"Matoba."
"Like you were expecting me." Why does he always sound so smug.
"It's not my problem you keep turning up wherever I go."
"Rest assured, it's complete coincidence, Natori. But you can be flattered, if you'd like."
Natori spins the thought in his mind.
"I do not like."
"Oh yes?"
As charmed as a cat with cream, this guy. Natori schools his expression back to neutral.
Lightning and thunder rattle the old bus station. Natori's teeth buzz.
"And you wonder why I ducked in here with you."
Matoba sits down next to him, one leg carelessly crossed over the other like he's at his favorite café.
The parasol is propped against the bench at his side.
"So it would stand to reason,"—unthinkingly as he always gets around Matoba—"that a storm is stronger than that monster."
"I do not make a habit of going out in the rain."
"The rain does not care about that. I don't think the monster does either."
A beat punctuated with a clap of thunder.
Then Matoba laughs and Natori is brought back to their younger days. Always something to laugh about with Matoba Seiji, even when there is not.
"Maybe you're right." He stands up and snaps open the parasol. "Shall we see?"
Absolute tatters. Matoba takes it in stride and tucks himself under Natori's umbrella without asking.
The sky has lightened up and the rain is the pleasant sort now. Blurring Natori's peripheral vision, he is almost able to forget that Matoba's there at his side.
Almost.