Author's Note: Hey Guys. You must be thinking 0.o who is this? She's posted again? And not after a two year gap! Hehe, this is a little thing I wrote over Halloween. I finished watching Cry plays: Forest of the Drizzling Rain the day before Halloween. I love Cry btw. I love how the game had rather rustic Indie graphics but was still beautiful. The story took centre stage and made you want to save the characters. I was grinning like a maniac when the 'Two's promise' ending (whatever it's called) played. I really think Suga and Shiori make a nice couple. Any way, I felt inspired to write this; it was going to be a One-shot but I haven't thought of an appropriate end. Look forward to that. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Forest of the Drizzling Rain; heck I haven't even played it the whole way though yet. I just sat back and watched the amazing Cry play it.
The grey curtain drew across the land; the familiar monotonous skyline having lost its usual threatening connotations. The small sprays of rain spiralled from the heavens – gracing the earth with its essential nurturing presence. The dense foliage hugged and clustered; almost attempting to warm each other from the frigid morning air. The air was still, yet fresh – the stale stench of fear withered away along with the age old terror previously harboured in the undergrowth.
Shiori sat at the window of one of the rooms at the rear of the museum; looking through the window that resembled a pointillism picture due to the flecks of rain splayed across it. The glass became clouded with the ghost of her breathing.
Azakawa Village had changed after the withdrawal of the Kotori Obake: the earth seemed warmer; the air less ferocious, life was calmer. Shiori herself had changed due to the Kotori Obake; she had not realised it due to her loss of memory. Without that memory she had become a different person; no longer the strong, assertive girl she once was – now she was a conservative, more sensible girl; one who was less likely to get into fist fights on the edge of a forest.
A subtle knock-knock came from the direction of the door.
"Come in, Suga-kun." Suga had undoubtedly changed the most: he was the cry-baby, sensitive child no more. Now he was a stronger, more independent person; yes he still had his sensitive ways but Shiori was the only one who really saw that side of him.
He stepped into the room; bowing his head respectfully. He had changed very little to the eye; his increased height and more defined facial features the only difference between the present Suga and the Suga that Shiori had loved and lost. He had always been her best friend; even when she could not remember him, she felt emptiness in her heart as though a part of her were missing.
A memo was promptly passed to her; it read:
'Sakuma-chan will be over soon. Do you want any breakfast before she's here?'
In answer, Shiori's stomach rumbled; her face erupted into a blush. Suga gave a silent chuckle that was more just a movement of his shoulders than an actual laugh. Though his voice had been returned to him with the extradition of the malevolent spirits; he did not use it frequently when around Shiori however he had never even hinted that he could speak whence in public. It was a secret he only shared with Shiori; the idea never failed to make her smile.
They made their way through the museum in companionable silence. The museum still had an eerie feel to it but it felt nowhere near as sinister as when she had first arrived at the village. The memory of wandering the museum in the dark; seeing the sinister shadow of Suga wielding his night glow stone sword still sent shivers down her spine. Though she now knew she was never really in any danger she had been rather scared at the time. Suga looked over to her; his usual stoic expression set in place. Shiori offered a smile in return causing Sugar to startle and blush; apparently not meaning to be seen.
She found his lack of knowledge on how to cope with social situations both endearing and annoying. She felt rather flattered by the flustered way he reacted to her company; she also felt better knowing that she was not the only one who had difficulty conversing with others. However, it became tiresome to consistently have to evoke conversations which end up being one sided. It wouldn't be unwelcome for Suga to reciprocate her efforts once in a while.
Sitting at the small table, Shiori watched her friend dabble at the small stove. His cooking ability had somewhat improved after some tutoring on her part. One can only consume charcoal for so long. His forte was certainly pancakes. He privately enjoyed the showmanship involved with flipping them. It always made Shiori slightly sad; his previous loneliness evident in how he thrived on the little praise and attention given to the slightly plaintive party-piece. She felt hollow at the thought of Suga being lonely: she had felt its cold embrace first hand after her parents' death. It is a curse she would bestow upon none. An incandescent need to hug Suga washed over her. Slowly, silently she stepped over to him; wrapping her arms around his torso. He was startled by the contact but did not try to escape it. They both felt secure in each other's presence; the years, clairvoyant beings and memory loss having done nothing to their bond. They separated once the subtle smell of burn wafted from the skillet on the stove. Suga went back to attending to the food whilst Shiori returned to her seat; grinning to herself.
Breakfast this morning was scrambled eggs, only small fractions of which had caught. They were, admittedly a little bland but that didn't matter: food is always better when it's made by someone you care for.
"Thank you, Suga-kun. It's truly delectable; you truly are getting better." She smiled over the table at him. He bristled slightly trying to contain himself. He inevitably lost the will to hide his feelings and beamed at her, clearly touched by her praise. Small shards of salt water appeared in the crevices of his eyes; yearning to be set free. Shiori slid her hand across the table to smooth his hair before sliding down to cup his cheek. The pair exchanged a deep look into each other's eyes.
"Shii-san….thank...you...you're too…kind." His voice was hoarse from lack of use and it was clear his throat hurt from the exertion of freeing the words but Sugar seemed gratified enough. Shiori was pleased that he was content. That was enough for her.
Sakuma slipped in whilst the pair were washing the dishes. She entered unannounced; slipping in for a short hello before sleuthing straight into one of the rooms at the hind of the building to read a book. Suga notified Shiori that he would be going out. After some pressing she found out he was going to go to his workshop; he had not had much time to craft any pieces from night glow stone. It was his form of relaxation so she did not deny him it. He offered for her to join him but it was clear to her he wanted some alone time. She politely declined; saying she would spend some time with Sakuma.
She found Sakuma reading one of Suga's picture books in the old playroom. The dark haired girl seemed to find the book funny as she was giggling softly. Shiori sat next to her; preparing to scold the other for mocking her friend. That was before she saw the image on the slightly crinkled page: it showed a young boy that was clearly Suga and a young girl that looked strikingly similar to herself as a child. Sakuma turned to her, a sly grin in place.
"So Onee-san; are you and the manager going to get married?" The question caught Shiori off guard; causing her to falter, fumbling for an answer.
"No, of course not Sakuma-chan; what are you looking at?" She held out the worn book. It had been read multiple times if the state of the spine were anything to go by. The images were drawn by Suga's hand; the images clearly reflected of the pair as children but what did it mean? The easiest answer would be to simply say it was Suga mourning the loss of his friend; nonetheless the care taken in the detail of the pictures, particularly of Shiori, implied a deeper set of emotions.
"Does Suga-kun like you Onee-san? I certainly seems that way." It did seem that way. Nevertheless, there was no concrete proof to suggest Suga had any feeling along those lines.
"Onee-san, do you like Suga-kun?" The question was ambiguous but Shiori knew what the real question being posed was: did she love Suga? Did she? Yes she loved him but that was because he was a fundamental part of her life, of who she was. The thought of him being alone caused her pain; the prospect of losing him was her biggest fear. Whilst in the caves evading the Kotori Obake, she cared not for her safety but Suga's. Likewise, it would be nice to be closer to him and the thought of kissing him wasn't a terrible one. But did that mean she loved him?
"I don't know; I think I might but how can I be sure?" Sakuma stroked the other girl soothingly; comforting her though the inconclusiveness. Matters of the heart are truly delicate affairs especially when a particularly vulnerable person is involved; Shiori did not wish to harm the bond between Suga and herself. "Oh Sakuma-chan; what situation I find myself in."