Summer Rain

なつ雨

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Takehito Koyasu © and the fanfiction belongs to me. The midi belongs to LUNA of Blue Moon Rain ©. The law prohibits stealing.

Warning: Yaoi, weird angst, character death. If this isn't your cup of tea, please leave immediately. Thanks for your co-operation.

Plot Cockroach: I figured that writing what people feel really helps when you're going through heartbreak and those kind of stuff. Of course, I may be wrong, but then again, I'd decided to write this little ficlet so that I could get on with updating happier stuff again, and it helps, trust me. I thought this out when I was listening to one piano solo I saved from the web. The title for that song was Blue Rain, not Summer Rain, but I think that Summer Rain sounds better for this ficlet. I love piano solos… don't you? But anyway, Ran will be playing it. I thought of doing it as per Ken's POV, but for some twisted reason, I opted for Ran to angst instead. Ken doesn't hit me as a piano playing person… o_0

Pairing (if that's all you're here for): Ran x Ken

Notes: The characters look like that from the manga, not the TV series.

--+~*~*~*~*~-|-~*~*~*~*~+--

The silent sun dances in the midday sky,

And the clouds, they swim swiftly by,

Their pain is beautiful; it takes our breath away,

But for now, I'll just pretend

That these tears are nothing more than rain on a summer's day.

A vase of peach colored roses sat elegantly on the piano top, scenting the air with its gentle perfume. The air was slightly cool, although it was the month of May. Outside, everyday words were drowned by the pattering of raindrops against the glass windows into nothingness, as they were inside, by the melody that chimed in behind the locked door.

Strangely, despite the shower, the sky was still a stretch of blue, like that of a robin's egg. The sun shone high in the sky, still, as if trying to listen to the melody through the piercing noise of the city that lay below. The clouds sailed by, humming to its tune, the tune of a soft, gentle shower of rain, soothing rain, on a warm summer day.

But they weren't listening hard enough.

If they had, they would have heard the beat of a heart that was broken, and the quiet smashing of teardrops against a heaving chest.

No, they weren't listening hard enough.

They only heard the harmonious chimes of a piano playing, smoothly, serenely, against the beating water that washed the world clean of its filth. The melody was carved and formed by clever, elegant fingers, with a memory for songs beyond recall. And the sun and the clouds looked in though the window, and they saw only beauty though the glass. They smiled at it, appreciating it.

But they weren't looking hard enough.

If they had, they would have seen those pearl-like tears that hit the black fabric of a shirt, and shattered into a million pieces of glass, before dissolving into nothing, and they would have noticed the violet gaze that saw then, only pain. There was no smile to add to the beauty they perceived.

No, they weren't looking hard enough.

They only saw the solemn beauty of a young man playing his heart to a tune on rain that fell and cleaned the streets of a dirt-stained city. They saw the fingers that ran through the keys, gently, striking them at the right time, right way. His skin was fair and fresh, like that of a cream white rose, and his hair was as scarlet as a single red one. The color of his eyes they could not tell, it was always changing, sometimes like a silvery purple dawn, at times as lush as lavender in full bloom, or as shy as a violet in the woods.

He played on, and they shut their eyes and signed.

Beautiful.

That is they way that it shall be.

The young man too closed his eyes, now not looking at the keys. It was in his memory of touch and sense, and he could clearly now hear the music he was playing. He could hear the rain outside, sliding down the windows, smashing against the glass. It felt so full, and yet so alike nothing at all. And that was how he'd keep his sanity.

And he remembered. The days when the weather was warmer, and full of life. He saw those speaking brown eyes, smiling as they danced under the rain on a full spring day. It was then when he had learnt to truly laugh, and to view his life as it really was. He smiled as he remembered the clumsy, stuttering words as the brunet shyly proclaimed his love for him. And their first kiss, soft and chaste, under the tree of a soccer field that stretched green before their eyes. It was as clear as yesterday.

And yet, just yesterday, his heart was torn in two. The casket was black, and the flowers were white. And he himself threw a flower into the earth, but it wasn't white, nor was it red - it was peach, just like the ones he had received when they had first discovered their hidden feelings. He hadn't cried then.

And he didn't cry now.

No, he wasn't crying. He ever did, and he never will. These drops of water that fell that day weren't tears, they never were, and they never will be.

He opened his eyes, and looked outside of the window, seated where he was. The sky was clear, and the sun shone brightly through the transparent glass. Birdsong filled the air, as he ceased playing the piano. The song had ended. His smile grew a little wider, even as it was still faint.

A rainbow hung in the sky, an arc over the rooftops of the buildings. It was a divine promise, he knew, that no longer will there be a great flood to destroy all hope, because it itself was the symbol of hope to all mankind.

No, those drops of water that fell that day weren't tears. He knew that it was simply rain on a summer's day, rain that washed his pain away.

~*~*~ End ~*~*~

Note: Hmm, I feel all better now. About the peach colored roses, well, it's just my thing for reflection. It'll pass, don't worry! As for the midi file, just click here (http://www.geocities.com/arc_angel_seph/fanfic/weiss_srainmid.html), the QuickTime player is set, because piano solos sound very good in QuickTime… (^^;) Sorry for this corny ficlet. It's horrible, isn't it?