The Rain's Touch
"Be sure to close up after midnight, Ya-chan!"
The young woman blew a strand of hair out of her face and turned to shout back, "I will!"
The sound of a creaky old door slamming echoed emptily from the stairwell behind her desk, and she sighed morosely. It was her own fault for ending up working the graveyard shift at the family inn. All sorts of weirdos came in after hours, most of them of the dirty and creepy variety.
But, hopefully, not too many would come in now, as outside was the sloshing sound of rain and an occasional burst of thunder. No lightning, though. That meant they wouldn't have to take down the metal flagpoles in the rain again. Good thing, too, as the pouring rain often waterlogged her hair and robes to the point of having seemed as if she'd jumped in a river.
"Hmmmf…" she hummed in boredom, leaning her chin on her hands as her elbows rested on top of her desk. And it was only half past eleven. No closing up until midnight, and the seconds were dragging by longer and longer…The lobby of the inn was unbelievably boring when deserted, the only sounds coming from the soft creaks of the old chairs and a single table kept for tired check-ins. All looked desolate without people to sit in them.
She closed her eyes, her fingers twirling a strand of hair, when…
Ding-cling-a-ling.
Her head jerked up in surprise to hear the front entrance bell chiming, and stared in shock to find a drenched, hooded figure shuffling inside out of the pouring rain. Astonished to find someone out this late and in such a storm, her mouth hung open as the newcomer shook themselves to be rid of dripping rain, and used a single hand to lift the concealing hood.
In that instant, her heart nearly jumped up out of her throat. This stranger was gorgeous. Despite the flashing fears of a creepier guest she'd had at first, the new guest turned out to be a handsome young man, in his twenties, she'd guess. Despite the ashen-paleness of his rain-drenched skin, she found herself adoring how his pitch-black hair plastered to his forehead, obviously not its usual position, and his wonderfully marble-like features that had him looking more statue than human. After a few more seconds of ogling, her receptionist training kicked into gear and she bolted from behind the desk.
"G-good evening, Sir!" she blurted overly-cheerfully, grabbing an armful of towels from the stack kept behind her counter. "We weren't expecting any guests so late. My name's Yaki, by the way. Goodness, you're soaked!"
The young man nodded silently, but took only one towel from her as she noticed his other hand seemed to be carrying something. Without a word, he turned to the nearest lobby chair and carefully placed the towel over the cushions before producing his object and lowering whatever it was onto the spongy fabric.
She blinked confusedly, at first seeing only a rolled-up wad of cloth, but in an instant the man's fingers parted the ragged edges, and a tiny, chubby face came into view.
A…baby?
"If it's not too much trouble," the man asked, jarring her out of her surprise, "I need a clean diaper. And milk, if you have any."
"O-of course, Sir!" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet and racing back into the crowded, cobwebby staff storage room. After a minute or so of sifting through the family-friendly supplies, she happened upon a stack of cloth diapers, which she grabbed before making a run to the kitchens.
"Here you are, Sir," she panted after racing back, having procured the asked-for items. The man only nodded his thanks, and began peeling the waterproofing cloth from around the baby's tiny body.
"Hush…" he whispered as the child whined softly. "Hush, To-chan…"
A girl… she thought, as the last layer of bundling was lifted away to reveal a tiny pink tunic, embroidered with faded flowers. The child continued to whine, scrunching her tiny eyes closed until her diaper had been changed, and the young man lifted her back into his arms, his fingertips brushing over the thin, wispy hairs on top of her head.
"Wh-…what is her name?" she found the courage to ask, watching the two settle back into the towel-covered chair with the cup of warm milk she had brought.
"…It's Toshie…" the man answered, his half-closed eyes riveted to the little girl as she gulped thirstily at the cup he tilted to her lips.
"Toshie…? As in, 'resembles her mother?'"
He nodded, still silent as he placed the emptied cup on the nearest side table. The girl in his lap gurgled contentedly now that she had been fed, and gazed about her with wide, greenish-blue eyes that sparkled adorably.
"Thank you," he said out of nowhere, "For all this." She shut her mouth guiltily, wondering how to ask him a personal question but not quite sure how. Those few words were all he said for some time, his eyes and attention fixed on the infant in his lap. The baby girl burbled obliviously, waving her chubby arms as her caretaker dried off any traces of rain with another towel.
"S-Sir," she interrupted tentatively, "Would you like me to find you a room? We're not overcrowded…And it's awfully late. I could find one with a crib for the little miss there…"
"No," he murmured, the baby using his thumb as a pacifier. "We'll…be going soon."
She wanted to protest, but stopped herself. She could see it in the young man's face now. Lines she hadn't noticed before, and a tiredness in his dulled eyes she knew she'd seen before. All of it revolved around the tiny child in his lap. No matter who his child was or where she had come from, he'd taken it upon himself to care for her.
"She was born…" the man whispered, quietly as not to wake the now-sleeping infant in his arms. "…On a night like this."
"Really…?"
"It was raining…We might've called her Amayako, Little Night Rain…"
Suddenly, she could clearly picture the scene he described in so few words. It would be dark, whether from lack of lighting or candles, she didn't know. She could imagine him, kneeling beside a traditional mat-bed, desperately clenching the hand of a woman whose face was tossed back, her pregnant belly heaving with every gasp that shuddered through her.
Lightning would flash overhead just once, bringing light to the beings hidden by shadows. The scene was now quiet, with only a silent, unmoving form under bloodstained blankets, and the huddled body of a man cradling a tiny, helpless newborn. A burst of thunder rolled across the sky, and she knew the air had first been filled with the cries of a motherless child.
"She died, didn't she?" she breathed, her eyes tearing up as she glanced again at the little girl.
The man didn't speak, but she knew his answer. Without being bidden, she got to her feet and returned to the staff rooms, reappearing after several minutes with a messenger bag and handfuls of other things.
"Here," she offered softly, placing beside him a child-sized blue plastic poncho. "This should keep her dry…And here, there's blankets and some diapers and bottled milk in the bag…They're all for you."
For possibly the first time since they'd met, he looked her in the eye, and some of the tiredness in his dark orbs seemed to vanish.
"…Thank you…" he breathed, already rewrapping the little girl in her insulating blankets before covering her with the poncho. The child slept soundly throughout all of this, only hitting home that this was a life she was used to, always moving from place to place.
"You're welcome back anytime, Sir," she managed to whispered before biting her lip to hold back tears as he stood up, the baby in one arm and the bag she'd given him in the other. "Have a safe…journey…"
Silent again, he gave her a last, curt nod before the door creaked, the overhead bell chimed, and he was gone. It was only now she realized the bucketing rain had slowed to a misty drizzle, as if relenting on the travelers it presided over.
As if in a trance, she found herself suddenly at a window, her breath fogging the glass as she pressed her forehead against it, eyes searching desperately for the two in the rainy darkness. As she realized they were already long gone, her eyes closed slowly, and she thought again of the little girl. "Toshie," he'd said. "Resembles her mother…"
She smiled, then. Because in her mind she could see the two, father and daughter, trudging along whichever path they were on now. And knowing, no matter how weary or hungry or lost they became, someone was always watching over them. Their own personal guardian angel, with shining white wings, and a halo floating above her rosy-pink hair.
They would never truly be alone.
-
Hao sad that watching the previews before the Star Trek movie inspired this. -_-;
