The ticking clock informed Kamijou-san that three minutes and thirty-two seconds has passed since she last checked on her infant son—long enough, in her opinion.
He's only been home for two whole days now, but a surge of motherliness has empowered her body and soul, and she cannot help checking on him and fussing over him incessantly. Eagerly, she scurries into the nursery and her expression mitigates at the sight of her adorable newborn. He lies in his crib, almost engulfed by several blankets. His cheeks are thick and claim almost half of his entire face, typical for a baby. His stomach evenly vacillates with every small breath.
Kamijou-san sighs contently and gazes at her son for several moments. It is said watching babies sleep provides somber relaxation to the observer, and Kamijou-san definitely agrees with that statement. She could spend hours watching her newborn baby, Hiroki, doze.
Suddenly the delicate tranquility is shattered when a low rumble of thunder sounds outside. Within seconds, rain begins pouring out of the sky. Another clap of thunder triggers. Instantly, Hiroki is awake and wailing. As she scoops her son up to cuddle in her arms, Kamijou-san glares with dismay at the rainstorm from outside the nursery window, cursing the weather for inconsiderately waking her precious baby boy.
-.-.-.-
"I thought I was gonna have a sister," Hiroki repeats. He speaks with a slight lisp, having just lost both of his upper right front teeth from falling on the playground a few days ago.
Immediately, Kamijou-san bursts into tears. She attempts to secret her sobs by cupping her face into her palms. Hiroki watched tears slip down the curve of her hand, and then drop onto her lap. Seeing his mother cry like this upsets Hiroki even more so.
"Hiroki, please," his father retorts through clenched teeth, his hand resting wearily on his wife's shoulder. "Please, don't speak of it any more." He shakes his head repeatedly, his own eyes bordered by unshed tears.
"B—but, you said that I was gonna have a little sister," Hiroki protests. "You said we were gonna buy her new clothes and toys and—" Hiroki pauses on his tangent. "Your belly is still big! Isn't my little sister in there?"
His father opens his mouth to reprimand him once more for mentioning the miscarriage, when Kamijou-san interrupts him. "Hiro-chan," she says. Even though her voice is raspy and shaky from weeping, she somehow manages to keep that tender tone to it. "Your sister—" she pauses, attempting how to explain the situation. Eventually, she decides to simply give up. "Your sister will not be coming."
Hiroki turns from his mother to his father, and seeing their miserable expressions, he wants to run away, fast. So he dashes outside to the front pathway. The sky is a measly pale gray. He glares at the vast horizon, as if it should be blamed for the lost of his unborn sister. As he glowers, his eyes suddenly become wet. He lowers his glance to see small dots of water splattered across his shirt, and realizes that it has begun to drizzle. As the drizzle rapidly transforms into a steady downpour, Hiroki glances back at his parents through the window. They are not facing him, and hold each other stiffly. Normally when it rains, Kamijou-san hurriedly tells Hiroki to come inside. However, now she does not budge from her seat, fully aware that he only child is getting soaked.
This bothers Hiroki—that his mother will not come to usher him inside. He petulantly waits for her. Still, she stays inside.
-.-.-.-
"What?" Hiroki reiterates for the third time in the past thirty seconds.
Akihiko knowingly rolls his eyes at his friend. "I told you, I like Takahiro." When he sees the rigid scowl his friend sports, he frowns as well. "What? What's the problem? Does it bother you that I like a guy or something?"
"No." Hiroki states aggressively, his fists clutching tighter around his backpack straps. "You know that it wouldn't bother me, of all people."
"Then why are you looking at me like that?"
Hiroki's visage slowly abates in bitterness. He gazes at Akihiko, mouth firmly plastered shut. Because I like you.
Despite how Hiroki aches to release that thought, he knows that it will remained secreted for quite some time, possibly forever.
The silence between the two preteens agonizingly continues, until a rumble of thunder shatters it from above. Akihiko turns away from his friend to fetch his umbrella from the pocket in his backpack. He clicks the switch and it flips open promptly as a drizzle commences.
Hiroki's countenance has not moved, since. He appears solemn, rather than angry.
"Don't you have an umbrella?" Akihiko asks him.
When he receives no response, Akihiko sighs. "Hiroki…"
"No," his companion finally replies. "I don't have an umbrella."
"Do you want to share mine with me?" Akihiko motions for his friend to move underneath the plastic parasol.
"I have to go home." Hiroki mumbles. "I have a piano lesson in fifteen minutes. I can't fool around and be late."
Before he has a chance to reply, Akihiko watches his friend dart away through the rainfall.
-.-.-.-
"I'm calling to inquire about an alumnus of yours, Kusama Nowaki," Hiroki informs the secretary of the orphanage. The desperation in his voice is evident, and he can barely keep from stuttering over his own words. "I'm an acquaintance of his, but I have not been able to contact him for the last few days. I was a little concerned…"
"Oh! Kusama-kun," the secretary fondly recalls his name. "He's always been one of our most generous contributors."
"Un…Anyway, I called to inquire whether you knew anything of his whereabouts," Hiroki anxiously says.
"Well, let me see." The shuffling of papers can be heard as the secretary rifles through files. "Ah…It says here that he recently departed to America, to study pediatrics and medicine practice. Their medical studies are very far advanced compared to ours, you know."
Hiroki is in utter shock. His mouth is agape. He is speechless.
On the other end of the line, the secretary hears nothing. "Sir? Are you still there? Sir?"
"D-did you—" Hiroki gulps and tries again. "Did you say America?"
The secretary uneasily answers. "Yes, sir, I did." She becomes concerned when she hears Hiroki's breathing become slightly rushed. "Are you alright, sir? If you would like, I have the hospital and the classes listed—"
"No—" Hiroki interrupts her and takes a moment to compose himself for the remainder of the conversation. If Nowaki wanted me to know this information, he would've told me. Although his head is teeming with questions, Hiroki's petulant pride refrains them from being asked. "That's quite all right. Thank you."
And he hangs up.
The rainstorm occurring outside seems appropriate. As Hiroki miserably watches the downpour outside, Hiroki cannot decide which falls faster: the rain or his tears.
-.-.-.-
A raindrop appears on Hiroki's cell phone screen and he quickly stuffs in into his pocket. It is almost nine o' clock.
I gave that bastard two hours to redeem himself. Two fucking goddamn hours. And he still didn't bother to show up. Typical Nowaki.
He reluctantly stands up for the first time in three hours as the drizzle turns into a steady rainfall, and within seconds, a downpour.
As he walks away, absolutely heartbroken and already drenched, a thought enters his head. During nearly every traumatic event in my lifetime, it has rained. Such an idea leaves him even more depressed as he heads to Mitsuhashi University to dry off. Am I really cursed by the natural element of rain?
The walk allows him time to brood over his newfound abhorrence of rain. If that is the case, of course it would rain on tonight of all nights—maybe the worst night of my life.
Harping on thoughts of Nowaki's abandonment and selfishness permit Hiroki to conclude at least one stable decision in his life: I hate rain.
-.-.-.-
Less then two hours later, the soothing sound of raindrops splattering on the windowpanes of the college library calms Hiroki almost as much as the feeling of Nowaki's lips tangling with his own.
Two fucking goddamn hours. In less than two fucking goddamn hours, that bastard has redeemed himself. Hiroki cannot help feeling spectacularly relieved by this thought.
As Nowaki kisses him once more, a kiss more passionate than one he has ever received in the past six years, Hiroki cannot help but think, I love rain. And if that is the case, of course it would rain on tonight of all nights—possibly the best night of my life.