Cool Blue

She was standing there in the pouring rain, fingers wrapped white around the handle of her umbrella. Her silhouette was dim, pale and small amongst the towering park trees. He twisted his bag around his wrist and sprinted across the empty street to meet her.

"You didn't have to wait for me," Len said, as she tilted her head back to meet him, raising her umbrella over his head.

"It's fine," Rin said. The sleeves of her sweater were soaked wet, along with her shoes and the ends of her jeans. "I've nothing better to do."

He stepped in closer to escape the rain, wiping a drop of water from his brow, and they set off down the path towards his house. "I don't mind a little bit of rain."

She eyed him. "I don't want you catching a cold, either, though."

"But to walk me home all the way, isn't that just a waste of time?"

Rin opened her mouth to say something, looking like she wanted to deny the statement. But instead, she simply just snapped it shut and settled on a sigh.

He took the umbrella silently, giving her arm a rest. Back when they were in school, they'd make this trek in the late afternoons, stopping in at the convenience store to grab ice-creams before heading to his house. Rin would spend the afternoon stretched out on his bedroom floor, sketching instead of doing homework, while he had his nose buried in textbooks.

They were complete opposites of habit, starkly different personalities. She was always loud and mischievous, dark. He was studious and calm, light. Everyone who knew them made the observation; despite their contrasts, they were inseparable.

They went on to study different things. Rin had an interest in the arts. Len was a science major. Their schedules often barely coincided, but this day was one of the rare occasions. And this day, just happened to be cursed with a surprise torrential downpour.

Normally, Len would've been prepared, had he not been rushing that morning to make a mid-semester exam. It was just so lucky that Rin had stayed after her class that day to finish off a major project, when they ran into each other at one of the college entrances on their way home.

She offered to walk him home with the umbrella, he insisted he would be fine until the convenience store. She stayed put. (And just so coincidentally, the convenience store was out of umbrellas, so it wasn't like he could get away with it.)

It wasn't that Len didn't like Rin; of course he liked her—he loved her, even. But there was this awkward distance between them that had emerged after they began their new lives at college. And it seemed that they, their lives, were starting to drift further and further apart.

It was unsettling, a little sad, just didn't feel the way things did when they were kids.

He didn't want to say that, though. He figured those thoughts were best kept to himself.

When they reached his home, he couldn't help but take one look at Rin drenched to the bone from bottoms down and feel guilt. "You want to come in and dry off a bit?" he asked, as he fumbled for his door keys.

She looked down at her feet. "If you don't mind."

"Of course not."

They filed into the house, significantly drier and warmer than outside. His mother was humming quietly in the kitchen. His father was probably still working.

"I'm home!" he called, and his mother responded with, "Welcome back!" in a beat.

They left their wet shoes and socks by the door, before stepping up into the main hall. Len ducked into the kitchen to greet his mother, cutting up vegetables for dinner.

"Rin's here," he told her. "She lent me her umbrella on the way home. Is it alright if she stays a bit to dry off?"

The mention of Rin made the woman smile. She'd always had a fondness for her, like she was her own daughter.

"She can stay as long as she likes," she said, eyes steady on her hands. "I'm sure I've got enough for her to join us for dinner, too, if she wants to have some white stew."

Len mentioned the thought to Rin when he found her again, standing awkwardly down the hall looking like she was lost.

"I… shouldn't impose too much," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. It had grown from chin-length to her shoulders, a look that was a little unusual for her. She'd always kept a particularly short hairstyle in their years at school. This new style was a lot more... feminine on her.

He lifted a brow. "You sure? Mum's always keen to have you over."

Rin laughed. "Yeah. It's fine."

He tried to brush off the cold feeling of rejection. Usually, the girl he knew would never reject a chance for free food. Had they really changed that much within a year?

Then he took notice of her soggy clothes and led her into his room. "I'll give you a change of clothes and stick your stuff in the bathroom to dry, at least. Since you came all this way."

