Rain. It's the season for that now. I'm not surprised to wake to it. I'm not surprised when I walk to school in it. I'm not surprised when the subtle drumming hums in my ears as I lay awake in my bed. It's been no different for the last few months. Rain. Rain. Rain.

I used to love the rain. I loved the smell of the wet concrete, the cool damp air as it filled my lungs, and the occasional puddle splashing on near-by-innocent-victim, usually named Mochida.

But now, I dread it. The gloom of the sickly green skies strikes terror into me. The pattering of the falling drops prevents my eyes from shutting at night. And when my sight deceives me, as it often does now, I can see the corpses... bones shimmering in the falling water.

I haven't forgotten. None of us have. It's only been three months, but, I couldn't see us "forgetting" for the rest of our lives. All we can do is move on. We have to; we really don't have a choice.

We have different ways of dealing with it.

Mochida hasn't changed too much; he's still the chivalrous sweet heart I knew before, but there's distance there now. He's alone more often than before, and when he is, he's always in thought. What he thinks about I can never tell; probably about the others. Maybe he believes that if he does, they won't disappear, like they have to everyone else.

Yuka is much more than distant. She's almost entirely withdrawn. She hardly ever speaks when I see her, staying as close to Mochida-kun as possible, and simply watching, with large frightened eyes. Her friends have talked to me in passing. They worry for her, for she hardly talks to them; instead, she stares down at the floor, afraid to meet their eyes. I pity her more than the others. Her innocence was ruined completely in one night; Instead of the bright possibilities of a child's imagination, all her eyes can see now are the demons, hiding behind every corner, bout to pounce and drag her back.

Nakashima suffers from the same silence, not of fear, but of sorrow. The loss of Shinohara-san is something she is still trying to cope with, and from time to time, when I see her coming back from the bathroom after lunch, her eyes are swollen red and her breathing is shaky. The only person she talks to anymore is Mochida, who tries his best to coax her out of her bubble, but I think everyone knows that even if she goes back to being her old self, it won't be for some time. She tries, we can see that. Occasionally I will be talking to one of the other girls in class and she will slowly approach us to try and join in, smiling a bit. It's good to see that.

We all cope. We all get by, if just barely. However, I'm worried about Kishinuma.

He's stopped coming to school.

It's been two weeks since any of us saw or heard from him. It didn't seem like him. Before he left, he seemed to be coping the best of any of us. Yes, he was saddened, any of us could tell from his demeanor, but he didn't let any of that get in the way of his friends. It was almost unusual how attentive he was, checking on Naomi from time to time, teasing Mochida and throwing jokes his way, coming and talking to me when he caught me by myself; He was there for all of us in our darkest hours. And then he just... Disappeared.

And that's why, as the sun is setting and all the others are on their way home after a long after school study session, I have crumpled in my hand a piece of paper, with Kishinuma's address hastily written down, and I am on my way to see him. I'm not sure what to expect; as I get closer and closer to the location, my stomach is doing flips in fearful anticipation. What if this, what if that? After all, it has been two weeks... I tell myself to stop thinking those kinds of things. Kishinuma wouldn't do that...

Then I see his address. I stop in my tracks as my eyes settle on the location. I am standing next to a small apartment complex, consisting of maybe four individual rooms. The door I see is... Slightly ajar. That's... Strange.

And then I see the small window. The curtains are drawn... But a light from inside casts a shadow on the window that I can clearly see from the sidewalk. It's... Rope... Hanging from the ceiling. My heart begins to pound; I feel light headed. I hear myself exhale slowly as my gaze follows the rope down... Down... And then I see... A head. ...No... I stand there. I don't want to believe it... But then I cry out in frantic shock, vision suddenly blurred as I set in motion.

"No!" I run toward the door, tears beginning to run down my cheeks. It couldn't be.