A month had passed since I'd told Nagihiko about my struggles. In more ways than one, he was my lifeline; though the harsh words and fighting of my parents never ceased, and every day was a challenge, Nagihiko was the one who kept my head above water. He was always there to make my days just a little better. He was someone to hold onto.
This day, however, Nagihiko was not in school. I figured he'd come down with something—there was a bug circulating through the school, and a lot of students had been out with it the past few days.
Without Nagihiko there, my day at school didn't go too well. In fact, the day in general hadn't been the best. It was silly to think that his absence was causing my day to be worse; everyone had bad days—today just happened to be worse than others.
When I'd woken up that morning, my parents had already been fighting. The subject was, as usual, something petty that only they could manage to start an argument over—neither of them wanted to be the one to take me to school. They were so caught up in their quarrel that they didn't even notice when I slipped out the front door and disappeared. I left them in dispute over a conflict that no longer existed.
It was raining when I got outside. I wondered if I should go back and ask one of them to drive me to school to avoid walking in the rain—the angry shouting and streams of curse words that flowed audibly through the door washed that idea away like the rain streaming in tiny torrents through the grass. Not even wanting to risk going back into the house for an umbrella, I started toward the school, my head down to keep the large raindrops out of my face.
Not until I was three-quarters of the way to school did I become aware that I had left my bag at home. I considered leaving it, even though I knew that I wouldn't be able to do anything in class without my books. What finally forced me to go back for the forgotten schoolbag was the realization that without the boxed lunch inside, I wouldn't have anything to eat all day.
By the time I'd trudged back to my house, my hair was soaking wet and clinging to my face in little golden ringlets. My uniform wasn't much better, so I tossed it into the clothes-dryer and scampered upstairs to offer some help to my hair. The clock read seven twenty-five. School didn't start until seven-fifty, so I figured I was safe.
After a lot of careful combing and a few furious attacks from the hair-dryer, my golden mop of hair looked presentable enough, and I hurried downstairs to fetch my uniform, ignoring the heated bickering of my parents. The fabric of my uniform was still warm from the heat of the clothes-dryer as I changed back into it. Grabbing my schoolbag and an umbrella, I dashed out the door, letting it slam behind me. My parents didn't notice.
It was impossible to run in my school shoes due to the rain-slick sidewalk under my feet, so I had to make do with a hurried walk as I tried to get to school before I was considered tardy. By the time I got to my classroom, however, it was five minutes after eight. I walked into the classroom quietly and tried to shuffle inconspicuously to my seat, but I caught Nikaidou's eye and he turned to me, irritation evident on his face. "Mashiro-san, would you care to explain why you're fifteen minutes late to class?" he inquired stiffly, as I sat down at my seat.
"My apologies," I said quietly, my tiny voice seeming loud in the silent room. "I got caught in the rain." There were a couple of gasps from the male half of the class, which I ignored completely. Nikaidou just glared; I guessed that he hadn't had his coffee yet this morning.
"See me after class," he said bluntly, and turned back to scribbling on the blackboard. Amu looked at me questioningly from her seat beside me, and I shrugged in response. The rest of class slid by slowly, as if time had somehow been slowed by the gloomy clouds and heavy raindrops that splashed outside the windows. Nikaidou's lesson didn't seem important, and listening to him seemed pointless—even he seemed to be in slow motion today, his words dragged out as if every single one were a challenge.
I looked up, bored with drawing small pictures on my desktop, and glanced around at my classmates. Amu was staring ahead, and anyone would've thought she was paying attention to the lesson if it were not for the blank look in her eyes. Tadase had fallen asleep, his arms folded on his desk, and his chin resting on them. One or two of the other students were taking notes, and some of them were glancing around at the others, like I was doing. The only empty desk was the one Nagihiko usually sat at. He was absent.
Finally, the bell rang and everyone stood up and stretched, except Tadase, who had to be shaken awake by one of the other boys. I looked at Amu, who was waiting for me so that we could to lunch together. "You go ahead," I told her, glancing at Nikaidou's desk. "I'll catch up in a minute." She nodded and left with the other students, who were eager to get out of the stuffy classroom.
I approached Nikaidou's desk, and he turned to me, looking slightly less grumpy than he had before. "So," he said, looking down at me. "Why were you late this morning?"
Rather than tell him the long version of the story, I just repeated what I had when I'd walked in. "I got caught in the rain. My parents couldn't bring me today, so I had to walk." I only hoped he didn't ask why they couldn't bring me.
He pondered for a second or two while I stared at his flaming mess of orangey-red hair. "Alright," he said after a moment. "You've never been late before, so I won't give you a tardy. Just be more careful in the future." I nodded mechanically, and then shuffled out of the room. Amu was waiting for me, though I'd told her to go ahead.
"What'd he say?" She questioned, concern in her eyes. "Did you get in trouble?"