As he dug through his drawers for something that would suffice, she shook her head, golden hair bouncing. "It's fine. They're only going to get wet again anyway."

Len paused to give her a solemn look, frustrated with her politeness. "I insist."

At that, she let up a little, shoulders sagging. "Okay."

After handing her a towel, some old sweatpants and a t-shirt, she padded off to the bathroom to get changed. While waiting, he changed into a dry pair of pants and sank down onto his bed. He glanced at her backpack, discarded by the doorway. It also looked pretty well wet.

He pointed out that observation when she returned in his clothes; she looked lost in the t-shirt, and the sweatpants were pooled around her ankles. They used to be around the same height—but maybe it had been years since that time.

Rin palmed off her wet clothes to him, before kneeling by her bag to check the state of her belongings inside. "It should be okay, I mean, I just have a sketchbook for class in here but… whatever." She pulled out said book, scanning it, taking note of the slight water damage at the top.

"Don't you need to hand that in for assessment?" he asked, recalling earlier conversations where she had complained about the system.

She shrugged. "It's fine. Most of our sketchbooks get so beaten by the end of the semester."

"Oh." He followed her actions as she slipped it back into her backpack.

She met his eyes and raised an eyebrow questioningly. "You want to look at it?"

Len cleared his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "I— no , it's fine. I'm just being nosy."

"You can have a look if you want," she said, waving her hand dismissively at her bag. Usually she was much more protective of her sketches, making a big deal about having to show anyone, but she'd grown numb to the humiliation after having to give all her artwork in for assessment.

Curiosity got the better of him, but he tried not to look overly pleased about the offer, swallowing hard. He held up the clothes in his hands. "I'll have a look once I pop these up to dry."

Her eyes followed him out of the room, and he took his time hanging the clothes and fiddling with the fan panel. It was strange having Rin there, in his home again, after so many months had passed without barely even seeing her. In a way, it was like she was a stranger coming to visit for the first time.

But she wasn't. They'd run up and down the halls of his home many times as kids, stayed up all night eating popcorn and watching scary movies, whispered in jokes at the dinner table. He paused just outside his bedroom on his way back, his heart beating loud in his ears.

He didn't know why he felt so nervous, so odd. Was it really so different to a year or so ago?

What had changed between them?

Len shook the thoughts from his mind and entered his bedroom. Rin was sitting cross-legged on his floor, scrolling through some social media feed on her phone with a blank expression. She tucked it away when she noticed he was back, though.

Uncertain, he knelt on the floor opposite of her, and she pulled out her sketchbook again and handed it over to him. He carefully opened it up to the first page.

As expected, it was filled to the brim with things; sketches, of course, but also experiments, paint tests, palettes, landscapes, portraits, oil pastel drawings and so on. It was all an array of colours and illustrations, but everything was just so distinctly Rin. Unique and beautiful, nothing less than he would expect from her.

He always knew she was talented; he'd seen her paintings and drawings over the years, she'd even given him art for a few of his birthdays. But this sketchbook was arranged in such a way it showed her thoughts, her progress of creation. It seemed a lot more intimate than any other piece of work she'd shown him.

Rin had been watching him look through the book the whole time. He looked up at her in silent awe as he closed the sketchbook and handed it back to her.

"It's… really good," he said, words failing him at the worst time.

She put it away and tucked her legs up to her chest. "It's not, really." A sigh came from her lips as she leaned forward to rest her chin on her knees. "My tutors are always grating me for not being experimental enough. Saying I always stick to the same boring formula, and that isn't going to get me anywhere after I graduate."

Len frowned. "But what you're doing is great, though," he protested. "If it isn't broken, why fix it?"

"My art is too plain , Len," she said. "It has no wow factor or anything that sets it apart from the rest. My tutors know that it's going to get me nowhere. I just… I don't know what to do."

