Hinata tapped her pen on her date book, flipping the page ahead to look at the circle with red ink. She only had two months left. She laid her head down on the page and glanced out the window at the dark rain. There was a light post across the street that flickered. She held the pen up in her eye line, imagining it as a person standing under the light. Tall and dark unfazed by the rain. When she pulled the pen down, she blinked because there was really a man there.
Hinata flinched her face into her date book. She didn't want to think how long she was staring out there before she noticed him.
How did she not see him?
Hinata peeked. He was gone. She puffed out a breath and patted her cheeks. She was so embarrassed.
She tipped her date book into her bag and waved at the café owner as she stepped out the door. She waited hours, but the rain hadn't stopped. She held her hand out to feel the rain. She didn't even have an umbrella.
Hinata stepped out onto the dark street with a splash into the wet street. Her hair and clothes would be drenched when she got home, but that was okay. She liked the rain.
As she walked, Hinata looked up at the sky, letting the drops fall on her face.
It was like the sky was crying, so she didn't have to.
Across the street, under the lamp post, was empty, but she still imagined a man there, in a dark coat with his hands in his pockets, waiting for something. What was he waiting for? A ride? A friend? A lover? He should find cover. He would catch a cold.
Hinata started walking up the street as her hair and coat slowly filled with water. There was no reason to run. It would only make her out of breath as well as wet. Was it ironic that she was going to wash off the rain with more water when she got home?
She realized she left the washing out on the line again as she watched the pavement slowly moving under her feet. She should have moved it inside this morning, but she didn't. She would need to rewash it. Tomorrow. It wasn't like anyone would scold her for leaving it until then.
As she came to a crosswalk, she raised her head to check the street. Even with no one there, her mind always watches a car rush by, sending a poor unexpecting pedestrian rolling over the hood. Morbid, terrifying, but boring when you thought it every time.
The streets were empty, late, and cold. The streetlamps buzzing couldn't be heard over the patter of rain hitting on every surface. One drop would barely be noticeable, but thousands made a roar that blocked out even her footsteps against the pavement.
Stairs always felt longer and steeper on the way home. Like you were trekking up a mountain at the end of the day. But it only felt that way.
Sometimes it was punishment. Deserved punishment.
Hinata deserved to get caught in the rain as punishment for not bringing an umbrella. It didn't matter if the forecast predicted a dry day. She should have had one anyway. Punishment for stopping at the café for a cup of coffee instead of going home.
Punishment for…
Hinata stopped at her front door and stood in the rain for a movement longer. She deserved to be wet and cold for a little longer. One… two… three… Okay.
Hinata dug out her keys and opened the door to the dark. "I'm home." She whispered to no one as she kicked off her shoes and hung up her soaked coat. She took a moment to wipe the water from her bag before padding across to the bathroom.
In the mirror was the monster that she didn't like to look at, so she didn't. She turned on the water and waited for it to get hot while she crouched, watching it pour down the drain. When it was warm enough, she peeled off her clothes and sat to drown in more water.
Warmed through, Hinata dried her hair and sat on her bed. The clothes she didn't bring in were out the window on the balcony. She sighed and laid her head down on her pillow, mushing her face into it.
Why was the man under the streetlamp alone?
Hinata stopped in her tracks and looked over her shoulder.
Nothing was there. She could have sworn…
Would the feeling go away? It didn't. She looked back again. Maybe someone was looking out their window… or…
Hinata shook off the feeling. It was a bright day with a gentle cold breeze, cars drove past her on the busy street, and kids laughed in the park across the road. There was nothing ominous about it. Why did she feel like she was on a dark backstreet? She shook her head and continued on her way, but the feeling dragged behind her as she went.
She opened the door to the shop and was startled as an explosion rang in her ears.
Poppers were shot in the air raining streamers down. "Happy Birthday!"
Hinata put a hand over her heart. Kiba and Shino each respectively held a popper, one with a bright smile and the other with his usual soft, down, turned, content face. "Guys…" Hinata whimpered.
"Let us celebrate." Kiba reached behind him to hold out a decorative box with a colorful cupcake and a candle sticking out.
Hinata stuck out her lip in a pout.
"At least make a wish?" Kiba asked.
"I wish you wouldn't celebrate my birthday." Hinata dropped her bag.
Shino picked up the bits of paper that came out of the poppers. "I couldn't stop him."
"You participated." Hinata accused.
Shino shrugged, tossing the bits away.
Kiba handed her the cupcake and clapped. "Well, let's have a great day."
The candle burnt down as Hinata stared at it. She didn't make wishes anymore.
Shino slid behind the counter to straighten merchandise. He was uncomfortable, filling his hands with something to do. Hinata opened the cupcake to eat it so that it would disappear and couldn't make any of them uncomfortable anymore. With a full mouth, she discarded the box and the candle, smearing away any frosting and crumbs with her fingers to hide the evidence that it ever existed.
Hinata brushed off her hands and put on her apron, pulling out her hair and tying the strap tight to her waist. She crouched down to Akumaru, happily sprawled out in the sun coming in the front floor-to-ceiling windows out to the street. Her hands disappeared into the warm fur, and as she brushed her finger through it, small tufts danced free, illuminated by the streaming light. "You need brushed, buddy."
Akumaru only made a noise as he got more comfortable readjusting his head. At least someone in the world had a purely happy existence. Who was happier than a healthy dog laying in the sun while the rest of the world had to work? Hinata smiled and gave him a last pat as she curled her arms around her knees and looked out across the street.
People rushed off to work, obvious to her watching from the shop window. No one could really be sure how many eyes were on them at any point during the day, could they?
