Rain.
I slide a finger across the contour of my face. That familiar past is escaping from me… I try to grab it before it disappears, but touch only empty air.
Rain in autumn seems a bit desolate. It's not as memorable as winter drizzles nor as lovable as spring showers, and definitely not as endearing as summer sprinkles. But this featureless autumn rain is reminiscent of a dream… a dream frozen into time…
***
He and I stood under this tree, grinning at each other like idiots. Under this tree, where gentle drops of rain landed softly onto our hair, our eyes, our lips….
He turned - flashed me a smile naughtily - and dragged me out… out of the protective arms of the tree into the rain.
Let us enjoy the loving caress of nature and forget about the melancholy and sorrow that haunted us. Let them follow the raindrops into the earth, into the rivers, into the deep ocean, never to return.
But the rain didn't listen.
That spring I must leave the comfort of home and jump into the rapids of the outside world. There was no anguish, no excitement, just a slight desperation. He let go of my hand and reached into his soaked shirt pocket.
"Here," he said, holding up a tiny stone.
I didn't say anything. Reaching over, I accepted the stone from him and squeezed his hand slightly.
The small droplets sliding down our faces. Rain? Tears? We didn't bother to examine them.
Isn't rain in the spring suppose to be a joyous occasion, filled with laughing voices and words?
Silence accompanied us, along with the weeping rain.
***
It had been five years and countless rain showers since I arrived in the United States. The wild appreciation and love I had for this simple present from nature had departed me. It was hot this summer, if it hadn't started raining, I was sure I would had gone mad. Standing in the pouring rain at the train station with an umbrella waiting for someone to show up was definitely not fun, but it was better than baking under the sun.
I felt my heart matching the drumming of the rain in beats, running out of control. Summer showers felt especially heavy, as if every single drop was forcing me to lower my head, to admit defeat. I stood in the rain, continuing my silent battle with the rain, until a familiar face smiled at me.
Slightly too thin and pale; the soft curve of those eyebrows; and the gleam in those whispering violet eyes, all the same as those of the person from my memories.
My heart slowed down until it again settled at its usual pace. The uncertainty and anxiety that had struggled with me for the past half an hour merged with the raindrops that landed on my umbrella. Encircling each other in an eternal embrace, they rolled down onto the ground, and disappeared from sight.
Standing under an umbrella, he waved his hand at me. I walked toward him.
It was still raining. We walked under the sanctuary of the two umbrellas and enjoyed the silence shrouding us. We concentrated on the raindrops that were descending onto the ground, welcoming the fate the awaited them as they touched the earth. One by one, they sacrificed themselves, leaving not a trace of their shattered bodies. We watched the rain that was no longer there, as if that scene was the amazing thing we had ever experienced.
Time passed us by wordlessly, until he stopped it, "Are you… well?"
I nodded. "What about you? Getting used to life in America?"
From his voice, I could taste his smile again. "Not too bad. Just that allergies are bothering me here and there, very inconvenient."
"You still like to crawl around crowded places in search of those miraculous breakthroughs? Those filthy places… no wonder your allergies would act up. I dare say if you don't stop poking around experimenting you'll die of sneezing." I allowed my voice to display my displeasure fully.
For a while there was only the sound of his rhythmic laughter. "You haven't changed at all either, always acting mature and trying to map out my life." Looking at me crookedly, he ruffled my hair. Not about to show my weakness, I did the same to him, though his hair looked disorganized enough even without my having to interfere.
*****
There should be snow in winter, no? Because the temperature was moderately high where I lived, snow was a rare event. Whenever those saintly pale flakes appeared, everyone would put down the work they had in their hands and watch the snow with glances of admiration. Though understandingly clearly that this snow would not survive the morning, people still wanted to savor that instant of beauty that would take short residence in their hearts.
I looked at him quietly, awaiting the answer. I could not decipher the expression on his face. I could do nothing but wait.
"I'm sorry, Bou-chan."
My heart sank. The small stone in my pocket replace the weight of the hand that just pulled away from mine, dragging me down, almost taking me to the ground. But I didn't let him see the hurt in my eyes. The pain, the helplessness, the broken heart, let them disappear with me forever, I secretly hoped.