She seemed tired, and maybe it was the first time that day that he noticed how dull she looked. Huddled up on the floor of his bedroom, she was small and fragile-looking, as if she would shatter at any moment.

He sat back. "I disagree."

Rin responded with a look of annoyance.

"You don't have to believe me," he said, lifting his head to the ceiling. "But you know, I've seen your art grow and develop. And no matter what, there's always something so distinctly, uniquely Rin about it. I could see it on a billboard in the middle of Shibuya and I would know. I would know it's yours. There's just something… special about it. I dunno."

She picked at the carpet by her feet. "You're just saying this because you're my friend."

He exhaled, exasperated, and gave her a look. "Jesus, Rin, learn how to take a compliment."

It came out so fast he couldn't stop himself to think about it first. He was just frustrated; for her, by her. Of course, it came out sounding harsher than expected. It seemed out of place, uncalled for. Maybe they'd say such a thing to one another two years ago—but now, it just didn't feel right.

But she didn't respond so horribly as he anticipated. Her eyes fluttered, and she looked away to the side. Maybe she was trying to hide tears, or something, he didn't know. She mumbled into her knee, "You're right. I'm sorry."

Len scrambled to take his words back. "No, no, I shouldn't have said that. It was unnecessary." He got to his knees, motioning to fix the damage. "I'm sorry—"

"Len." Rin looked back at him, halting him in place. She gave him a watery smile. "You don't need to apologise for saying the truth."

He faltered. "Even so, I… overstepped boundaries."

She cocked her head at him. "Boundaries? What boundaries?"

It seemed to be going downhill so fast. Why was his mouth going off before his brain could? First time in months they speak, and he fucks it up so bad it might as well be the last.

"Um," he fumbled for words. "You know, just, social boundaries, um…"

He was pathetic.

She squinted at him and sniffled, wiping her nose. "We've been friends for years, Len," she said. "I don't think we've ever had to worry about 'social boundaries' or whatever before. Why is this suddenly becoming a concern to you now?"

He slumped over, defeated by the question. She was right. "I don't know. It's just been a while since we talked like this. I'm just… overthinking things a little."

It was silent for several minutes, so he glanced up to see her expression. She was thinking, her gaze set on the bed behind him. "I guess you're right," she said, eventually. "It has been a while." Then she looked at him, a worried furrow to her brows. "We are still friends, right?"

"Of course we are," he responded automatically. No part of him would ever want to deny their friendship, no matter what had changed.

Rin was important to him. She was incredibly important to him.

"Good," she said, her voice soft.

They sat in silence for a while. It had become a little awkward between them, or at least, that was how Len felt.

Eventually, Rin began moving—it looked like she was packing herself up, standing. Then she asked, "My clothes should be dry now, right?"

He stood with her, hand darting out to grab her sleeve. "You should stay," he blurted.

He then looked surprised. So did she.

She opened her mouth, looking as if she was about to deny, but he cut in quickly to add, "At least stay for dinner. Please?"

Her lips thinned as she thought, eyes darting over his face. Why he wanted her to stay longer, he didn't know; but there was something familiar and warm about having her here, about being with her again, and he missed it so much. He missed that feeling so much.

Rin fiddled with her nails. "Okay," she said in a small voice.

Len searched her face, tried to read her thoughts. His heart squeezed. "I mean, if you have things you have to do, that's okay too, I just, um—"

Before he could make a fool of himself any more, her hand lashed out and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, pulling him close to her. She didn't give him much time to process what was happening before her soft lips were on his; warm, sending a shockwave through his body.

He froze on the spot, not knowing how to respond or what to do next. Honestly, he hadn't been expecting that move. And if he had , well, the preceding events wouldn't have happened.

Rin pulled away almost immediately, as if he were on fire, her cheeks the shade of beetroot. She had already thrown her backpack over her shoulder and escaped from his room before he could even process what had just happened.

Then it all came crashing down.

