Broken: Part Nine “It’s Only Rain…”

5/22/00

By: Hikari

Notes: None.

All disclaimers apply.

*****

The city streets are illuminated this afternoon. Roads are highlighted gold, autumn’s dried and fallen leaves brushing against the asphalt. It seems the weather is cooling into rainy temperatures- for the flow of wind was much more brisk. I pass by several schoolgirls, all in halter- tops, who are now fastening their denim and polyester jackets. They look up at the sky, and seeing as it is darkening- retreat for a malt shop around the corner. The yellow streets are presently being swallowed up by dreary and bleak shadows. I correct myself. It WILL rain, and as though I were speaking of the devil himself- acute light flashes, followed latter by low thunder. Around me, the community appears to be in a condition of turmoil. Everyone is rushing for shelter, hastily boarding taxis and buses to get out of the fore coming storm. How abnormal, you would think that they have never witnessed waterfall before…

My old shoes are sodden from the forming puddles, and I can feel my feet chill from the moisture. Cars and other automobiles screech by, emptying the usually lively plaza into a vacant parking lot. The city is deserted; I’m the only one strolling through it. Nothing new, my walks tend to be lonely.

“Oh no! This really blows!” Someone hollers from behind, voice out of breath and apparently frustrated. I turn my head around, and bat my eyelids- several beads of rain trapped in between lashes. In the distance, I can see an all too familiar patch of radiant red hair. The tresses were long and glossy, droplets decorating each and every tip.

It’s Kurama. He’s running in my direction, the scent of fruitful roses drawing nearer and nearer. As his image enlarges, I become aware of the fashion he’s in- textbooks overhead, soaked from bottom to top. Dashing past me, his legs splash at a diminutive lake- so hard that the muddy water made contact with my face. In spite of myself, I grin a little. Why thank-you, I needed a wake-up call from staying-up all night anyhow.

Calmly, I follow him. When he stops at a door, Kurama bangs at it violently, then halts and searches for something in his waterlogged pants. “Cut me some slack today! Don’t tell me I lost my keys too!”

This place must be where Kurama works after school. He told me he was an assistant at a medical-care center. I don’t understand why such a building would be closed now. My friend peeps into the wide window, and his expression suddenly alters into realization. “I forgot! The building is supposed to be locked-up today for internal and external renovation!”

Hn. Answers my question. This building could really use it too. The cement at the doorway was chipped, rust was developing at the keyhole, and the windows were grazed. How idiotic, if someone doesn’t maintain the edifice- there’s no chance that it can survive through another storm like this. What astounds me the most is that a place as poorly kept as this would be found in the richest city of Japan. Then again, this medical center is supposed to be of aid to people who are experiencing momentary financial or insurance problems- keep in mind… ‘supposedly’. Jeez, how can Kurama stand to be caught working in dilapidated facilities? Too much humility… I’m not sure whether to be impressed or revolted.

I hear the sound of slopping material, and take my interest away from the dump.

The redhead slips off his loafers, dispensing two cups worth from each shoe- then reinstating them back on his feet. Damn… Kurama looks like he swam through a tsunami… He wrings his green shirt, literally a quart of water being squeezed out of every stitch of the fabric. His beige slacks practically clung onto his legs- luckily for him there aren’t any girls around. The redhead sighs dejectedly, leaning against the brick wall- reluctantly allowing himself to act like a sponge. The textbooks at his hands are slippery wet, and the pages within them are also wrinkled- adding to the already massive size of the books. Kurama’s palms appear to be straining to expand to the growing width in paper, and the icy temperature wasn’t helping either. His nail beds were turning purple and blue, as were his lips.

“What a day…” He murmurs- eyebrows twitching with annoyance, eyelids on the verge of sinking. “ I was late for school again, I lost my term report, my keys are missing…”

Late again? Lost your report AND your keys?!

Stiff fingers reach into his breast pocket, retrieving a cellular phone. Flicking the receiver open with his quivering thumb, Kurama transfers his books into the carve of his other arm- struggling to dial at the same time without dropping any of the four. “Hello, Yusuke? Do you mind if you can give me a lift? It turns out there’s no work for me today… My car? It’s at an auto shop- the gears from the stick shift have been over-stressed. Yes, I’m fine- you know where to find me right? Thanks, I owe you- Hello? Hello? Yusuke?” Kurama brings the phone away from his face and stares at it in disbelief. “Great… out of batteries too.”

My friend shrugs, retiring the phone back into the pocket it came from. The pouring strengthens, raindrops hitting the pavement as hard as bullets. Sneezing a few times, Kurama presses himself as much as he can to the wall at his rear to avoid getting any more soused than he already was. The position he was in looked none-too comfortable. The bricks on the wall were dull at edge and uneven. Plus, his method wasn’t really working for him, as his complexion paled into white. You are going to get sick…

I glance around, and find an aged lever for an awning at the sidewall of this office. Running up to it, I try to crank the knob to open the shelter. Unfortunately, I understand that the awning would return to being folded if I secured it and left it standing. If I wanted it to stay, I would have to focus on the lever by holding it down until Yusuke arrives. Too bad for me I guess…

Rotating the lever, the components of the release and gears creaked and clicked unsteadily. The metal wire restraining the sunshade refused to let-go. Frowning, I open my palms and push forward with my weight until I thought my veins would pop. Gratifyingly, after much effort dealing with the disobedient pedal, the shielding slowly opens over Kurama’s head. The water that was captured inside the creases of cloth was freed, and flowed from the cloth in an enormous waterfall before him. Kurama blinks rapidly, gasped surprised. His head darts in all possible directions- looking for who did this for him, even to where I precisely stood. After a few minutes of bewilderment, he just smiles to himself, contented that this happened at all.

The raining un-ceased. In fact, it worsened. Every last drop came hammering down. My nerves tell me my cheeks are reddening- the sensation of numbness surges through my exposed skin. Harder and harder it pours, pelting down on me like blistering needles- burning from the ominous clouds. I sigh to myself as a means to relieve the tiring. The air exhausted from my mouth smokes, dissipating into endless mist and cold.

After the passing of several more minutes, my hands wriggle and tighten- feeling rather sore. It’s difficult to hold onto the wheel because of the resistance in the metal cord, and the handle to this mechanism itself is dripping wet and tarnished. Since the handle is pulling in the conflicting direction to which I am holding the awning in place, the handle is wearing on the flesh of my palm and joints- a distinct imprint of the handle marking itself on me. I notice my hands are turning into a feverish shade of pink, and my hair is matted down from the on-going shower. My clothing- like Kurama’s- absorbed much liquid and was quadrupled in heaviness. It’s alright… I’ll wait.