"Ha! I figured you'd say that. I'm glad you didn't agree to it. Imagine living with me for the rest of your life. You would have to cook for me, clean for me… and you'll have to take care of the huge peach garden behind my house! HA! You'll die of exhaustion… HAHAHAHA…" I kept on laughing… until the bitterness drowned me.
His smile lost its color. Ignoring me, he walked away.
From my life.
The snow had turned into rain when we weren't paying attention… a freezing rain.
***
" To Taikoubou-kun:"
I sat down on the sofa, heart skipping a beat, holding the first letter he mailed me in three years. After that incident, he returned to New York. We lost contact, or rather, we decided to lose contact. The handwriting on the envelope did not belong to him. I figured out that it was a letter from him from the address.
I guessed wrong again.
"Hello. This is auntie Yuukyou and uncle Kihatsu, Fugen's parents.
The silly boy insisted on not telling you the truth and also forbade us to do so. But at this point, there is no longer need to keep this from you.
He passed away two weeks ago. He smiled until his last moment. He left us peacefully. It was his decision to leave quietly.
Three years ago Fugen was diagnosed with brain cancer and was told that he might not live for more than a few years. He decided to travel the world, because that had always been his wish. He was strong until the last moment, not shedding any tears for himself.
Taikoubou-kun, do not be sad for him. Fugen was happy. We knew that the only regret he had was not being able to spend the last of his days with you, but he did not want you to suffer. It was cruel for both of you, but Fugen always did choose to follow the cruelest path. We don't know what happened between the two of you, but you were the only one in his thoughts, even…."
I did not continue reading. The letter slid from my hand onto the soft, leaving without making a sound.
I ran out of the house, into the rain, and screamed. Autumn rain was no longer desolate, for now there was someone else who felt more pain and loneliness than it did. As if hearing my calls, it whipped me mercilessly, leaving mark after mark, gloating in the satisfaction that I will never forget this gust of nameless autumn rain.
When autumn passes, winter is already here.
I slide a finger across the contour of my face. That familiar past is escaping from me… I try to grab it before it disappears, but touch only empty air.
Rain in autumn seems a bit desolate. It's not as memorable as winter drizzles nor as lovable as spring showers, and definitely not as endearing as summer sprinkles. But this featureless autumn rain is reminiscent of a dream… a dream frozen into time…
***
He and I stood under this tree, grinning at each other like idiots. Under this tree, where gentle drops of rain landed softly onto our hair, our eyes, our lips….
He turned - flashed me a smile naughtily - and dragged me out… out of the protective arms of the tree into the rain.
Let us enjoy the loving caress of nature and forget about the melancholy and sorrow that haunted us. Let them follow the raindrops into the earth, into the rivers, into the deep ocean, never to return.
But the rain didn't listen.
That spring I must leave the comfort of home and jump into the rapids of the outside world. There was no anguish, no excitement, just a slight desperation. He let go of my hand and reached into his soaked shirt pocket.
"Here," he said, holding up a tiny stone.
I didn't say anything. Reaching over, I accepted the stone from him and squeezed his hand slightly.
The small droplets sliding down our faces. Rain? Tears? We didn't bother to examine them.
Isn't rain in the spring suppose to be a joyous occasion, filled with laughing voices and words?
Silence accompanied us, along with the weeping rain.
***
It had been five years and countless rain showers since I arrived in the United States. The wild appreciation and love I had for this simple present from nature had departed me. It was hot this summer, if it hadn't started raining, I was sure I would had gone mad. Standing in the pouring rain at the train station with an umbrella waiting for someone to show up was definitely not fun, but it was better than baking under the sun.
I felt my heart matching the drumming of the rain in beats, running out of control. Summer showers felt especially heavy, as if every single drop was forcing me to lower my head, to admit defeat. I stood in the rain, continuing my silent battle with the rain, until a familiar face smiled at me.
Slightly too thin and pale; the soft curve of those eyebrows; and the gleam in those whispering violet eyes, all the same as those of the person from my memories.
