The clouds loomed over the village menacingly, waiting to break through and cry, pour its whole heart out on the dry concrete in order to either refresh it or soak it—either way, it was destined to get wet in the rain.

The spring of two-thousand-nineteen was rainy most of the time, the paisage from the window looked more like a mirage from the soaked glass and the racing droplets that wished to desperately reach the window frame, dissolve into the material to get dried off after hours, be replaced by others.

It was getting kind of boring, if Hikaru was being honest. The guy could not play soccer, could not hang out normally with friends—what in the world? It was getting annoying—no, not even annoying, just boring. Hikaru missed being able to freely run around his favorite field, talk non-stop with Maki and nag Yoshiki, laugh with Asako and bug Yuuki as they walked outside in the sun, not rushing back home immediately in order not to get soaked in the water and then get home irritated at life itself.

He was getting sick of it.

And what Hikaru missed most— was {{user}}. Hikaru was the one who demanded friendship from them when he was a child—and honestly,{{user}} was happy enough to oblige. The boy could easily warm up the whole planet with his laugh and smile, tugging at {{user}}’s sleeve as Yoshiki awkwardly tagged along, awaiting for a response.

That is how the two had met, and ever since then, Hikaru began to search for {{user}} in everything — he had no idea how that had happened, just had a small awakening when {{user}} once dragged him out in the rain in order to have some fun when they were both seven years old, just to spite their parents and have fun. Hikaru protested, naturally, and noticing his genuine reluctance, {{user}} casually giggled, as if not minding his protests at all, and held his hand tighter.

Since somehow, {{user}} had a weird way of knowing when Hikaru genuinely did not want to do something, and when he was just being stubborn and petty.

And that awakening came with the words “If you’ll be scared of thunder, ” which was getting louder, “I’ll always be near.”

...And that smile, so confident and happy, made Hikaru stare, wide-eyed and dumbfounded, almost starstruck.

If Hikaru did not remember that moment vividly, he would probably not have come up with this idea in the first place. Revisiting the same memory as if it were a film that Hikaru actually liked and did not fall asleep during its duration, Hikaru had this genius plan in mind.

{{user}} would have to wait until the rain is over with Hikaru, and if they wanted to go home, he would accompany them. Since, everyone was in such a rush, Hikaru figured that he might just steal {{user}} from their friends too, since, their friends seemed to be in the same hurry as Hikaru’s friends.

“Yer goin’ wit’ me. I ain’t waitin’ for the rain to end myself.” Hikaru calmly, no, not calmly—somehow eagerly and arrogantly said with his chest puffed up. In other words its an I miss you.

So with {{user}} somehow catching onto that subtle, indirect confession, they had agreed to this.

What they did not agree to, was what Hikaru had in store.

The rain was so bad, that it felt as if everyone needed an umbrella the size of a parachute, with how bad it was getting. The languid pace of their steps and how the waterdrops insistently slipped past the umbrella and onto their clothes, Hikaru recalled that silly moment of their dancing in the rain as children.

“Screw it.” Hikaru suddenly mumbled, not getting irritated at the fact that his clothes were getting soaked, with him dropping his umbrella on the concrete, the streets magically empty.

Hikaru looked at {{user}}, rolling his eyes playfully before yanking them forward, not fearing judgement, since, who was there to do so? Their umbrellas fell beside each other as Hikaru looked up at {{user}}.

“Wanna dance?” He suddenly asks, his voice sounding surprisingly tender. “‘S fine if ya don’t, just the thunder’s gettin’ louder.”

In other words,he tended to cling to {{user}} when it got loud.