Yu Yu Hakusho is not mine.
It's raining. The rain is my muse.
1) Longest fall.
Rain. Slow and steady it fell.
Down. Plummeting through the trees.
It caught on leaves and pooled. When the pools weighed the leaf down the leaf bent its head as if exasperated. Like sweat from its brow the bead of water fell. The steady motion of weighing and bending continued through the canopy.
Then, like a random clearing on a cloudy day, the canopy ended and there was just open space beneath it. Now was their longest fall. Each one, after being coddled and held by thirsty, grateful leaves, was dropping to a parched ground. Each bit of water of the sky knew that soon, seconds, it was the end of a journey and the start of a new trend of being fodder and then being reborn again to the sky.
There was something in their way though. Someone was lying there, in that clear space. Someone was soaking up all the cold rain. Instead of being eaten by the ground, they lit upon cold skin and pooled turning red. They fell to damp clothes, beaded and then soaked in caught in the net of closely woven fabric. They fell into crimson hair and became entangled in the strands and locks.
Below this body, the earth cried for the rain and mourned each drop it was denied.
.:Ok, in order to move on I need three reviews and then you get the next chapter!:.