Len jumped up off the floor and ran after her. She'd already run out the front door, slipping her soaked sneakers on bare feet , leaving her socks discarded on the ground of the entryway. Thankfully she'd grabbed the umbrella.

"Len—" his mother began, appearing in the hall from the kitchen, but he was already out the door, chasing after his run away friend.

Run away… friend.

Hmm.

Thankfully she didn't make it far before he found her. He caught her on the pavement out front of their house, and she avoided his gaze like the plague, her ears burning red.

His hand slipped off her shoulder, and he expected her to speak—to explain what just happened , but she pressed her lips together and clammed up completely.

"Rin," he tried, but she was completely unresponsive.

He didn't know whether it was intentional or not. Whether it meant anything. He was a science kid, he didn't know romance. When his childhood friend just kisses him out of the blue, what is he supposed to do?

Len was already soaked through again; the rain was still coming down hard. He needed to get her back inside, sort this out. Something, anything.

So he said, "You can't just kiss me and run off."

For a passing moment, she was silent, wouldn't budge. The gears in her head were turning. Then she responded with, "Who said I can't?"

"Me," he said. "You know, the guy you kissed."

Her lips twitched at a thought, her fingers tightened around the handle of her umbrella. "So?"

"So…" Len studied her face, as she actively tried avoiding his eyes. His mind had 101 questions. He didn't know where to start. But even if he were to start somewhere, he would have to open Rin up first. He knew that much.

When he said he loved her, it wasn't a joke. She had always been someone close to his heart, someone he cared for, so much so that it hurt when they grew distant from each other. It wasn't desperation, but a longing for. She was, essentially, a piece of him. And it felt odd not having her there always by his side.

He didn't want to let her go again.

Before he could even think rationally about what he was doing, he had his hands on her shoulders, pulling her in. His mouth crashed against hers, and she melted against him, and the umbrella above her head disappeared and became the heavy rain.

She was something gentle and familiar, comfortable, and he wondered why the hell they hadn't done this sooner.

When they broke apart, Rin was red down to her neck, and she looked everywhere but his face. Len's head was filled with clay, and all he could feel was the tingle she left behind on his lips.

"Let's go back inside," he said, taking note of the fact that they were both completely drenched.

She nodded, dazed, and he slid his hand into hers as they walked back to his front door.

His mother was waiting in the hallway, but didn't question the looks on their faces or the fact that they looked like drowned rats. She just smiled knowingly and ducked back into the kitchen.

"I'm sorry," was all Rin could say, as they sat in the bathroom across from each other, under the hot air blasting from the fan.

"Why?" Len asked, not even trying to mask his surprise.

"I'm an idiot," she said down to her knees. "I kiss you on impulse and run away. Where's that tough girl Rin who never cared about anything from high school? She feels like a different person."

He gazed at the top of her head. "I don't know." He leaned back, stretching out his legs, his toes brushing her thigh. "If I were tough girl Rin, I'd run away too."

She laughed, but shook her head. "No. It would be more like, you're the one running away, and I'm the one chasing you ."

"Is that so bad?"

"What?"

"Me chasing you instead," he said.

Rin reached up to run her fingers through her hair. "No, but…" She paused. "I could've handled it all a lot better."

He smiled, thinking that it was so Rin of her to criticise herself like this. To pick herself apart. "Well, why don't you try it again?" he asked.

Finally, she looked up to meet his gaze, heat rising to her cheeks. She sucked in her bottom lip and rolled her eyes, fiddling with a loose thread on his sweatpants. "You're just saying that because you want me to kiss you again."

Len snorted. "Uh, yeah. No duh."

"Stupid. You aren't supposed to admit that," she said, but she was grinning.

He just shrugged. "Who said I can't?"

"Ugh," she scoffed, throwing her head, before climbing onto her knees and crawling over. "Get under me and shut up."

Before he could give a smart response, she was sliding onto his lap and clasping his head between her hands. Then they were kissing again, and again, and again.

title taken from the same-named song by The Japanese House.