
Déjà vu.
No, it really is the same thing happening again—she just happens to forget her umbrella again when it rains oh-so-conveniently in the afternoon and so she decided to cover herself under the very same shelter like some days before. Little did she know that he would be there, sheltering himself just like before.
Fate sure likes to toy with her.
Being trapped in a small place with no one else but him and herself, she doesn't mind that much. (Although it's a wonder that she had somehow managed to run into him against all odds.) But she would rather watch the rain than engaging in a conversation with him. It doesn't matter, after all. She doesn't need to talk to him, and she can just enjoy the silence by herself. Even his presence doesn't matter at all to her…
Or so she would like to think.
But it's not like that. It's not like that at all. For some reason, she cannot face the situation like how she faced it before; she just can't pretend that he's not there. His presence does matter greatly to her, and that's because she cannot let the thoughts off her head. Ever since he left her under this shelter some days ago, the thought about him has been nagging her—that he doesn't seem to be what she has otherwise believed. The popular guy.
It is what it is. But now that she thinks about it, that term doesn't really define anything. Being the popular guy doesn't make him any different with any other person.
She closes her eyes for a moment. The events from before replays back in her mind.
Of course.
Now having her eyes opened, she stares hard to the concrete underneath her feet. And here comes nothing…
"Are you okay with the way things are?"
Seeming startled with her sudden call, he turns his head and stares at her with a quizzical look. But then his gaze hardens, he stays silent for a little while before saying, "I thought we don't have anything to talk about."
"Aren't you just avoiding my question, Kagamine-kun?"
She turns her head to see him looking at her with an unreadable expression. Words soon come out from his lips, "And why would you ask? Does it matter to you, anyway?"
"I saw it," she admits out. "I know that it's not fine—you're hiding something."
"I'm not—"
"You were crying."
And he stops the moment those words come out from her mouth. Slowly, he closes his mouth and turns his head away from her.
"You were crying, right?"
It's like the words have silenced him completely. There's no exchange between the two of them, all that continues to sound is the rain. His mouth is sealed tight while his eyes are once again cast to the rain. If anything, the only thing that speaks up are those eyes, shrouded with hints of sadness; even that is completely visible from her viewpoint. Those are the very same eyes she saw back then, before it disappeared before her own eyes. She didn't get any chance to say anything then.
Only then he turns away completely, in a way she can no more see his face. But she can see enough to tell that he's looking up to the sky. She wonders why—there isn't anything up there but the dark clouds with the raindrops that are falling from it.
Just like tears. Falling.
"Well," he starts, dragging the silence long enough before he continues on, "there's no such thing like that, you know."
And he still hasn't turned to face her. She cannot guess what face he's making right now, or what kind of expression is reflected on his face, but she can hear the change of tone in his voice. An obvious made-up cheeriness sprinkled to it, a blatant lie. Just a moment before, he reacted to her initial question in a harsh way, but that voice just now—it's as if he was trying to convince her otherwise, that he's okay, that there's nothing she should worry about. All for nothing, because she knows too well, it's not okay.
She noticed, even when she's not supposed to. She wouldn't care about his feeling, she wouldn't even bother trying to care about him, at all, if it wasn't for what she saw before—his tears. Only after that she starts to take a glance at him, maybe twice or thrice. Once in a while, she would catch him glancing back at her with a solemn look on his face, but oddly enough, that look seems to disappear when he turns back to his friends, a smile replacing its place.
Only after that she noticed the odd expression reflected through his eyes. It's like his smile doesn't reach his eyes. It's not like he's not feeling happy being there, but it's like… there's more behind those eyes. Those tears wouldn't fall off for no reason.
And yet, he's still denying it.
"You lied." She tries to keep her voice loud so it doesn't get drowned in the loud pattering of the rain. "I don't understand why you can't be honest about your feelings, at least just this time."
She only noticed how heavy the rain is. She can barely make the silhouette of shops on the other side of the road, and the faint flickering of the traffic light. There's no one passing by the street; the rain had gotten too heavy for anyone to walk under, even with umbrellas. The heavy raindrops are hammering the shelter with its loud sound, she find it hard to hear anything else, even though she doubts that there's anything to hear to begin with.
But when he finally opens his mouth again, she can hear it clearly.
"Maybe I just don't have a reason to be honest."
His voice comes out slowly, dripping with a forlorn sadness. Just by hearing it, her heart stirs uncomfortably. It shouldn't matter, she tells herself once more, but…
"It really doesn't matter, anyway, so why should I be honest about it?"
But she wants to care, she wants to make it a matter for herself. She cannot stand staying there doing nothing, she cannot leave him broken just like that. She wants to do something for him—she's allowed to have that feeling.
Right?
So she reaches out and grabs his hand. The touch makes her feel the cold tips of his fingers, although it doesn't have much difference with her own. They are both feeling cold under the rain, after all.
"But I see through your lies."
She can see him visibly flinching at her words, almost like he naïvely believed that he won't be caught red-handed, like he hopelessly believed that nobody will say those words. The hand she's holding on feels really fragile, really helpless, although physically it might not be. And it's cold, even inside.
She wonders if a touch could make him feel warmer.
From behind, she pulls herself closer to him. With her hand still entwined with his, she leans her head to his back, smiling to herself as she speaks to him.
"That's why, there's no need to hide your feelings from me."
And he breaks down. The wall he had built up is no more. He's crumbling, crouching down with his head buried in his hands, crying a muffled cries. He's shrinking, becoming smaller, completely helpless, completely broken, and he's unable to hold it back anymore.
She goes down to his level, encircling her arms around his sobbing figure. She has been avoiding the rain, but she doesn't mind anymore having her shirt drenched. A voice at the back of her head tells her that it's weird—it's weird that she's doing something like that, but it doesn't matter. It really doesn't matter, as long as she can do something for him.
Together with the rain, the sound of his cries fills the shelter.
.
Patter.
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