My heart slowed down until it again settled at its usual pace. The uncertainty and anxiety that had struggled with me for the past half an hour merged with the raindrops that landed on my umbrella. Encircling each other in an eternal embrace, they rolled down onto the ground, and disappeared from sight.
Standing under an umbrella, he waved his hand at me. I walked toward him.
It was still raining. We walked under the sanctuary of the two umbrellas and enjoyed the silence shrouding us. We concentrated on the raindrops that were descending onto the ground, welcoming the fate the awaited them as they touched the earth. One by one, they sacrificed themselves, leaving not a trace of their shattered bodies. We watched the rain that was no longer there, as if that scene was the amazing thing we had ever experienced.
Time passed us by wordlessly, until he stopped it, "Are you… well?"
I nodded. "What about you? Getting used to life in America?"
From his voice, I could taste his smile again. "Not too bad. Just that allergies are bothering me here and there, very inconvenient."
"You still like to crawl around crowded places in search of those miraculous breakthroughs? Those filthy places… no wonder your allergies would act up. I dare say if you don't stop poking around experimenting you'll die of sneezing." I allowed my voice to display my displeasure fully.
For a while there was only the sound of his rhythmic laughter. "You haven't changed at all either, always acting mature and trying to map out my life." Looking at me crookedly, he ruffled my hair. Not about to show my weakness, I did the same to him, though his hair looked disorganized enough even without my having to interfere.
*****
There should be snow in winter, no? Because the temperature was moderately high where I lived, snow was a rare event. Whenever those saintly pale flakes appeared, everyone would put down the work they had in their hands and watch the snow with glances of admiration. Though understandingly clearly that this snow would not survive the morning, people still wanted to savor that instant of beauty that would take short residence in their hearts.
I looked at him quietly, awaiting the answer. I could not decipher the expression on his face. I could do nothing but wait.
"I'm sorry, Bou-chan."
My heart sank. The small stone in my pocket replace the weight of the hand that just pulled away from mine, dragging me down, almost taking me to the ground. But I didn't let him see the hurt in my eyes. The pain, the helplessness, the broken heart, let them disappear with me forever, I secretly hoped.
"Ha! I figured you'd say that. I'm glad you didn't agree to it. Imagine living with me for the rest of your life. You would have to cook for me, clean for me… and you'll have to take care of the huge peach garden behind my house! HA! You'll die of exhaustion… HAHAHAHA…" I kept on laughing… until the bitterness drowned me.
His smile lost its color. Ignoring me, he walked away.
From my life.
The snow had turned into rain when we weren't paying attention… a freezing rain.
***
" To Taikoubou-kun:"
I sat down on the sofa, heart skipping a beat, holding the first letter he mailed me in three years. After that incident, he returned to New York. We lost contact, or rather, we decided to lose contact. The handwriting on the envelope did not belong to him. I figured out that it was a letter from him from the address.
I guessed wrong again.
"Hello. This is auntie Yuukyou and uncle Kihatsu, Fugen's parents.
The silly boy insisted on not telling you the truth and also forbade us to do so. But at this point, there is no longer need to keep this from you.
He passed away two weeks ago. He smiled until his last moment. He left us peacefully. It was his decision to leave quietly.
Three years ago Fugen was diagnosed with brain cancer and was told that he might not live for more than a few years. He decided to travel the world, because that had always been his wish. He was strong until the last moment, not shedding any tears for himself.
Taikoubou-kun, do not be sad for him. Fugen was happy. We knew that the only regret he had was not being able to spend the last of his days with you, but he did not want you to suffer. It was cruel for both of you, but Fugen always did choose to follow the cruelest path. We don't know what happened between the two of you, but you were the only one in his thoughts, even…."
I did not continue reading. The letter slid from my hand onto the soft, leaving without making a sound.
I ran out of the house, into the rain, and screamed. Autumn rain was no longer desolate, for now there was someone else who felt more pain and loneliness than it did. As if hearing my calls, it whipped me mercilessly, leaving mark after mark, gloating in the satisfaction that I will never forget this gust of nameless autumn rain.
When autumn passes, winter is already here.