Hinata's eyebrows twitched together as her eyes stopped on a tall man in a long back coat. Her light-post man was back. Was he in her imagination this time? Akumaru tossed his head up as the door opened. Hinata greeted their first customer of the day before taking one last look out the window as she stood up and brushed off the fur. Light-post-man must have been in her head. He was gone again.
Hinata felt the breeze become cold as she walked home. Now it was dark, quiet, and empty. Her footsteps and the far-off sound of cars were loud in all this silence. She shifted her eyes at herself in the windows of the closed shops as she passed them. In her reflection, she wondered if, one day, the boys would see her as all the others had. A monster.
Hinata trekked up the stairs once more. She flipped through her keys. When she reached the top, she put the keys in the lock, but it didn't turn. Hinata pressed her face against the door frame. It was a bad enough day. "Please." She tried again, and it clicked.
The universe was going to be nice to her today.
Was this moment her birthday present? She slipped out of her shoes and dropped her bag. The coat she wore yesterday was still soaked through. Oh, she still needed to rewash the hanging clothes. Hinata pressed on to pull them off the line and put them back in the washing machine. A couple of beeps rang through her quiet apartment before the low mechanical hum of the engine, joined by a rhythmic rattling. Old machine, but it still worked.
Hinata padded to her kitchen to the fridge, pulling out day-old rice and soup. She debated eating it cold because she was hungry but took the time to heat it up even though it would make more dishes. A few bites stuffed into her mouth, and a tear ran down her face. She dropped her spoon and chewed.
Kiba meant well.
Not everyone's birthday reminded them of the worst day of their lives.
Some people enjoyed the idea of birthdays. Some celebrated other people's birthdays. Hinata did neither. They would learn to let it go or make the mistake of asking.
Hinata peered across the apartment to the one picture frame sitting on a table shrouded in a white tablecloth. She picked up her spoon and shoveled her dinner into her mouth. She still had somewhere to be today. Hinata dumped her dishes in the sink. They could wait. No, she should have a clean house today. Hinata sighed, turning on the water. She didn't deserve to put it off today.
Dishes drying on the rack, Hinata flicked her hands off. Padding back across to her closest, pulling out a black dress that waited for this day every year. Hinata paused before taking it off the hanger, sliding her finger over a loose thread at the hem. Hinata sighed, laying the dress out and digging for her sewing kit.
Out came a needle, and with a few tries, it was threaded on the loose strand and pushed through the back of the fabric. She rubbed her finger over the mend turning the material over. A simple snag. It didn't need to be rehemmed yet.
Hinata dropped the needle back into her kit and tucked it away, giving the dress a few brushes of her hand before setting to work to put it on. It still fit. There was always a chance that one year it wouldn't.
Hinata collected a pair of black shoes and a coat and returned to the door. "I'm going out," Hinata called back as she put her shoes on. The only reply she got was the continued racket the washer was making.
Hinata closed the door behind her and turned the lock. These shoes were uncomfortable, and the coat was too light for the cold wind, but that was fine. On her way, Hinata stopped at a flower shop and realized she should have ordered ahead. No irises, alright, second best will have to do. Tiger lilies. A big bunch to make up for it only being second best, but it wasn't like Hanabi wasn't used to disappointments.
Another stop at a fruit stand and picked up a bunch of green bananas and a good ripe melon. Arms full, she took the train out of the city. People didn't have to guess where she was going, so she was avoided. Convenient, she didn't want to talk to anyone today.
Off the train, onto a bus, and she was finally there. A sprawling, green, manicured field filled with lines of stones with etching chipped in. Hinata walked down the lane until she came to the one she came for. Hinata laid the bouquet of flowers on the grave. "Sorry, no irises this year." Hinata whispered. "But bananas, wait until they are ripe." Hinata set them bananas down. "And look, I found a really nice melon. It'll be sweet." Hinata tapped the melon a few times to show the sound it made before setting it with the rest.
Hinata crouched down to the grave's level. "It doesn't look like dad visited you this year. Or does he come after me and swipe everything away because he knows it comes from me?"
Hanabi's name sat silently carved into the stone as Hinata spoke to it. This was what you were supposed to do, right? Talk to them like they could hear. Maybe someone was listening. Someone was listening to her that day. Hinata learned her lesson. Only speak words that you were okay with happening.
Alone in the cold breeze, Hinata imagined a companion, so she didn't feel so alone at this moment, sitting in front of her sister's grave. Someone standing silently, solemnly waiting for her, just there a few graves down to give her space and pretend not to hear her. Hinata rested her head to the side to look at the lamp-post-man in the long black coat. He was dressed for the dead too…
Hinata blinked, and he was gone.
Goodbye, lamp-post-man.
Hinata stayed there until her fingers were stiff, and her shivering got too distracting to think. "I'm sorry." Hinata finally told the stone. "I'll be back." She promised as she stood up. Her knees protested, and only now did she realize how flat these shoes were.
Hinata ignored her stiff joints as she walked back, paying for it by stumbling and falling thankfully into the grass and not one of the headstones. Hinata winced and looked back at her sister's grave. Did her sister trip her or save her from bashing her head?
Did Hinata deserve even to think her sister would help her? But Hanabi wasn't so spiteful to trip her. Even if her sister hated her, Hanabi wouldn't waste her time making Hinata's life miserable. Hinata could do that on her own.
Hinata waited the moment she should have before for the blood to make its way back through her before she got up and brushed herself off. She gave her sister another bow of her head before attempting to leave again. Maybe if lamp-post-man were here, he would have caught her.
Hinata paused at the end of the row, looking back. Why did she keep thinking about him? Was she so lonely that she had to make up someone to keep her company? The answer was yes, but that didn't make it something she should do.
Hinata's eyes glazed over at the field planted with stones and saw him again standing by her sister's grave, crouched down to have a look. At least Hanabi had another visitor, if only in spirit.