I shook my head. "He just said for it not to happen again," I assured her. "Nothing else." She seemed relieved by this, and began to ramble happily about things I pretended to listen to, nodding my head every few moments and laughing when she laughed. I wasn't really paying too much attention, and suddenly I slipped on the wet floor, falling backward and landing with a painful impact. Today just wasn't my day.
"Rima! Are you alright?" Amu offered her hand to me, and I took it gratefully, making sure I didn't slip again as she helped me up. "You have to be more careful! The floor's wet since everyone's been walking on it after being outside in the rain."
"I'm fine," I assured her, dusting myself off and advancing carefully over the slippery tile surface. "C'mon, it's lunchtime."
The lunch period passed quickly, as usual, with the Guardians chatting happily and the other students making everyday conversation with their friends. Tadase informed me and the rest of the Guardians that there would not be a meeting after school since Nagihiko was absent.
When the bell rang, we went back to our classroom and sat through Nikaidou's horrible blathering until the bell rang for the last time, indicating that we were free of the confinements of the school. I didn't have anything to do, and I didn't want to go home just yet; I wanted to stay out of the way of my conflicting parents as long as possible. I caught Amu on the way out of the school. "Hey, are you free today?" I asked, and she shook her head.
"Sorry, Rima. I told my parents I'd watch Ami today." My bubblegum-haired friend gave a small, apologetic smile. "How about tomorrow?" Dejected, I gave a tiny nod and managed a weak smile.
"See you then." I opened my umbrella and turned in the opposite direction, heading toward my house. The rain hadn't let up at all since that morning—if anything, it had gotten heavier, a torrential downpour from the sullen gray clouds hanging overhead. The low rumbling of thunder echoed ominously in the distance, and I quickened my pace, not wanting to get caught in a storm.
Finally reaching my house, I closed my umbrella and opened the door. Immediately, I was greeted by angry shouts and curses, though they were not directed at me. I kicked off my shoes and dropped the wet umbrella on the floor, scampering up the stairs and into my room, where I changed out of my school uniform and into something more comfortable.
My room was very dark, as if night had fallen; the dark, angry clouds had completely blotted out the sun as they cast their tears over the city. I sat down by the window and stared out at the sky through the rain. The threatening growl of thunder sounded much closer, and as I watched, an angry slash of lightning split the sky, illuminating the darkness for a second before disappearing.
Downstairs, I could hear harsh shouts, accompanied by the sound of things breaking—dishes, most likely. I closed my eyes and buried my head between my knees, trying to block out the sound, but to no avail.
Suddenly a deafening burst of thunder roared outside my window, drowning out every other audible sound. As it started to die away, I smiled to myself. I liked thunder. Was it the sky's way of yelling out its problems to the world, instead of bottling them up? Or maybe, I thought, it was the anger and sadness that people like me locked away and refused to show to others. It had nowhere to go, so it just built up. And the anger and sadness of all those people would keep building up, until the sky just screamed it out for them. That was where thunder came from, I decided.
Maybe rain was all the tears that the people of the world refused to shed. They refused to cry, so the clouds cried for them. Maybe that was why rainy days were always so gloomy and sad. But then, when the thunder died down and the rain stopped, the sun would come out. Maybe there would even be a rainbow. Was that it? Maybe the earth itself was trying to tell us that if we didn't let our sadness build, that if we let ourselves cry once in a while, we would feel better after it was all over. It was a strange way of thinking. But to me, one of those people, it made perfect sense.
Another loud clap of thunder shook the sky, drowning out the shouts of my parents. I smiled again, watching the rain pour from above. A loud, terrified shriek pierced the air, louder than the thunder. My smile faded. Mama?
I stood up quickly, and bolted down the stairs as fast as my short legs could carry me. My parents were not in the living room, where I had seen them earlier. I sprinted into the kitchen and stopped dead.
My father, his features twisted in rage, had my mother brutally pinned against the wall with one arm, refusing to let her move. Clutched in his other fist, aimed at her throat, the cruelly long blade of a kitchen knife. My mother's attention turned immediately to me, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, my eyes wide. She pleaded to me with those eyes; I didn't know whether she was pleading with me to help her or to get away from there as fast as I possibly could. My instincts and my mind were screaming at me to run. I should've listened. I didn't.
I hurled myself at my father, sobbing, pleading for him to let her go. I used all the strength in my petite body to try to pull him away, or to distract him enough so that my mother could break away from him. I could accomplish neither.
Muttering a curse, my father thrust his arm back at me, trying to dislodge me and shove me backward. He only meant to push me away. But I felt the sharp tip of the kitchen knife he wielded dig through my shirt and pierce my skin. I heard the rip of my shirt at the same time that I felt the cruel blade slash across my abdomen. I felt the thick warmth spreading across my belly. My eyes closed, and I saw blackness. I felt nothing.